POLICE BRUTALITY: Police beat up a mentally-ill homeless man to death

Police beat up

a mentally-ill

homeless man to death

 

WARNING: this video contains graphic images

Manuel Ramos, a police officer from Fullerton, California, has been charged with second degree murder for allegedly beating a mentally-ill homeless person to death last year. His co-worker, Officer Jay Cicinelli, faces charges of involuntary manslaughter and excessive use of force. This video from a surveillance camera shows Kelly Thomas, the victim, pleading for his life while the officers beat him on the street.

 

__________________________


 

Cops To Stand Trial

In Homeless Man's

Beating Death

 

by 

Fullerton police officer Manuel Ramos at the preliminary hearing in the death of Kelly Thomas, a mentally ill homeless man. Ramos and fellow officer Jay Cicinelli will stand trial for Thomas' death.

Getty Images

Fullerton police officer Manuel Ramos at the preliminary hearing in the death of Kelly Thomas, a mentally ill homeless man. Ramos and fellow officer Jay Cicinelli will stand trial for Thomas' death.

May 10, 2012

Two police officers in the Southern California town of Fullerton have been ordered to stand trial for the death of Kelly Thomas, a mentally ill homeless man.

Thomas died in July 2011 from injuries sustained during a violent arrest by six Fullerton officers.

The night of the arrest, Fullerton police officer Manual Ramos approached Thomas, then 37, while responding to a call that someone had been peering into cars at the town's bus depot.

The surveillance video at the depot was running during the incident, and officer Ramos was also recorded by a device he was wearing on his uniform. Synced together, the audio and video formed the key evidence shown in court this week during a preliminary hearing to decide whether to bring the officers to trial.

A Disturbing Video

Thomas, shirtless and sporting a full beard the night of the arrest, was a well-known fixture at the bus depot.

In the video, Ramos approaches Thomas and tells him repeatedly to extend his feet in front of him and to put his hands on his knees.

After several minutes, the recordings show a visibly annoyed Ramos slowly putting on latex gloves and, using expletives, threatening Thomas with his fists.

The confrontation escalates, and Thomas is seen trying to run from Ramos, who hits him with a baton. Soon after, another officer assists Ramos, as Thomas apologizes and insists that he can't breathe.

In all, six officers tried to subdue Thomas, who is heard in the recording crying for help and for his father.

Thomas died five days later after being taken off life support.

The judge reviewing the evidence this week halted proceedings as audience members gasped and cried out as the video was screened.

Outside the courtroom, Kelly's father, Ron Thomas, says the recording is too difficult to watch.

"To hear Kelly, in his screams for me to save him fade away ... that haunts me every day, it haunts me every night," Ron Thomas says.

Thomas says those haunting cries have pushed him to seek justice for his son.

For weeks last year, dozens of supporters rallied in front of Fullerton's police headquarters demanding that the officers be prosecuted. Under pressure, the chief of police took a medical leave of absence, then resigned, and three City Council members have been targeted for recall.

An Unprecedented Charge

Orange County District Attorney Tony Rackauckas personally presented much of the case in court this week and took the extraordinary step of charging Ramos with second degree murder.

Officer Jay Cicinelli faces lesser charges, including involuntary manslaughter.

Ramos' defense attorney John Barnett says his client did not use excessive force and, as a police officer, had every legal right to threaten a suspect who wouldn't follow orders.

"I just do not believe that a conditional threat to use force can support a murder conviction," Barnett says.

Barnett adds that in the video, Ramos is only seen holding down Thomas' legs.

Ramos is the first officer in Orange County to ever stand trial for murder committed while on duty. Legal experts say the prosecution will have a difficult time winning a murder conviction.

'A Wake-Up Call'

For their part, mental health advocates say this case — and most important, the video of the incident — has brought much needed attention to the mistreatment of the mentally ill.

"I think that this video will certainly be a wake-up call for law enforcement," says Rusty Selix, executive director of the Mental Health Association of California. He compares the case to the 1991 video taken of officers beating Rodney King.

"I think every law enforcement unit will want to think about, 'Gee, are we ready? Would we have responded the same way?' " Selix says.

Defense attorney Barnett says he'll appeal the decision to go to trial. He says he is confident his client will be acquitted.

Barnett defended one of the officers charged in the Rodney King beating. That officer was found not guilty.

 

>via: http://www.npr.org/2012/05/10/152433263/cops-to-stand-trial-in-homeless-mans-...

 

 

 

HISTORY: Jamal Joseph—From Panther to Professor

JAMAL JOSEPH:

From Panther to Professor

In the 1960s he exhorted students at Columbia University to burn their college to the ground. Today he's chair of their School of the Arts film division. Jamal Joseph's personal odyssey—from the streets of Harlem to Riker's Island and Leavenworth to the halls of Columbia—is as gripping as it is inspiring.Eddie Joseph was a high school honor student, slated to graduate early and begin college. But this was the late 1960s in Bronx's black ghetto, and fifteen-year-old Eddie was introduced to the tenets of the Black Panther Party, which was just gaining a national foothold. By sixteen, his devotion to the cause landed him in prison on the infamous Rikers Island—charged with conspiracy as one of the Panther 21 in one of the most emblematic criminal cases of the sixties. When exonerated, Eddie—now called Jamal—became the youngest spokesperson and leader of the Panthers' New York chapter.He joined the "revolutionary underground," later landing back in prison. Sentenced to more than twelve years in Leavenworth, he earned three degrees there and found a new calling. He is now chair of Columbia University's School of the Arts film division—the very school he exhorted students to burn down during one of his most famous speeches as a Panther.In raw, powerful prose, Jamal Joseph helps us understand what it meant to be a soldier inside the militant Black Panther movement. He recounts a harrowing, sometimes deadly imprisonment as he charts his path to manhood in a book filled with equal parts rage, despair, and hope.

VIDEO + AUDIO: Ibrahim Ferrer (Cuba)

IBRAHIM FERRER

Ibrahim Ferrer and a band featuring Orlando 'Cachaito' Lopez, Roberto Fonseca and Manuel Galban perform 'Perfidia' from his third and last album 'Mi Sueno'.

For more information go to
http://www.worldcircuit.co.uk/#Ibrahim_Ferrer
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Ibrahim-Ferrer/9419368255
Buy the music at amazon http://tinyurl.com/826c95q

 

Ibrahim Ferrer & Omara Portuondo perform 'Quizas' at Havana's EGREM studios, with Roberto Fonseca on piano.
The track is from Ibrahim's last album, 'Mi Sueno', a collection of boleros.

For more information go to
http://www.worldcircuit.co.uk/#Ibrahim_Ferrer
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Ibrahim-Ferrer/9419368255
Buy the music at amazon http://tinyurl.com/826c95q

 

 

AUDIO: Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong: Raising the Bar on Duets > The Revivalist

Ella Fitzgerald &

Louis Armstrong:

Raising the Bar on Duets

Louis Armstrong is often presented as the grinning grandfather figure of the old guard; Pops – someone for whom an acute virtuosity and profound individual contribution to the fabric of American music are often muddied if not altogether dismissed in favor of the cartoonish charm of an iconography wholly dependent upon a distinctive vocal and Cheshire smile.  But then “Tenderly” plays and the second Ella Fitzgerald’s voice slips in behind Armstrong’s opening trumpet solo, one begins to wonder how that could have occurred.  By the time Armstrong’s voice pops out from behind hers, it is clear that undervaluing either talent is a grave mistake.  From the 1956 Verve release, Ella and Louis, Armstrong’s performance is as exuberant and assertive as it is artfully restrained – almost as if he might be saving something for later.

Ella Fitzgerald’s girlish birdsong cuts the burnt sugar of Armstrong’s easy conversation like a shot of vinegar; the poise and exacting precision of her performance belie a lack of formal training.  Perfect pitch and a terrible habit of using her ear to bend a few syllables into taffy in a matter of several notes make the few limitations of her vocal difficult to pinpoint.  What is readily apparent about the pair is how close to perfection their combination truly is, precisely because of their differences.  In stark contrasts there exists a gray area in which things could go horribly wrong or terribly right.  In the case of Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong recording a debut album of duets that included eventual classics like “They Can’t Take That Away From Me,” “April In Paris,” “The Nearness of You,” and “Cheek to Cheek,” Norman Granz hit the ball out of the park on the first try.

 

 

Jazz impresario and founder of the Jazz at the Philharmonic concert series – an almost limitless fount of talent born from an ambitious gathering in Los Angeles in 1944, Norman Granz was the mastermind behind a number of unlikely combinations of musicians recording and collaborating across the genre as his events and ear rose to prominence.  A champion of equal pay for all artists and infamous for his refusal to play shows to segregated audiences, Granz became the intentional and very exacting shepherd of Fitzgerald’s career – demanding first that she take down the walls of her bebop box and take to the canon of American standards with reckless abandon.

Ella Fitzgerald was among the laundry list of talents performing at Granz’s shows on a regular basis.  Initially concerned with licensing and releasing recordings of his shows through other labels, by 1955 Granz had changed his mind.  Quite possibly on the heels of Fitzgerald’s departure from Decca Records shortly before, Granz – by then her manager – founded and built Verve Records around her voice.  The Cole Porter Songbook became the project that launched the label and simultaneously kept Fitzgerald’s career from staling into bop-heavy oblivion.  Having moved from orphan to doyenne of the swing bandstand very quickly, Fitzgerald had ridden the wave of that era well past its crest; it could be argued that that was all she knew and it could be also be as simple as that was what worked.  With the exploration of new and different compositions, it seems that Fitzgerald found her voice under the watchful eye of Granz.

Louis Armstrong had been performing and recording for fifteen years before Ella Fitzgerald emerged, and the influence of his work is as apparent in the horn player’s sensibility that characterizes her scatting as it is in her playful imitations of Armstrong’s unmistakable voice.  We find Fitzgerald lending her playfully endearing gravel-dipped scat to the end of “Tenderly;” a reverential tribute to an improvisational master whose characteristically throaty timbre and singing style parallel the bright saccharine punch and walking drawl of his trumpet solos.  In cahoots with Granz by the mid to late ’50s, Armstrong recorded three duet albums with Fitzgerald and two solo releases for Verve; those included an orchestral arrangement conducted by Russell Garcia and a collaboration with the Oscar Peterson Trio.  With two huge talents at his hip, Granz had the firepower to create a very dangerous combination and did so accordingly.  The recordings from Fitzgerald and Armstrong are presented as benign and classically romantic – the same oversimplification of tenderness found in dogs sharing an accidental kiss at the bottom of a plate of spaghetti.  While that sentiment may not be the worst thing to have attached to a body of music, as it increases the net their recordings cast, it also makes it easy to overlook the mastery of their performances when a recording is suggested as background music; the place where all great tunes go to die.

Ella and Louis and Ella and Louis Again, are both much lighter, finger-snapping fun than their third release, Porgy and Bess, which pulls from the Gershwin catalog to offer two giant talents a stab at the songs of an equally large Broadway production.  Already full of character, the compositions are given new life by Fitzgerald especially, who peeks in and out of an almost operatic vocal – playing with a lower register and daring the standard’s orchestral arrangement to meet her on a tiny bandstand in Harlem; to step outside of the box of traditionalism as she has stepped out of her own.  “My Man’s Gone Now” is one of the most emotionally charged performances you may find from Fitzgerald, whose career is more frequently typified by everything bubbly.  The song is punctuated by a brick wall of a crescendo that unravels into ribbons of airy runs.  Satchmo, on the other hand, seems to challenge the huge orchestral arrangement behind them to relax and have a little fun – something that absolutely happens on “There’s A Boat…” right before he wails himself down a dark canal in search of his woman on “Bess…” a song that even in a fit of sadness finds Armstrong sounding distinctively hopeful.

 

 
In a matter of three recordings, they may have done more groundbreaking work together than either had done without the other – this is especially likely for Fitzgerald whose career was floundering, despite her incomparable talent, prior to their collaboration.  Raising the bar for duets – a trend that has more recently become watered down by less talented or thoughtful combinations of artists – they were massive individual talents who combined to create platforms where each could shine alone and in tandem they would become a tour de force whose interpretation of standards is excellent in ways that discourage imitation.  Artists whose recordings will remain the kinds of classics that people – from those in the establishment to those in their homes after a hard day’s work, will continue to refer to with love and deference for the foreseeable future; “Morning time, and evening time, and summer time, and winter time.”

Words by Karas Lamb

 

PUB: Bassey Ikpi's Nigeria Trip and Poetry Contest (Nigeria/ Africa-wide) > Writers Afrika

Bassey Ikpi's Nigeria Trip

and Poetry Contest

(Nigeria/ Africa-wide)


Deadline: 27 May 2012

Here are the rules to the contest. Bassey Ikpi will keep you updated on the details via twitter and Facebook fan page.

Rules:

1. The theme of the contest is "home".

2. Submit an original poem that is at least half in English.

3. Video submissions should be no more than 2 minutes long.

4. You can enter the competition from anywhere in Africa but you will cover your costs should you be chosen. That means if you want to participate, you have to get to Lagos on your own.

5. The video must be recorded specifically for the competition. One camera; one poet. No live performance videos. No special effects.

6. Before you begin your video, state your name and where you're from. Please include that info as well as an email address in the information box of YOUR video.

7. Upload your video as a video response to THIS video. That means that if you don't have a Youtube channel or account, you need to get one. If you have a gmail account, then you have a Youtube account.

8. Share with your friends and get them to 'like' your video for a chance to be picked as the audience favourite.

9. Make sure you follow Bassey Ikpi on Twitter and like her Facebook fanpage for updates to the contest.

10. Contest ends at 11:59PM (EST, US) 27, May 2012. Any video received any time after the contest ends will not be considered for the contest.

Other details are discussed in this video.

CONTACT INFORMATION:

For inquiries: contact Bassey Ikpi via Twitter or Facebook

Website: http://basseyworld.wordpress.com/

 

 

PUB: Boulevard poetry contest

Poetry Contest for Emerging Poets

We are happy to announce that the winner of the 2011 Poetry Contest for Emerging Poets is Hallie Rundle. Her winning group of three poems appear in the spring 2012 issue.

$1,000 and publication in Boulevard awarded for the winning group of three poems by a poet who has not yet published a book of poetry with a nationally distributed press.

RULES
The poems may be a sequence or unrelated.  All entries must be postmarked by June 1, 2012.  Simultaneous submissions are allowed, but previously accepted or published work is ineligible.  Entries will be judged by the editors of Boulevard magazine.  No one editorially or financially affiliated with Boulevard can enter the contest.  Send typed manuscript(s) and SAS postcard for acknowledgment of receipt to:  Boulevard Emerging Poets Contest, PMB 325, 6614 Clayton Road, Richmond Heights, MO 63117.  No manuscripts will be returned.

Or, to submit electronically: 
http://boulevard.submishmash.com/submit

Entry fee is $15 per group of three poems, and $15 for each additional group of three poems.  Entry fee includes a one-year subscription to Boulevard (one per author).  Make check payable to Boulevard.

Author's name, address, and telephone number, in addition to the titles of the three poems, should appear on page one of your first poem.  

The winning poems will be published in the Fall 2012 or Spring 2013 issue of Boulevard.

All entries will be considered for publication and for payment at our regular rates.

These are the complete guidelines.

PUB: Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction > Philadelphia Stories

Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction

by Christine Weiser

Marguerite McGlinnMarguerite McGlinnThe Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction is an annual national short fiction contest. The prize includes a $2,000 cash award, and includes an invitation to an awards dinner in October. The winning story appears in the winter print and online issue of Philadelphia Stories. The Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction is made possible by the generous support of the McGlinn family.

Contest Submission Guidelines:

  • 2012 DEADLINE: Contest opens January 1 and runs through June 1. 
  • Previously unpublished works of fiction up to 8,000 words.
  • Multiple submissions will be accepted for the contest only. Simultaneous submissions are also accepted, however, we must be notified immediately if your work is accepted elsewhere.
  • Authors currently residing in or originally from the United States are eligible.
  • Submissions will only be accepted via the website.
  • There is a $10 reading fee for each story submitted.
  • All entrants will receive a complimentary one-year membership to Philadelphia Stories.

    CLICK HERE TO SUBMIT TO THE 2012 CONTEST

Kevin McIlvoyKevin McIlvoyAbout the 2012 Judge: Kevin McIlvoy has published four novels (A Waltz, The Fifth Station, Little Peg, Hyssop) and, most recently, a short story collection, The Complete History of New Mexico (Graywolf Press).  His short fiction has appeared in Harper’s, Southern Review, Ploughshares, Missouri Review, and many other literary magazines. He has received a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship in fiction.  For twenty-seven years he was fiction editor and editor in chief of the national literary magazine, Puerto del Sol.  He has taught in the Warren Wilson College MFA Program in Creative Writing since 1990 and taught as a Regents Professor of Creative Writing in the New Mexico State University MFA Program in Creative Writing from 1981 to 2008.  

Past Winners

BG FirminiBG Firmini2011 Winner of the Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction: B.G. Firmani. After board members narrowed down 300 story submissions to nine finalists, renowned author and 2011 judge Steve Almond chose New York City resident B.G. Firmani’s story, “To the Garden.” Read the full announcement of the 2011 winner HERE. Click HERE to see a slideshow of the awards ceremony held on the campus of Rosemont College. Click HERE to hear Ms. Firmani read from her winning story at the awards ceremony.

Allison AlsupAllison Alsup2010 Winner of the Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction: Allison Alsup received the $2000 prize for her story, “East of the Sierra”, which was chosen by contest judge Ru Freeman as the winner. The story was published in the Winter 2010/2011 issue of Philadelphia Stories. Click HERE to hear Ms. Alsup read from her winning story at the awards ceremony held on the campus of Rosemont College.

Katherine HillKatherine Hill2009 Winner of the Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction: Katherine Hill received the $1,000 prize for her story, The Work Boyfriend, which was chosen by contest judge Elise Juska as the winner. Her winning story was published in the winter 2009/2010 issue of Philadelphia Stories. Click HERE to hear Ms. Hill read at our 2010 Marguerite McGlinn National Prize awards celebration.

About Marguerite McGlinn
Marguerite McGlinn was the essay editor of Philadelphia Stories from 2004-2008. Her travel stories appeared in the New York Times, the Sun-Sentinel, the Philadelphia Inquirer and the Los Angeles Times. She edited The Trivium: The LiberalArts of Logic, Grammar and Rhetoric (Paul Dry Books, 2002). Three of her short stories won places in “Writing Aloud,” a program of dramatic readings that matches contemporary fiction with professional actors. She was an adjunct instructor at Saint Joseph University in Philadelphia, and her story “The Sphinx” appeared in the Fall 2007 issue of Philadelphia Stories and the second volume of the Best of Philadelphia Stories (2009).

 

INTERVIEW: Toni Morrison > Interview Magazine

TONI MORRISON

CHRISTOPHER BOLLEN
DAMON WINTER

 

 

We are unaccustomed to artistic or social revolutionaries receiving high honors during their lifetimes. Usually, America’s regard for its cultural innovators is, at best, a backward glance. Thus the legion of prizes that have been bestowed upon Toni Morrison might lead one to suspect that she chronicles the preferred version of American events rather than the darker, harder stories of who we are. Among the awards received by the 81-year-old writer from Lorain, Ohio, are the 1988 Pulitzer Prize, and, in 1993, she was the first black woman to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature. Moreover, the breathless veneration put forth by her fans—who include Barack Obama and Oprah Winfrey—might indicate that Morrison is too mired in the establishment for her novels to provoke or critique. All of these assumptions are dead wrong. The author’s journey through the literary landscape has always been one of defiance. Ever since her first novel, The Bluest Eye, was published in 1970, when the then 39-year-old Morrison was a single mother living in Queens raising two boys and working as a senior editor at Random House, her fiction has remained both unflinchingly visceral and almost biblical in proportion. Her language can be spare, but every color, description, and emotional or collective massacre has a haunting resonance.

It goes without saying that Morrison’s literature tackles the national themes of racism and sexism, but her work also resists many of the pervasive liberal dogmas of her time, particularly the black movement’s interest in only presenting positive portrayals of black characters and second-wave feminism’s tendency to diminish the significance of motherhood—that topic being a clear set piece of her 1987 masterwork Beloved.

It is one kind of bravery to refuse to write under the paradigm of the white-master narrative, but it is quite another kind of bravery to not defect to the most obvious and immediate rival.

In her latest novel, Home (Knopf), out this month, Morrison tells the story of a recently returned Korean War veteran named Frank Money, who journeys from a hospital in Seattle all the way to Georgia to save his younger sister Cee before she dies at the hands of a white doctor’s brutal medical experimentation. Along the way, Frank discovers a 1950s America that’s violent, deeply segregated, and occasionally capable of small measures of generosity, hope, and home.

On a warm spring morning in March, I drove to Morrison’s home two hours north of New York City. Her house sits on the banks of the Hudson River with a sweeping eastern view that includes a low gray cantilever bridge. Morrison left her teaching position at Princeton University in 2006 and moved out of New Jersey in 2011, and this riverfront house serves as her primary residence. The sunlit interior has a few of her well-known and not-so-known prizes on display—her Nobel diploma lies open on a table, while framed on a wall near the bathroom is a letter written by Antonia Fraser from her and her husband, Harold Pinter, congratulating Morrison on Beloved and mentioning that the novel’s sadness “ruined our weekend.”

Morrison wore a two-toned gray sweater, and a purple handkerchief was wrapped around her famous gray hair. She has the kind of striking bone structure of a face that they don’t often make anymore—strong and sharp and perfectly fitting for a future postage stamp. Her voice has such a potent timbre that she could have read me my rental car contract and it would have sounded momentous. But here’s the thing: What Morrison says is momentous. She has earned her reputation, the awards, and the mainstream podium. But the podium isn’t the message. It’s still the words that matter.

CHRISTOPHER BOLLEN: What bridge is that?

TONI MORRISON: The Tappan Zee. They keep threatening to tear it down and put up another one. You know, they wiped out half of Nyack to build that in the 1950s. They compromised the bridge and made it low, probably so it wouldn’t destroy the so-called view. The problem is when people commit suicide off that bridge—which they do a lot—they often don’t die, they just break their backs.

BOLLEN: Because it’s so low?

MORRISON: Because it’s so low. They’ve installed little phones there now, so if you see a car parked in the center with nobody in it . . .

BOLLEN: I read that at the Golden Gate Bridge, which is the bridge most frequented by jumpers, most suicides face the city and not the ocean when they die. Isn’t that strange? You’d think they’d face the open waters and not the crowded coast.

MORRISON: Goodness.

BOLLEN: You wrote your graduate school thesis on the theme of suicide in Virginia Woolf, didn’t you?

MORRISON: I wrote on Woolf and Faulkner. I read a lot of Faulkner then. You might not know this, but in the ’50s, American literature was new. It was renegade. English literature was English. So there were these avant-garde professors making American literature a big deal. That tickles me now.

BOLLEN: At that time did they teach any African-American writers?

MORRISON: They didn’t teach African-American writers even at African-American schools! I went to Howard University. I remember asking if I could write a paper on black people in Shakespeare. [laughs] The teacher was so annoyed! He said, “What?!” He thought it was a low-class subject. He said, “No, no, we’re not doing that. That’s too minor—it’s nothing.”

BOLLEN: You recently wrote a play based on the character of Desdemona from Othello, and you made a point that I had never considered before: Desdemona was raised by her nurse Barbary, so, in a sense, Desdemona does have a background of blackness even before she marries Othello. That changes the story of Othello quite a bit in terms of what Desdemona was thinking and how she came to understand her place—

MORRISON: And who she would not be alarmed by. I was at a dinner in Venice some years ago with the sponsors of the Biennale, and one guy said to me, “You know, we don’t have that race problem in Europe.” I think I might have been tired. I shouldn’t have done this, but I said, “No, you threw all of your trash over to us.” Peter Sellars [theater director] was sitting across from me and his eyes went big. At the dinner, they had these fabulous tapestries on the walls, and there was one with a big, black king-like figure. Back then, the problems were with class—a Moor could come to Venice and it wasn’t a problem. But I was starting to think about that play then. When Peter was at Princeton, he said he would never do Othello. He said it was too thin. And I said, “No, you’re talking about the performances, not the play. The play is really interesting.”

BOLLEN: How did you pick 1950s America as the setting for your new novel?

MORRISON: I was generally interested in taking the fluff and the veil and the flowers away from the ’50s. Was that what it was really like? I thought. I mean, that was my time. I’m 81. So that was when I was a young, aggressive girl. And it tends to be seen in this Doris Day or Mad Men–type of haze.

BOLLEN: A decade done by Douglas Sirk.

MORRISON: Exactly. And I thought, That’s not the case. Then I thought about what was really going on. What was really going on was the Korean War. It was called a “police action” then—never a war—even though 53,000 soldiers died. And the other thing going on in the ’50s was [Joseph] McCarthy. And they were killing black people right and left. In 1955, Emmett Till was killed, and later there was also a lot coming to the surface about medical experimentation. Now, we know about the LSD experiments on soldiers, but there was experimentation with syphilis that was going on with black men at Tuskegee who thought they were receiving health care.

BOLLEN: They were used as guinea pigs.

MORRISON: And that still goes on in Third-World countries. But it was those four events that seemed to me to be among the seeds that produced the ’60s and ’70s. I wanted to look at that, so I chose a man who had been in Korea who was suffering from shell shock. He goes on this journey—reluctantly. He didn’t want to go back to Georgia, where he was from. Georgia was like another battlefield for him.

BOLLEN: The book starts out in Seattle. To be honest, I guess I always think of segregation and race problems as a North-versus-South divide. I never really thought of the discrimination in the Pacific Northwest.

MORRISON: My editor questioned that, too. I did my research. Boeing owned all of that property that’s mentioned in the book. There were documents that said, “No Hebraic, Asiatic, Afric, whatever, can rent or buy. They can’t live here unless they work as domestics.” My editor said, “I didn’t know that. We Northerners think of that as always being in the South.” I said, “What do you mean, ‘We Northerners?’ I’m a Northerner.” He said, “Well, I guess I mean, ‘We white  Northerners.’ ”  Because there is    custom—not law, but custom. And then my editor said something about the main character being black, and I said, “How do you know he’s black?” He said, “I just know.” I said, “How? ’Cause I never said it. I never wrote it. I only describe what’s going on. You can’t go in this bathroom . . . ” Everything is viewed through a screen. The character just deals with the situation and takes it for granted. He’s not staging a march because he can’t go into a bathroom.

BOLLEN: We have a tendency to romanticize the stability of the ’50s in the same way that we romanticize the upheaval of the ’60s. You’ve spoken out about how a certain consumer-friendly, drug-induced version of the ’60s has obscured the real social changes that occurred during that decade. Was Home your attempt to rewrite the ’50s away from the favored version?

MORRISON: Somebody was hiding something—and by somebody, I mean the narrative of the country, which was so aggressively happy. Postwar, everybody was making money, and the comedies were wonderful . . . And I kept thinking, That kind of insistence, there’s something fake about it. So I began to think about what it was like for me, my perception at that time, and then I began to realize that I didn’t know as much as I thought. The more one looks, the more that is revealed that’s not so complimentary. I guess every nation does it, but there’s an effort to clean up everything. It’s like a human life— “I want to think well of myself!” But that’s only possible when you recognize failings and the injuries that you’ve either caused or that have been caused to you. Then you can think well of yourself because you survived them, confronted them, dealt with them, whatever. But you can’t just leap into self-esteem. Every nation teaches its children to love the nation. I understand that. But that doesn’t mean you can gloss over facts. I was an editor in the school department of [publisher] L.W. Singer Co. for a year before I came to Random House. I edited 10th- to 12th-grade literature books. For Texas books, we were forbidden to say “Civil War” in the text. We had to write “war between the States.” And of course we had to take out all sorts of words that Whitman wrote. There were caveats, constantly, when you sold text-books to Texas. And they’re still doing it, just with religion. I understand they’ve taken the word slavery out and replaced it with something to do with trade . . .

BOLLEN: Obviously, the interest is not to educate, it’s to reeducate.

MORRISON: Another reason for Home is that I got very interested in the idea of when a man’s relationship with a woman is pure—unsullied, not fraught. If it’s his relationship with his mother or his girlfriend or his wife or his daughter, there’s always another layer there. The only relationship I thought that would be minus that would be a brother and a sister. It could be masculine and protective without the baggage of sexuality. So the sort of Hansel and Gretel aspect really fascinated me. And his traveling back to save her would be transportation with violence all around him.

BOLLEN: Did you name it Home because of that journey back? At the start of the novel, there is a whole section about how the Money family originally lives in a small Texas town and is given 24 hours to pick up and leave their land or else they will be killed. What does home mean after that kind of exile?

MORRISON: It was a regular thing. I have an interesting book that looked at the counties that were “cleansed.” A lot were in Texas. It was like the Palestinians. They’d just say, “Go,” and if you didn’t, you’d get killed. There was a migration—a forced migration. But the naming of the book, well, I’m really awful with titles.

BOLLEN: Hold on. Your titles are great. They have a very pure, singular, uncongested sensibility. Although it’s a lot to promise when naming a novel Home.

MORRISON: When I was working on the book, I called it Frank Money. It was my editor who suggested the change. When I wrote Song of Solomon, I called it something else. John Gardner [novelist] made me take that title. Somebody said “Song of Solomon,” and I said, “That’s terrible!” I was up in Knopf’s offices. John Gardner was up there, and he said, “Song of Solomon, that’s a lovely title! Keep it!” I said, “You sure?” He said, “Yes!” And I said, “Okay.” Then he left, and I thought, “Why am I paying attention to him? He wrote a book called The Sunlight Dialogues. He hasn’t had a good title since the beginning of time!” [laughs] But by then, it was too late.

BOLLEN: In a reprint of Sula, you wrote a forward where you describe writing that book under the added pressure of raising two children and also having a full-time job at Random House. You were living in Queens. I feel like today we always glorify the young, just-plucked-from-college writer. But it’s much harder to start writing later, in middle age, struggling on a book around a full-time job and family.

MORRISON: I started at 39.

BOLLEN: Do you remember writing in those tougher circumstances as a desperate time or a liberating one in terms of waking every morning to face the blank page?

MORRISON: That was a liberation. There were two areas of total freedom for me. One has to do with my children, because they were the only ones who I knew who were not making insane demands on me. They made certain demands, but they didn’t care if I was sexy or hip, or any of those things that seem to factor in how we are judged—or at least how I was judged, as a woman in the publishing industry, by a certain kind of ambition. Other than taking rudimentary care of them, they just wanted me to be honest, and have a sense of humor, and be competent. That was simpler for me. Outside was complicated. But the writing was the real freedom, because nobody told me what to do there. That was my world and my imagination. And all my life it’s been that way, even now. I sometimes get stuck—my son died two years ago. I stopped writing until I began to think, He would be really put out if he thought that he had caused me to stop. “Please, Mom, I’m dead, could you keep going . . . ?” So when I got to that point, I could finish Home. But it’s not just liberating. It’s an education for me. In Home, I wrote from a man’s point of view. I had never really done that seriously until Song of Solomon. I thought, “What are they really like? What do they really think?” My father had died shortly before, and I remember saying, “I wonder what he knew.” And then I just felt relief, that, at some point, I would know, because I’d asked the right questions of him, and that it would come. And in fact it did. I’ll tell you what helped: black male writers write about what’s important to them or their lives, and what is important to them is the oppressor, the white man, because he’s the one making life complicated. Then I noticed that black women never do that. In the ’20s, they did, but I mean contemporary—and I wasn’t interested in it. Suddenly if you took the gaze of the white male—or even the white female, but certainly the male—out of the world, it was freedom! You could think anything, go anywhere, imagine anything . . . There was no longer the problem of looking through the master’s gaze. With that gaze, you’re always reacting, proving something. So not having to do that . . . I think one of the reasons I’m so thrilled with writing is because it is an act of reading for me at the same time, which is why my revisions are so sustained. Because I’m reading it. I’m there. Intimacy is extremely important to me and I want it to be extremely important to the readers, too.

BOLLEN: You’ve described your refusal to write a book that comfortably lets in the white male reader as not providing a “lobby” to your books. What freedom not to be writing and measuring what you write as worthy or marketable or entertaining for a mainstream white audience. It must have been doubly bold because you risked not being published.

MORRISON: Publishing was not on my mind. Long before I was living in Queens, I was teaching down in Washington and was surrounded by some serious writers and poets. They had a little group, and we met once a month and read our stuff. I brought old things I’d written and they would comment. But they wouldn’t let you come if you didn’t have something to read. I didn’t have anything else, so I wrote this little story about a black girl who wanted blue eyes, which is based on an incident that I had witnessed as a kid. And they talked about it, and I liked writing it, and they had such good food at these little meetings! But then I put it aside. Then I came to Syracuse. My younger son was just six months old, and I began to write and add to that story before they got up and after they went to bed just as something to do.

BOLLEN: You famously wake up before dawn to write.

MORRISON: I’m very smart in the morning. And also, those are sort of farmer’s hours. I like to be up just before the sun. Anyway, after I finished The Bluest Eye, I had sent it out to a number of people, and I got mostly postcards saying, “We pass.” But I got one letter—somebody took it seriously and wrote a rejection letter. The editor was a woman. She said something nice about the language. And then she said, “But it has no beginning, it has no middle, and it has no end.” And I just thought, She’s wrong. But the thrill was having done it. And then [writer] Claude Brown recommended somebody to me at Holt, Rinehart, and Winston. But this was back in the day of the “screw whitey” books. One of the aggressive themes of the “screw whitey” movement was “black is beautiful.” I just thought, “What is that about? Who are they talking to? Me? You’re going to tell me I’m beautiful?” And I thought, “Wait a minute. Before the guys get on the my-beautiful-black-queen wagon, let me tell you what it used to be like before you started that!” [laughs] You know, what racism does is create self-loathing, and it hurts. It can ruin you.

BOLLEN: So by telling the story of a girl who wants blue eyes and thinks she’s ugly, your first novel was really out of step with the whole “black is beautiful” program. Does that mean some of your earliest critics were from the black community?

MORRISON: Yeah, they hated it. The nicest thing I ever heard wasn’t from a critic, it was from a student who said, “I liked The Bluest Eye, but I was really mad at you for writing it.” And I said, “Why?” And she said, “Because now they will know.” But most of them were dismissive. I thought that in that milieu, nobody was going to read this. Twelve-hundred copies they printed, 1,500. I thought it would be 400. Bantam bought the paperback. It was a throw-away book. And then something extraordinary happened. I think it was City College. The book was published in ’70, and City College decided that the curriculum for every entering freshman would have to include books by women and books by African Americans, and I was on that list. That meant not just for that class, but many classes thereafter!

BOLLEN: You’ve been called “the national novelist.” You’ve also been called “the conscience of America.” In fact, it’s hard to think of another writer, except for Walt Whitman, who has been asked to stand for so much of the national voice. Do you ever feel that distracts you from your own writing? That such extreme success is, in a way, a pigeonhole?

MORRISON: I had a little moment of difficulty after I won the Nobel Prize, but I was already writing Paradise [1997], thank god. I didn’t have to invent something worthy of the prize. Now I just take the good stuff. I remember a grudge, but I take the good stuff. [laughs]

BOLLEN: There’s the romantic vision of the Nobel committee waking American recipients from their early morning sleep with a phone call. Did that happen to you?

MORRISON: No, they changed it. They’re much more civilized about it. They announce it when they have figured it out, which is in the middle of the night. So it gets out. But they have decided not to make people crazy and call them up at night, and just do it at a normal time for whatever country they’re in. What happened was a friend of mine, Ruth Simmons, who is now president of Brown, she was still at Princeton then, called me up at about seven o’clock in the morning and said, “You won the Nobel Prize.” And I thought, What? I thought she was seeing things.

BOLLEN: Did you even know you were in the running?

MORRISON: I really never thought about it. So I hung up on her! I said, “What is she talking about?” Because I thought, How would she know something that I wouldn’t know? She called me right back and said, “What’s the matter with you?” I said, “Where’d you hear that?” And she said, “I heard it from Bryant Gumbel on the Today show.” So then I had to think, Well . . . Maybe? But there had been so many moments—as I later learned, more than I thought—when people believed they were going to get it, and journalists were beginning to circle, and they didn’t get it.

BOLLEN: I think that happened to poor Norman Mailer. Friends even told him that he got it and he might have given an interview. But he never received it.

MORRISON: I know. It happened to Joyce Carol Oates once! The journalists were out waiting for her. But I didn’t know what to do! I just went to class, right? And then that afternoon, around 12:30, I got a telephone call from the Swedish Academy saying that I had won—at a reasonable time of day. I still wasn’t quite certain. I said, “Would you fax that?”

BOLLEN: You wanted it in writing! [laughs]

MORRISON: That’s right! But the event itself was just heaven. It’s the best party.

BOLLEN: I saw the recent Fran Lebowitz documentary, Public Speaking, by Martin Scorsese, where she talks about going with you and being forced to sit at the kids table.

MORRISON: [laughs] I know! She was serious. But it was really lovely. It was palatial and grand . . . And a little inconvenient.

BOLLEN: Is it?

MORRISON: I mean, the risers on the stairs—they were so short—I could barely walk down them. But anyway, I thought it was the best time. It was so much fun. Fran said the right thing to me, she said, “This is the first time I’ve seen pomp with circumstance.”

BOLLEN: When you finally quit your editing job to concentrate on writing in 1983, was that a moment where you thought, Okay, no going back?

MORRISON: That was different, because I sat out there on that porch when I quit [Morrison points out the window to her porch over the Hudson River]. It wasn’t as lovely as it is now because the storm knocked it down and I had to have it redone. But I was sitting out there, and I felt afraid, or something jittery. I didn’t have a job. Still with kids. It was a strange sort of feeling. And then I thought, No, what I’m feeling is not anxiety—this is happiness!

BOLLEN: Relief.

MORRISON: More than relief. I was really happy. Which is to say I guess I hadn’t been. I hadn’t felt that—it must have been a combination of happiness and something else. And it was then that I wrote Beloved. It was all like a flood when I wrote that book.

BOLLEN: How did you find that article about Margaret Garner [the escaped slave who killed her daughter in Cincinnati to avoid her daughter’s reenslavement upon capture], which became the basis for the story of Beloved?

MORRISON: I was doing The Black Book [1974 nonfiction book by Middleton A. Harris and Morrison], and these guys were bringing me all this stuff because I was going to make a whole-earth catalog about black history—the good and the bad. I got old newspapers from a guy who collected them, and I found an article about Margaret Garner. What was interesting to me was that the reporter was really quite shocked that Margaret Garner was not crazy. He kept saying, “She’s so calm . . . and she says she’d do it again.” So I decided to look into this. It was not uncommon for slave women to do that, but I thought, Suppose she was rational and there was a reason. This was also at a time when feminists were very serious and aggressive about not being told that they had to have children. Part of liberation was not being forced into motherhood. Freedom was not having children, and I thought that, for this woman, it was just the opposite. Freedom for her was having children and being able to control them in some way—that they weren’t cubs that somebody could just buy. So, again, it was just the opposite of what was the contemporary theme at the moment. Those differences were not just about slavery or black and white—although there was some of that—but in the early days, I used to complain bitterly because white feminists were always having very important meetings, but they were leaving their maids behind! [laughs]

BOLLEN: Did you feel a real split between white and black feminists?

MORRISON: Womanists is what black feminists used to call themselves. Very much so. They were not the same thing. And also the relationship with men. Historically, black women have always sheltered their men because they were out there, and they were the ones that were most likely to be killed. As a matter of fact, this was an interesting thing for me. When I went into the publishing industry, many women talked about the difficulty they had in persuading their families to let them go to college. They educated the boys, and the girls had to struggle. It was just the opposite in the African-American communities, where you educated the girls and not the boys, because the girls could always go into nurturing professions—teachers, nurses . . . But if you educated your men, they would go into jobs where they would have to be confronted or held down. They could never flourish so easily. Now that has changed in any number of ways, but it was like an organism protecting itself.

BOLLEN: In Home, there’s the zoot-suited man that haunts the narrative and appears before the main character a few times. How did he enter the novel?

MORRISON: Well, a lot of the book confronts the question of how to be a man, which is really how to be a human, but let’s say “man.” And he’s struggling with that, and there’s certain pro forma ways in which you can prove you’re a man. War is one. But the zoot-suit guys, postwar, in the late ’40s, early ’50s, they were outrageous—they were asserting a kind of maleness, and it agitated people. The police used to shoot them. You talk about dress, not to speak of hoodies—they were always arresting those guys. I wanted this figure of a fashion-statement male to just hover there.

BOLLEN: You bring up hoodies. Is there a link between what happened then to what is happening today with the Trayvon Martin case? There was the Million Hoodie March. Do you think situations like Trayvon Martin’s shooting still happen all of the time and they just aren’t reported? Or have we curtailed the systematic murder of black men in America?

MORRISON: The hoodie is just a distraction. I thought they should have had a Million Doctors March or something like that! For me, it’s highly theatricalized now, very theatricalized in the media. The killing of young black men has never changed all that much, with or without hoodies. I don’t know of any young black men who haven’t been stopped by cops. Ever. My sons . . . I was listening to Jesse Jackson talk about his sons—one was in law school and one was in business school. But they were all stopped. I remember Cornel West telling me he was teaching somewhere and he had to commute. He was stopped every time. It doesn’t matter if the car is new or beat up—Cornel’s was beat up, they still stopped him. [laughs] So the pervasive notion of black men as “up to no good” may be spoken about more right now in the media, but it’s no less pervasive than it’s always been. It’s like my character Frank Money in Home. I just took it for granted that the police would search him on the street. But I’m interested in what the consequences of this situation will be for any number of reasons. There are two things I want to know, and I may spend some time doing research. One is, has any white man in the history of the world ever been convicted of raping a black woman? Ever?

BOLLEN: I can’t think of one offhand.

MORRISON: I just want one. The other thing is, has any cop shot a white kid in the back? Ever? I don’t know of any. Those are two things I’m looking for. And then I will believe all this stuff. Once I find a cop who shoots a young white kid for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

BOLLEN: That never seems to happen, does it? Back in 2008, when Barack Obama was running for office, he asked you for an endorsement, which you eventually gave. You said having him in the office would be a restitution. You called it a necessary evolution and not a revolution.

MORRISON: Did I say that? It sounds good! [laughs]

BOLLEN: You did. Now, on the eve of his reelection, do you think Obama fulfilled those expectations?

MORRISON: More. More. He’s better than I thought he would be.

BOLLEN: I feel that way overall. There are moments where I’ve had some doubts, but it’s natural to lose confidence with a president at certain points in a presidency.

MORRISON: Of course, but what I didn’t expect was the amount of hostility. I knew there would be some—maybe even lots—but this is really deranged. For the people who hate Obama, it doesn’t matter what he does. Nothing matters. And the things they say are so retro. I decided that once they have something called the n-word that no one can say, it did the opposite of the word like. Taking the n-word—N-I-G-G-E-R—out of language left a hole. So now there is this flood of other words—Kenyan and no-births—that they have produced in order to fill that hole. The n-word used to say it all. Now there’s this other loaded vocabulary that’s become totally insane. It’s the opposite of like. As in, “I’m, like, ‘Wow . . . ’” Or, “It was, like . . . ” Or, “I’m thinking, like . . . ” Like has taken 90 words out of the vocabulary. They don’t say felt any more. And I get really upset about that. So there’s a word that erases language, and then there’s the erasure of a word that produces a deranged kind of language. That’s startling to me. And the response from the people who dislike Obama is a really visceral dislike. I read a sentence in a newspaper article that said, “The real problem is that here’s a black man in charge of the world.” It’s not a judge or a doctor or the head of a neighborhood—it’s the world. Some people aren’t able to deal with that. 


CHRISTOPHER BOLLEN IS INTERVIEW’S EDITOR AT LARGE.

 

 

VIDEO + AUDIO: Kenyan Singer Nina Ogot Inspired by Nairobi Youth > PRI's The World

Video:

Kenyan Singer

Nina Ogot

Inspired by Nairobi Youth

Nina Ogot is now drawing inspiration from the youngsters in Nairobi.(Photo: Mary Stucky)

Nina Ogot is now drawing inspiration from the youngsters in Nairobi.(Photo: Mary Stucky)

Kenyan singer Nina Ogot tells reporter Mary Stucky about her new musical inspiration: working with young people who live on the streets of Nairobi.


Sarah Ooko contributed to the reporting of this story.

 

INTERVIEW + VIDEO: Michelle Alexander’s New Jim Crow

Cut Black Men

Some Slack, Jack:

Michelle Alexander’s

New Jim Crow

May Give New Hope


Tuesday May 8, 2012 – by

Do you ever wonder if many of us have been brainwashed into believing that impoverished Blacks, men in particular, are solely to blame for much of the problems we face as a community? Civil rights lawyer and scholar Michelle Alexander’s tireless research indicated just that, as well as a heartbreaking ton of additional facts that are outlined in her latest book, The New Jim Crow, Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness.

In the midst of a thriving law career, Ms. Alexander described an awakening of sorts. Rather than remaining an agent of ‘the game,’ she followed her instinct which led her to detect a larger, more sinister modus operandi of the criminal justice system that looked a lot like Jim Crow for the new millennium. According to Alexander’s findings, many of the tenets of the Jim Crow regime of the not-so-distant past are now accepted as fully legal  - “felon disenfranchisement laws” as she coins it.

Last year we looked at the staggering statistic revealing that more African American adults are under correctional control (in prison, jail, probation or parole) today  than were enslaved in the 1850 – a decade before the Civil War began. Additionally, in 2004 more black men were disenfranchised than in the year 1870. Alexander explains with sobering clarity, that when it comes to the war on drugs & the mass incarceration of black men, the criminal “justice” system is creating an under caste – not to be mistaken with under class. A caste, as she illustrates, is defined as a group of people defined largely by race that are relegated to permanent second class status by law.

During a speech at Riverside Church in New York City, the civil rights activist exposed what she called the biggest myth about mass incarceration: It is not driven by crime rates. In her words, Our prison population quintupled in 30 yrs, from 350,000 to well over 2 mil for reasons that have little to do with crime or crime rates. Crime rates have fluctuated over the years while the prison population (especially African American) continues to soar… Crime and prison population rates move independently of each other.”

As a matter of fact, Alexander claimed emphatically that there are more people in prison today, just for drug convictions, than were incarcerated for all reasons in 1980. Drug convictions have increased by more than 1000% since the war on drugs began. Incidentally, this battle has been disproportionately fought in poor communities of color – although it’s a proven fact that black and brown folks are no more likely to use or sell drugs than any other group.

Apparently there are many benefits arresting youth of color. For one, as Alexander explained, “federal funds flow to those state & local law enforcement agencies that boost dramatically the sheer number of people swept into the system.” The emphasis is does not lie with bringing to justice king pins or violent offenders (quantity not quality). The ‘war on drugs’ won public support in large part due to a massive propaganda effort kicked off by the Regan Administration which developed a ‘task force’ to publicize/demonize early victims of the crack era such as “inner city” crack babies, crack dealers, crack whores & crack related violence “in the hopes of making crack a media sensation.” This act, Ms. Alexander said, provided the rationale for these agencies to receive millions of taxpayer funds to carry out the fight.

As her findings indicate a collage of misery, an interesting fact is uncovered that paints black men of this caste in a positive light:

Although a black child born today is less likely to be raised by both parents than a black child born during slavery she cited a study studies that have found that black fathers that have lived outside of the home (including formerly incarcerated dads), are more likely to be a part of their children’s lives more than any other group.

It’s not a new revelation. In fact, her claim (& that of Michael Eric Dyson) that contradicts the enduring stereotype of the absentee black father was published in the HuffPo 2 years ago – and expanded on in more than one of her enlightening lectures.

Bearing witness to endless debates on who’s to blame for the deterioration of the community, doesn’t it always seem to come down to black men (despite a national law enforcement presence which demonstrates a low regard for folks of color)? Can the work of scholars like Michelle Alexander have a positive effect how we perceive the most troubled in our community, or can we expect more of the same?

Dig Ms. Alexander at Harlem’s Riverside Church…

And on Democracy Now

 

 

__________________________

 

The mass incarceration

of the Black community:

an interview with

Michelle Alexander,

author of ‘The New Jim Crow’

 

April 4, 2012

by Minister of Information JR Valrey

Michelle Alexander speaks to the prisoners at Washington State Reformatory’s University Beyond Bars.
Professor Michelle Alexander’s new book “The New Jim Crow” is a monumental, well researched piece of work that presents documented facts in down to earth English about the mass incarceration of Black people within the United States’ national concentration camp system. At one point in “The New Jim Crow,” Professor Alexander presents evidence that more Black people are enslaved behind bars today than were enslaved on the plantations in 1850, before the Emancipation Proclamation was signed. This book is a must-read for anyone trying to come to grips with the war that the U.S. government is waging on Black people in this country.

“The New Jim Crow” has just been released in paperback in a new, expanded edition. Buy one for yourself and one for a prisoner.

M.O.I. JR: Let’s kick it off first with the name of the book. Why did you name your new book “The New Jim Crow”?

Professor Michelle: I named the book “The New Jim Crow” because this system of mass incarceration functions more like a caste system than a system of crime prevention or control. In this era of so-called color blindness, we have been led to believe that the days of caste are long behind us, but in fact a new system of racial and social control has been born – one that functions in ways that are strikingly similar to the old Jim Crow.

Millions of people, primarily poor people of color, have been swept into the criminal justice system – often for the very crimes that occur roughly with equal frequency in middle class white communities and on college campuses, but go largely ignored – swept in, branded criminals and felons, then are relegated to a permanent second class status, for life, where they are stripped of the right to vote, automatically excluded from juries, and legally discriminated against in employment, housing, access to education and public benefits.

So many of the old forms of discrimination that we had supposedly left behind in the Jim Crow era are suddenly legal again, once you’ve been branded a felon. That’s why I say that we haven’t ended racial caste in America; we just redesigned it.

M.O.I. JR: What is the difference between class and caste?

Professor Michelle: For many, many years scholars in particular have had these debates about the underclass, the poor folks of color, who seemed trapped at the bottom. And academics and scholars can come up with all of these explanations for why so many people seem not to have access to the ladder of opportunity, to the American dream, and most of those theories focus on cultural explanations: broken families and homes, the attitudes of the poor, or poverty and bad schooling. There’s been an idea that there is something about their culture and the severe poverty of poor folks of color that keeps them trapped at the bottom.

Well, I use the language of caste in the book, because I think it is important for people to recognize that there is a system of rules, laws, policies and practices that operate to trap people in a permanent second class status. It’s not just about culture, and it is not just about bad schools or broken homes. There is a system of laws in place that trap people in a permanent second class status.

“The War on Drugs” and “The Get Tough Movement” have unleashed legislation and policies that serve to sweep people into the system through “Stop and Frisk” tactics, sweep them into the system for primarily non-violent, often drug related offenses. And get every study that has been done over the last few decades and it has shown that people of color are no more likely to use or sell illegal drugs than whites, but they are targeted and arrested at grossly disproportionate rates.

Once they’re swept in and they’re branded criminals and felons, often at young ages, sometimes before they are even old enough to vote, they are trapped by law in a permanent second class status. This is not just a function of bad schools and poverty; this is about a system of laws that have been put into place as a result of a political system that has found it convenient to scapegoat and demonize poor folks of color for the political gain of a few.

M.O.I. JR: Well, I have your book open right now, and there is a section called “The Birth of Mass Incarceration.” I just wanted to read this section and have you comment on it.

Martin Luther King, who himself was constantly being thrown in jail, is jailed in Birmingham in this iconic photo.
“For more than a decade, from the 1950s until the late 1960s, conservatives systematically and strategically linked opposition to civil rights legislation to calls for law and order, arguing that Martin Luther King Jr.’s philosophy of civil disobedience was a leading cause of crime. Civil rights protests were frequently depicted as criminal rather than political in nature, and federal courts were accused of being excessively lenient toward lawlessness, thereby contributing to the spread of crime. In the words of then Vice-President Richard Nixon, the increasing crime rate ‘can be traced to the spread of the corrosive doctrine that every citizen possesses an inherent right to decide for himself which laws to obey and when to obey them.’”

Can you expand on the birth of mass incarceration? When was this enacted? A few paragraphs down you talk about Barry Goldwater, but why is it that you talk about Nixon and Barry Goldwater when you talk about the birth of mass incarceration?

Professor Michelle: Well, you know that many people imagine that the explosion in our nation’s prison population is due to crime or crime rates. It’s just not true. Nothing can be further from the truth. In the past few decades, our nation’s prison population quintupled. Not doubled or tripled, quintupled. We’ve gone from a prison population of 300,000 to well over 2 million. And this has not been due to crime rates. Crime rates have fluctuated over the past few decades, gone up, gone down. Today, crime rates are actually at historic lows, but incarceration rates, especially Black incarceration rates and increasingly Latino incarceration rates, have soared.

So what explains this phenomenon of skyrocketing incarceration rates that are moving completely independently of crime and crime rates? Well it’s “The War on Drugs” and “The Get Tough Movement” – the wave of punitiveness that washed over the United States. And this wave of punitiveness was driven by a political strategy known as the Southern Strategy, a grand Republican Party strategy of using racially coded get-tough appeals to appeal to poor and working class whites, particularly in the South, who were anxious and resentful about the gains of African-Americans in the Civil Rights Movement. “The War on Drugs” and “The Get Tough Movement” was part of the backlash against the Civil Rights Movement.

You know, to be fair, we have to acknowledge that poor and working class whites really had their world rocked by the Civil Rights Movement. Wealthy whites could send their kids to private schools and give their kids all of the advantages wealth had to offer, but poor and working class whites were faced with a social demotion. It was their kids who might be bussed across town to go to a school that they believed was inferior. It was their kids and themselves who were suddenly forced to compete on equal terms for scarce jobs with a whole new group of people that they have been taught their whole lives were inferior to them.

And affirmative action programs gave many poor and working class whites, who themselves were struggling for survival the feeling that Black folks were now leap-frogging over them on their way to Harvard or Yale, into fancy jobs in corporate America. And this circumstance created an enormous amount of anxiety, fear and resentment among poor and working class whites, but it also created an enormous political opportunity.

Numerous historians and political scientists have now documented that media strategists and media consultants found that by using this “get tough” appeal, promising to crack down on a group not so subtly defined by race, could be enormously successful in persuading poor and working class whites to defect from the Democratic New Deal coalition and join the Republican Party in droves.

In the words of H.R. Haldeman, President Richard Nixon’s former chief of staff, he described his strategy: “The whole problem is really the Blacks. The key is to devise a system that recognizes this without appearing to.” Well, they did. “The War on Drugs” and “The Get Tough Movement,” this wave of punitiveness, has managed to birth a system of mass incarceration unprecedented in world history – one that has not been driven by crime rates but instead a form of political and racial opportunism that has benefitted a few. And many African-Americans have defended aspects of this system on the grounds that we do need to get tough on those violent offenders and poor communities of color.

But this drug war has never been focused on rooting out violent offenders or drug kingpins. Federal funding has flowed to state and local law enforcement agencies that boost the sheer numbers of folks into this system. It’s been a numbers game, and the result is today there are more African-Americans under correctional control – in prison or jail, on probation or parole – than were enslaved in 1850, a decade before the Civil War began.

M.O.I. JR: Wow. Can you say that one more time?

Professor Michelle: Yes. There are more African-American adults under correctional control today – in prison or jail, on probation or parole – than were enslaved in 1850, a decade before the Civil War began. In fact, in many urban areas today, the majority of working age African-American men have criminal records and are thus subject to legalized discrimination for the rest of their lives – forced to check that box on applications asking the dreaded question, have you ever been convicted of a felony.

The denial of jobs and survival assistance like food stamps and public housing is compounded by the denial of voting rights to many returning prisoners. Elder Freeman of All of Us or None, an organization of former prisoners, hands out voting rights brochures to visitors at the county jail in Oakland.
People convicted of felonies can be barred from public housing, denied even food stamps to survive if they have been convicted of drug felonies. We have created a system in which it is difficult for people even to survive once they have been branded a felon.

M.O.I. JR: Let’s talk a little bit about Reagan. In your book – I’m quoting from page 48 – it says “Reagan portrayed the criminal as ‘a staring face, a face that belongs to a frightening reality of our time, the face of the human predator.’ Reagan’s racially coded rhetoric and his strategy proved extraordinarily effective, as 22 percent of all Democrats defected from the party to vote for Reagan. The defection rate shot up to 34 percent among those Democrats who believed civil rights leaders were pushing too fast.”

Can you speak to Ronald Reagan and the birth of “The War on Drugs”? Where did it come from? And as we listen to you talk, we see that this was an expansion on the policies of Nixon and Goldwater, but can you speak to Reagan and the part he played?

Professor Michelle: Yes. Well, Ronald Reagan officially declared the current drug war in 1982, at a time when drug crime was actually on the decline and not on the rise. Most people assume that “The War on Drugs” was declared in response to the emergence of crack cocaine and the media frenzy that followed, but that’s not true. At the time when President Ronald Reagan declared his drug war, drug crime was actually on the decline and not on the rise. It was before, not after, crack really began to ravage inner-city communities and become a media sensation.

President Richard Nixon, I should point out, was the first to coin the term, a war on drugs, but it was President Ronald Reagan who turned that rhetorical war into a literal one. And the reason he declared the drug war had little to do with overwhelming concern about drug abuse or drug addiction; instead, it was part of his effort to make good on campaign promises, to get tough in accordance with the Southern Strategy, get tough with a group of people defined not so subtly along racial lines. But I think it is important also to empathize that this is not just a fault of the Republican Party.

You know President Bill Clinton escalated the drug war far beyond what his Republican predecessors even dreamed possible. President Bill Clinton presided over the largest increase in Black imprisonment in United States history. And it was the Clinton administration that championed laws banning drug offenders, under federal laws, from food stamps for the rest of their lives, making it difficult for them to even get housing and public housing.

It was the Clinton administration that championed laws barring drug offenders from even federal financial aid for schooling. And to a large extent, it was the Clinton administration, desperate to win back those white swing voters, the folks that defected from the Democratic Party and the Civil Rights Movement, that is responsible for the basic architecture of this new caste system.

I spend a fair amount of time in the first chapter in my book showing how efforts to pit poor people of color against poor whites have triggered the rise of these caste-like systems over and over and over again. And even slavery, the all-Black system of slavery, can be traced to an attempt to divide white indentured servants from Black servants and slaves. Throughout our history, the same games have been played with great success of pitting poor whites against poor people of color, resulting in these vast new systems of racial and social control. So when building a movement to end mass incarceration, we have got to insure that we develop cross-racial, inter-racial unity among poor folks of all colors, because it has been these divide and conquer tactics that have worked so well in the past to birth new caste-like systems over and over again.

M.O.I. JR: Reading again from your book, on page 81, it says, “Harsh sentences encourage people to snitch. The number of snitches in drug cases has soared in recent years, partly because the government has tempted people to ‘cooperate’ with law enforcement by offering cash, putting them on payroll, and promising cuts of seized drug assets, but also because ratting out codefendants, friends, family, or acquaintances is often the only way to avoid a lengthy mandatory minimum sentence. In fact, under the federal sentencing guidelines, providing ‘substantial assistance’ is often the only way defendants can hope to obtain a sentence below the mandatory minimum.”

You go on to say, “The U.S. Sentencing Commission itself has noted that ‘the value of a mandatory minimum sentence lies not in its imposition, but in its value as a bargaining chip to be given away, in return for the resource saving plea from the defendant, to a more leniently sanctioned charge.’ Describing severe mandatory sentences as a bargaining chip is a major understatement, given its potential for extracting guilty pleas from people who are innocent of any crime.” Can you go on to describe both of those paragraphs that I read from your book? Can you go on to expand on them, so the listeners have a better understanding about what is going on with snitches in jail?

Professor Michelle: Yes. There was actually a very good article in the New York Times recently about the increased power of prosecutors today as a result of harsh mandatory minimum sentences, and how prosecutors are able to coerce people into pleading guilty, whether they may be guilty or not, by threatening them with these extremely harsh penalties.

And I told a number of stories of defendants who were first offered maybe two years for the alleged crime, and the defendant would say, “No, I’m taking it to trial because I’m innocent.” Then the prosecutor would come back and say, “OK, we’ll give you five years,” and the defendant would say, “No, no, I want to take it to trial.”

And then finally the prosecutor would come back with a 20-year mandatory minimum sentence and say, “You’re going to prison for 20 years if you try to take this thing to trial. You could roll your dice with the jury, or you could take the plea deal.” And how defendants would cave, understandably terrified of rolling their dice with a jury, whether they are innocent or guilty, accept guilty pleas convicting themselves and getting branded a felon for life.

And snitches have never played a larger role in law enforcement than they do today. Thanks largely to the war on drugs, we have people that are on the payroll, who are getting paid by law enforcement to snitch on their relatives, their neighbors, people in their community, feeding law enforcement information for pay.

Then on top of that, you have people facing these unbelievable mandatory minimum sentences, sometimes for minor offenses, and terrified that they might have to spend the rest of their life in prison if they don’t turn a family member in or turn a friend in. Under that kind of pressure, people will often provide information, and sometimes that information isn’t truthful. So terrified people are of spending the rest of their life in prison, or a decade in prison, that they succumb to the temptation to provide false information to the police to avoid prison time.

You know this has resulted in gross miscarriages of justice and really destroyed our communities, where families and relatives are turning on each other, not to provide information to law enforcement about serious crimes of great danger that may be facing the community but simply to turn folks in for petty crimes. Again, often the same types of crimes of drug possession or drug sales that go ignored on college campuses, go largely ignored in middle class white communities but our communities have been turned against each other. In many cases, whole communities find themselves trapped in this under-caste with family members cycling in and out of prison for life.

M.O.I. JR: We’ve talked a lot about the court system but your book expands beyond the court system, and talks about police and how this is a machine. It is not just the courts, but it is a whole political machine that is mass incarcerating the Black community and the Brown community.

On one part you talk about racial profiling, and the war that it has played in the “war on drugs.” Can you expand on police racial profiling Black people and how this aids their war against the Black community?

Professor Michelle: Yes. Over the past couple of decades, the U.S. Supreme Court has really eviscerated Fourth Amendment protections against unreasonable searches and seizures. The Supreme Court has given the police license to stop, interrogate, search just about anyone anywhere without a shred of evidence of criminal activity. The police no longer need reasonable suspicion or probable cause to stop someone, interrogate them on the street, frisk them, so long as they have what is called consent.

What’s consent? Consent is when a police officer walks up to a young man on the street, with one hand on his gun, and says, “Son, you turn around and put your hands in the air, so I can frisk you to see if you have anything on you.” And the kid goes “uh huh” and complies. That is considered consent. There’s no Fourth Amendment protection for that individual once he puts his arms up in the air and nods his head. The police have license to frisk him, search him without any evidence of any criminal activity.

Well, granting the police license to behave in that way, knowing full well that hardly anyone refuses consent to the police because they don’t feel that they actually have the power to refuse consent to the police. Knowing that virtually everyone complies, the Supreme Court has opened the door for rampant discrimination in police stops and searches.

You know the police don’t sweep college campuses, stopping and frisking kids on their way to class, pulling over kids in middle class white communities and asking to search their car for drugs. No, the police never behave that way on college campuses and in middle class white communities. They do it exclusively in poor communities of color.

But the court has made it virtually impossible to prove racial bias in the criminal system today, because the court has ruled in a series of cases beginning with McClesky v. Kemp and Armstrong v. United States that unless you can provide evidence of conscious, intentional bias, tantamount to an admission by a police officer or a prosecutor that they were acting with racial bias, you can’t even state a claim for race discrimination in the criminal justice system, no matter how overwhelming the statistical evidence might be or how severe the racial disparity is or might be.

This is an enormous problem because most police officers and prosecutors, like the rest of us, know better than to say, “Yeah, your honor, I stopped him because he was Black,” or “Yeah, I would have given him a better plea deal but he was Black or he was Latino.” Most law enforcement officials like the rest of us know better than to state our racial biases out loud, but more importantly so many of the stereotypes and biases that drive law enforcement decision-making are unconscious.

Most of the crowd at the March 21 Million Hoodie March in New York City were Black, and then there was this provocative "white guy." - Photo: Mario Tama, Getty Images
People are not even fully aware of how biased they are when making decisions about who to stop and search or who they view as more likely to be a criminal. But by refusing to allow people to challenge patterns of racial bias for discriminatory stops, the Supreme Court has effectively immunized this system of mass incarceration from judicial scrutiny of racial bias, much in the same way that the Supreme Court once rallied to the defense of slavery and Jim Crow in their day.

M.O.I. JR: Can you talk a little bit about the Baldus Study? In your book on page 107, you say, “The study found that defendants charged with killing white victims received the death penalty 11 times more often than defendants charged with killing Black victims. Georgia prosecutors seem largely to blame for the disparity. They sought the death penalty in 70 percent of cases involving Black defendants and white victims, but only 19 percent of cases involving white defendants and Black victims.” Can you expand on the Baldus Study?

Professor Michelle: Yes. Well, you know, the Baldus Study showed definitively – and the results of that study have been replicated elsewhere – that who lives and who dies from the death penalty has more to do with the race of the victim than just about anything else.

You know, white lives are valued more by juries than Black lives, and so those who are put to death are those who kill white people, not those who kill Black people. And when Black people kill white people, they are most likely to be put to death.

And the Baldus Study was an incredibly comprehensive statistical study showing the incredibly powerful role that race was playing in determining who lives and who dies and who receives the death penalty in the criminal justice system in Georgia. And there were just mountains of statistical evidence – regression analysis controlling for all of these non-racial factors that could possibly explain the outcome – and the U.S. Supreme Court didn’t disagree with the data. It didn’t challenge or quarrel with the data.

In fact, the Supreme Court acknowledged the data seemed accurate but it said that no matter how severe the racial disparities might be, no matter how overwhelming the statistical evidence is, unless you can provide evidence of that conscious, intentional bias, find some prosecutor who is basically willing to admit, “Yeah, I sought the death penalty because he was Black,” you can’t even state a claim for racial bias in the criminal justice system today.

M.O.I. JR: Later on in the book you go on to say, “Practically from cradle to the grave, Black males in urban ghettos are treated like current or future criminals. One may learn to cope with the stigma of criminality but, like the stigma of race, the prison label is not something that a Black man in the ghetto can ever fully escape.

“For those newly released from prison, the pain is particularly acute. As Dorsey Nunn, an ex-offender and co-founder of All of Us or None, once put it, ‘The biggest hurdle that you got to get over when you walk out of those prison gates is shame.’ That shame, that stigma, that label, that thing you wear around your neck saying I’m a criminal is like a yoke around your neck, and it will drag you down and even kill you if you let it.” Can you go on to explain how after leaving prison, the stigma doesn’t leave Black males in particular?

Professor Michelle: Well, that’s right. It does not, and I think Dorsey Nunn put it very well. It is a stigma; it’s shame. It can drag you down and even kill you if you let it. That shame, that stigma follows you for life and it’s part of what leads so many people who are branded felons or criminals to try to pass, not just by lying to employers or housing officials by refusing to check the box but also by avoiding, denying, lying to friends and family members about their own criminal history or that of their loved ones.

There’s an excellent ethnographic study done in Washington, D.C., of neighborhoods hard hit by mass incarceration, neighborhoods where literally every house or every other apartment had a family member who is currently behind bars or who had been recently released from prison, neighborhoods where you would think that incarceration is so normal everybody would be talking about it all of the time, and to some extent that was true.

But even in these neighborhoods they couldn’t find one person, not one, who had fully come out to their friends, neighbors or loved ones, who had come out about their own criminal history or that of their loved ones. Children when asked by a relative, “Where’s your daddy? I haven’t seen your daddy for a while.” The child would say, “Oh, my daddy? I don’t know where my daddy is,” knowing full well that their father is behind bars. People when stopped by a neighbor on the street, who says, “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you for months? It’s been years? How are you doing?” the person would say, “You know, I’ve been here and there. I’ve been out of town. I gotta go.”

The shame and stigma associated with being branded a criminal or a felon is so severe that it has kept us silent and in denial, shaming and blaming one another rather than coming together to challenge this new system as we must. So I fully believe that one of the most important things that we can do is break the silence around the system and end the shaming and blaming of those who have been caught up in the system or who have loved ones behind bars.

I mean, the truth is that we are all criminals. We are all criminals. We are all sinners. We’ve all made mistakes. All of us have broken the law at some point in our lives. Maybe we drank under age or we experimented with drugs; I often say that if the worse thing that you have ever done is be 10 miles over the speed limit on the freeway, you have put yourself and others at more risk of harm than someone smoking marijuana in the privacy of their living room.

But there are people in the United States doing life sentences for first time drug offenses, so we’ve got to stop this “us versus them” mentality and begin to see that all of us made mistakes in our lives, all of us have violated the law at some point, but only some of us are being demonized and stigmatized and relegated to a second class status for life.

All of us have violated the law at some point, but only some of us are being demonized and stigmatized and relegated to a second class status for life.

M.O.I. JR: Let’s talk a little bit about the exclusion of Blacks from juries. There’s a section of your book on page 188 where you say, “Another clear parallel between mass incarceration and Jim Crow is the systematic exclusion of Blacks from juries. One hallmark of the Jim Crow era was all-white juries trying all Black defendants in the South. Although the exclusion of jurors on the basis of race has been illegal since 1880, as a practical matter, the removal of prospective Black jurors through race-based peremptory strikes was sanctioned by the Supreme Court until 1985, when the Court ruled in Batson v. Kentucky that racially biased strikes violate the equal protection clause of the 14th Amendment. Today defendants face a situation highly similar to the one that they faced a century ago.” Can you expand on that?

Professor Michelle: Yes. All-white juries have been having a roaring comeback in many parts of the country that are racially diverse. Why? Because once you’ve been branded a felon, you’re deemed ineligible for jury service for the rest of your life. And if you’ve ever had a “negative experience” with law enforcement, you could be struck from a jury for cause. Good luck finding many African-Americans, as well as many poor Latinos who have not yet had a negative experience with law enforcement that would justify their exclusion from a jury for cause. In this way, all-white juries have been having a roaring comeback in many parts of the country, and this has been completely under the radar – the ways in which African-Americans have been stripped of the right to serve on juries – yet again as a result of a discriminatory caste-like system.

M.O.I. JR: Later on in the book, you go on to say, “In the era of mass incarceration, what it means to be a criminal in our collective consciousness has become conflated with what it means to be Black. So the term ‘white criminal’ is confounding, while the term ‘Black criminal’ is nearly redundant.” Why did you say that?

Professor Michelle: I think it is important for people to really grasp how much criminality has become part of the way that the public views African-Americans. You know, when someone says Black criminal, it’s almost unnecessary to have that adjective before the word criminal because when people imagine criminals, they imagine Black folks.

In fact, there was a study done in the mid-1990s. It was a national survey, where they asked participants to close their eyes and to imagine for a moment a drug criminal. Ninety-five percent of the respondents pictured an African-American. Only 5 percent pictured someone of any other ethnic or racial group.

The idea of drug criminals and criminals generally being African-American is so deeply rooted in our collective sub-conscious that criminal and Black have become conflated, and it’s that conflation of Blackness and criminality that inspired the overwhelming punitiveness that has helped to give rise to mass incarceration.

M.O.I. JR: Where do we go from here?

Professor Michelle: Well, it’s my own view that nothing short of a major social movement has any hope of ending mass incarceration in America. And I find, when I travel around speaking to folks about the need for movement-building in the United States around mass incarceration, they often push back. They’re freaked out by the idea of having to build a movement. It sounds too big and too overwhelming.

If you doubt that such a movement is necessary, consider this: If we were able to get back to the rates of incarceration that we had in the 1970s, before the “war on drugs” and the “get tough” movement kicked off, we would have to release four out of five people who are in prison today. Four out of five!

More than a million people employed by the criminal justice system would lose their jobs. Private prison companies listed on the New York Stock Exchange would be forced to watch their profits vanish. This system is so deeply rooted in our social-political-economic structure that it’s not just going to fade away if we continue tinkering with it and working for mere reform.

No, it’s going to take a major upheaval, a dramatic shift in our public consciousness, if we ever hope to end this system of mass incarceration as a whole. So I believe we need to go back and pick up where Dr. King and Ella Baker and so many others left off and do the hard work of movement-building on behalf of poor people of all colors in the United States.

The former prisoners who compose All of Us or None gather in support of the San Francisco 8, former Black Panthers picked up on 30-year-old torture-induced charges of killing a white cop. Eventually, they beat the rap. – Photo: Scott Braley
And there are wonderful movement-building efforts already underway in California. All of Us or None and Critical Resistance have been working for years to build this movement, and we have got to build upon the work that they have begun – to build a movement that won’t just tinker with this system, won’t just reform it, but will bring the system of mass incarceration to an end and inspire a more compassionate, caring approach to poor people of color, one that honors basic human rights – rights to work, rights to shelter and to food.

I believe it has to be a human rights movement for education not incarceration and for jobs not jails – a human rights movement that opposes all forms of discrimination against people released from prison, discrimination that denies them basic human rights to work, to shelter and to food.

A great awakening has to begin, and we have got to stop shaming and blaming one another and embrace all of the members of our community including those labeled criminals, because it’s been the refusal and failure to recognize that dignity and humanity of all people that has been the sturdy foundation for all caste systems that have ever existed in America.

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The People’s Minister of Information JR is associate editor of the Bay View, author of “Block Reportin’” and filmmaker of “Operation Small Axe” and “Block Reportin’ 101,” available, along with many more interviews, atwww.blockreportradio.com. He also hosts two weekly shows on KPFA 94.1 FM and kpfa.org: The Morning Mix every Wednesday, 8-9 a.m., and The Block Report every Friday night-Saturday morning, midnight-2 a.m. He can be reached at blockreportradio@gmail.com.