Awol — Issue 001

American University’s independent Voice

Washington, DC 20016

001 2 0 0 8 .0 3 Issue Number I March 2008

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American University's Independent Voice

American Way of Life

Washington, DC 20016 MISSION

001 2 0 0 8 .0 3 is a vehicle for alternative media that seeks to ignite political and cultural discussions on campus, and provide a space for students to question the structural and social framework of American University in an attempt to make the campus more egalitarian and socially conscious. The publication serves as a resource to grassroots movements by w riting and reporting on local and global efforts toward a more just society. Bridg­ ing gaps and making connections between people of different ethnicities and ways of thinking are goals of the publication. Providing extensive, in-depth reporting on issues that do not make the headlines of mainstream publications while creating a forum for activists to write, analyze, and organize, a w o l is a publication that strives toward a more progressive future without compromising issues of today.

AWOL

Issue Number 1 March 2008

EDITOR IN CHIEF M A N A G IN G EDITOR DESIGN & PRODUCTION

Bobby Allyn bobby.allyn@gmaiI.com Brittany Aubin bu;a5216@aoI.com Rafik Salama rajifesays@gmail.com

SECTION EDITORS OBITUARIES CLASSIFIEDS

Brittany Aubin Bobby Allyn

c a s u a l e n c o u n te rs

Andrew Tarrant

COPY EDITORS

Chris Lewis chris.Iewis@american.edu

Jacob Locke duloque@gmail.com

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Brittany Aubin buia5216@aol.com Andrew Dobbyn ad5260a@american.edu Alex LaBant alex.labant@gmail.com Casey McNeil caseymcneil@gmail.com Ava Page ap4290a@american.edu

Richard Phillips rp7282a@american.edu Andy Tarrant amtarrant@gmail.com Laura Taylor h3814a@american.edu Elizabeth Tseng et3882a@american.edu

ART & LAYOUT CONTRIBUTORS PHOTOGRAPHERS

DESIGN c o n t r i b u t o r

Editor s Note

We decided on ‘ trapped ’ as the theme of our first issue. Whether sociaily, physically, or politically, many people feel trapped from a structure or system that seems in­ surmountable. Popular media and years of ignorance have artificially constructed some of these struc­ tures, while others are the result of narrow-minded legislation or reckless bureaucratic decisions.

However, feeling alienated and isolated is not always a neverending ruthless cycle; creative ve­ hicles of self-expression, lobbying efforts, and genuine conversation of the topics bring the issues into larger dialogues, enacting change, or, at least, making progress toward more liberated and toler­ ant future.

c o v e r p h o to b y COMIC BY

Michael Canning mifeccannl@hotmail.com Laura Shuetz laura.schuetz@gmail.com Jesslca Taich jessica_taich@yahoo.com Helena Rosado <flickr.com/photos/gatinhice> Josh Kramer josh.p.feramer@gmail.com

CONTACTS & INQUIRIES

Like a story? Hate a story? Want to join a w o l? W rite to us: at a u to la u @ g m a il.c o m , or visit us online at: <awolonline.org> s u p p o r t / a f f il a t io n s

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Make sure to visit us online at:

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march 2008

ISSUE NO 001 OBITUARIES

4

Unpopular Progressive Opinions

BY RICHARD PHILLIPS

4

The Needle and the Damage Done

BY ELIZABETH TSENG

5

Bitch*

BY BOBBY ALLYN

CLASSIFIEDS

6

Breaking Down the Cell Walls

BY BRITTANY AUBIN

9

A Civil Death: Civil Disenfranchisement and DC

BY CASEY MCNEIL

10

Shakespeare in Orange

BY AVA PAGE AND LAURA TAYLOR

CASSUAL ENCOUNTERS

12

Missed Connections BYANDYTARRANT

12

Club Profile: Justice Not Jails

BY LAURATAYLOR

13

I Was Jammed byA n d e w

14

Do b b y n

Calendar of Events COMPILED BY ALEX LABANT & BOBBYALLYN

15

"We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it."

Unbuckling the Beltway BYjOSH KRAMER

- Tennesse Williams

Obituaries is dedicated to topics that escape the headlines but deserve atten­ tion. Keeping it succinct yet hard-hitting, this section captures the issues we want you to know about, offering news bytes with an editorial twist.

Unpopular Progressive Opinions The Needle a the Damage Done Bitch*

4 4 5

UNPOPULAR PROGRESSIVE OPINIONS

Clinton or Obama? Neither.

by Richard Phillips

Every four years we hold out hope for a progressive candidate to carry the Democratic Party out of the hole that it has dug it ­ self. We want a candidate who is experienced, truly progressive, and who can actually win. As during past elections, progressives w ill have to compro­ mise their values to vote for a pseudo-progres­ sive, equivocating middle-of-the-road candidate.

Upon first sight, the top two Democratic con­ tenders seem like a dream come true for the Left.

Hillary Clinton is the first viable woman candidate and has fought for decades to pass a progressive agenda, especially for universal healthcare. Barack Obama is the first viable black candidate and con­ tinues to represent an authentic progressive rejec­ tion of the status quo in Washington. Unfortunately, both candidates are too flawed to take up the role of being the standard bearer for progressivism.

The central problem w ith Obama is his lack of ex­ perience at affecting change in Washington. It is one thing to call for change, it is another to build the co­ alition necessary to create change. In the only two years he has been on the national level, he has done strikingly little to effect any sort of change. Even on his own Web site, the only law that it touts as being his is one that created a Web site showing campaign contributions. No doubt there is other small ac­ complishments that he can point to, but nothing so far justifies the dramatic portrayal of him as an ef­ fective force of change in Washington. Until Obama shows that he can be effective in making change, why would serious progressives risk voting for a candidate that could be a lame duck upon arrival?

Contrasting Obama, Hillary’s desperation to appear centrist and strong hasledherto avoid pushing for the dramatic changes that are at the heart of a progressive or even the Democratic base's agenda. Her much publi­ cized ambivalence to the War in Iraq is a perfect exam­ ple. Being a smart politician, Hillary has consistently used anti-war rhetoric in calling for an immediate pull out of troops from Iraq and criticized the handling of the war by the Bush administration. However, behind this rhetoric, Hillary’s plan for Iraq w ill allow signifi­ cant numbers of troops to be active in Iraq until 2013.

The problem throughout her policies is that Hillary wants to have it both ways: the anti-war vote for calling for a troop pull out, and not lose any pro-war votes by keeping significant numbers of troops in Iraq. Though this is arguably smart politicking for the general elec­ tion, it also goes against the wishes of the majority of Americans and overwhelming wishes of the Demo­ cratic Party’s base. Most importantly, it is also bad pol­ icy considering that the US has lost any clear role in Iraq that would allow it to “w in” much of anything. H il­ lary’s ambivalence is rife throughout her policies—be it healthcare, campaign finance, or immigration. There is no reason to believe that she w ill change the error of her ways and look to a consistent progressive agenda.

It is important to admit the damning flaws of both Obama and Hillary. If you listen to the m ain­ stream media, they say it is already too late. The progressive base of the Democratic Party yearns for real change. The strong “viable” candidates need to heed these calls or face the harsh conse­ quences: alienating the base of their party, again.

Richard Phillips, 19, died after choking on empty political rhetoric Tuesday morning.

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The Needle & the Damage Done

by Elizabeth Tseng

odium thiopental to cause unconscious­ ness. Pancuronium bromide to paralyze muscles, including those necessary to breathe. Potassium chloride to end all heart function. In ten minutes, the amount of time to walk across American University’s cam­ pus, a former coworker, neighbor, friend, spouse, is dead by lethal injection.

Except, when the concoction doesn’t work as planned. When used together, sodium thiopental, pancuronium bromide, and potassium chloride are known as the three-drug cocktail, used to end the lives of inmates in the majority of death penalty cas­ es in the United States. But w ith anti-death penalty watchdogs. Supreme Court plaintiffs and even the creator of the current legal injection system raising questions about the trio's effectiveness, the humane faca =de of the needle falls away.

During an execution, the first injection of sodium thiopental works to render inmates unconscious and theoretically numb to the lethal effects of Drugs Two and Three. Yet in some documented cases, the chemical has failed to anesthetize prisoners. As the second drug is administered, the conscious but par­ alyzed inmate suffocates, unable to voice pain.

Aside from chemical malfunctions, the Death Penalty Information Center, a Washington non-prof­ it, maintains a list of botched executions. There are countless examples of lethal injections where the in ­ mates were repeatedly poked and prodded because executioners were unable to find suitable veins to use. As a result, the ten-minute process is far more drawn out and painful than any human being should have to experience.

This past December, Governor Corzine of New Jer­ sey recently passed a law ending capital punishment because he is strongly against “state-endorsed k ill­ ing." If other states were willing to follow Governor Corzine's model, the 3,350 inmates trapped on death row documented by the Criminal Justice Project could be given a new lease on life.

Supporters of the death penalty claim it is a per­ manent solution that makes the world a safer place.

In an opinion piece for USA Today, former New York Gov. George Pataki defended his decision to make the death penalty legal because it “put [fear] back where it belongs - in the hearts of criminals.” Pataki also cited that violent crime and murders dropped sig­ nificantly in the two years since the establishment of the death penalty. To further emphasize his point, he brought up New York serial killer Arthur Shawcross who killed eleven people after he was released from prison for raping and murdering two children.

Unfortunately, said Pataki, Shawcross predated the instatement of the death penalty, or eleven lives could have been saved.

While supporters of the death penalty argue that death is the securest method to deal with serious criminals, anti-death penalty activists push for re­ form of the judicial system so sentences are fair and the accused are fairly represented in court. Along w ith many other anti-death penalty organizations, the National Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty proposes life without parole as an alternative to the death penalty. Likewise, While Governor Corzine is firm ly against the death penalty, he is a strong advo­ cate of life without parole, which is the punishment

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for New Jersey’s former death row inmates.

In early January, the Supreme Court heard a case on the constitutionality of the lethal injection proce­ dure. As a result of the two death row inmates' law­ suit, many states have placed a moratorium on lethal injections. The plaintiffs argued that lethal injection is cruel and unusual punishment based on autopsy records of a 1999 Kentucky execution where the in­ mate was “awake but unable to cry out” because the anesthesia failed to work properly. In the Kentucky case, as well as in other ac- «»continued on page 12

The Numbers: $169 m iu io n ; President lu s h ’s 2008 request for increasing prison capacity: : i-in-100; American adults are behind bars. i-in -io o : Black women are )ailed, compared to 1 in 350 white women. i-in-36 Hispanic men and i-in -is black men are in ja ilo r prison.

The US hasthe highest rate of prisoners in the world, with more than 2.3 million people behind bars 487; the number of white male sentenced prison inmates per100,000 white males in the United States (1 In every 205 white men) 73: average number of months a woman con­ victed of homicide spends in prison 85; average number of months a white man convicted of homicide spends in prison io 6 : average number of months a black man convicted of homicide spends in prison 172,116: number of state and federal prisoners in Texas In 2006. Texas’s state motto; Friendship.

3,350; number of inmates on death row in 2007 40: number of minutes necessary for nurses to find a vein in the execution by legal injection of John Hightower in June 2007 1,099: number of executions as of 2007 660: number of death row inmates in California in 2006 58: percent of male Washington, D.C. inmates with 11 years or less of formal schooilng 25; percent of male Inmates imprisoned for drug offenses in D.C. 127: number of D.C. inmates in private contract facilities in September 2007

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photo by LAURASHUETZ

^explained Words wield incredible power. As activists around identity politics have of­ ten reminded us, identity-related pejorative language, that has percolated its way into the common vernacular, is oppressive, silencing, and marginal­ izing. For example, “bitch.”

The word’s derogatory usage dates back to 1811 when it was considered more offensive than the term ‘whore,’ according to the 1811 Dictionary of Vulgar Tongue. Since its demeaning inception, the word has been used as a mechanism to subdue women, to deride women who speak out, and to perpetuate the idea that women are inferior. Describing the word’s deep cul­ tural roots, Joey Horsley of Fembio.org writes, “The bitch-image is ancient, its misogynist associations deeply ingrained; like many assumptions about women, it has so long been a part of the culture; that i t ’s taken for granted as ‘natural.’” However, jokingly using “bitch" as an insult and society’s con­ ception that women are inferior does not have an apparent causal chain this is the reason why so many think its usage is harmless; but its repetitive utterance has led to centuries of inequality and oppression. Professor Gay Young, director of American University’s Gender Studies Program, said that oppressive language creates oppressive action. “Using the term “bitch” ab­ solutely constructs real oppression,” she said. “Because language constructs in important ways: both in experience and reality.”

But sometimes its usage can be harmless, or even empowering. As Pa­ mela Meritt, founder of the blog Angry Black Bitch, told NPR last October, “The b-word differs person to person. I don’t want to ban the word or take it out of the public discourse. There are definitely empowered, fierce voices using it in different ways,” Meritt said. Professor Young compares the term “fag” to “bitch,” noting the similarities in usage. “It [the term fag] is deployed

by Bobby Allyn the same way ‘bitch’ is used. That is, to keep people in line, maintaining the status quo of dominance and subordination,” she said. It may seem like a double standard for bitch to be accepted in one circumstance but not in another, but it ’s really a m atter of how the word is used. For example, ‘black’ used to be a word that functioned primary as an insult, but now the word is descriptive more than pejorative, despite the negative connotations the word still carries {e.g. blackmail, black market, black magic). The way words’ connotations morph and become culturally accepted over years of usage is an extremely complicated evolution, but is “bitch” culturally acceptable?

Is it acceptable when women use it? How about feminists? Young said the term ’s evaluation is not that simple, but admits that its reclamation is pos­ sible. “It’s a tough line to walk. I think i t ’s interesting to raise a lot of ques­ tions and point to different perspectives [on the term bitch], but it should be dealt w ith caution,” she said. “If you claim it in your own terms it can be empowering, but imposing it on someone else is problematic.”

The popular feminist magazine Bitch describes how the word can be embraced on their Web site’s About page, “When it ’s being used as an in ­ sult, ‘bitch’ is an epithet hurled at women who speak their minds, who have opinions and don’t shy away from expressing them, and who don’t sit by and smile uncomfortably if they’re bothered or offended. If being an outspoken woman means being a “bitch,” we’ll take that as a compliment, thanks.” But when it ’s used to describe a person who lacks audacity, courage, or strength, it ’s undeniably undermining a movement by reaffirming the word’s etymological roots.

It’s important to understand the cultural and historical significance the word “bitch” carries. You m ight think that using it won’t >• continued on page 13

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Classifieds digs deep into stories, tracking down witnesses, victims, activists, and experts to find the truth behind the sound bytes and emotion behind the ledes.

Breaking Down the Celi Wails A Civil Death: Civil Disenfranchisement and DC Shakespeare in Orange

6 9 10

Donald Jones was alone in a bare room. He had fin­ ished his meal of chicken strips, pizza, coleslaw, fries, and apple crisp with ice cream. Jones lay on the metal gurney, covered in a thin sheet. It was lo a.m. on Wednesday morning, tie was about to die.

On the other side of the glass window, his family was waiting. Sally Vavrek, his pen pal of eight years, stood among them as Jones was given the first of the three injections that would soon take his life.

"It wasn’t a peaceful death,” said Vavrek, 56, now a board member of Maryland Citizens Against State Executions (MD CASE). "I envisioned us holding hands and ushering him into the kingdom in a loving way.

But it was just - an amusement park ride w ith a black light or some­ thing. W ith his mother screaming, he jumped off the gurney. It was just the most horrible, horrible few minutes you could even imagine,” Vavrek said.

Vavrek had to have seen this day coming almost a decade earli­ er, when she selected a letter from Jones at a conference of religious groups organizing against the death penalty. Yet, she, like many other men and women across the country, chose to build a relationship.

"The most important thing is for us to realize that these are people like everybody else,” said Vavrek. “In some places, those prisoners get locked up and nobody even thinks about them.”

Whether motivated by religion, conviction or simple curiosity, death row pen pals, as these writers are commonly called, connect often-iso­ lated inmates to the world beyond their cells. While no one knows how many pen pals are out there, they are on the frontlines of a burgeoning anti-death penalty movement, bringing the stories of death row into America’s classrooms and offices.

Recent years have seen an upswing in moratoriums on state ex­ ecutions and death row exonerations. New Jersey banned the death penalty last December. New York and Illinois have general holds on executions and ten other states have holds due to execution meth­ ods, according to a representative from the Death Penalty Information Center. Executions across the country have been declining since the start of the century, with 53 in 2006 compared to 98 in 1999.

Yet, even as the incidences of executions fall, conditions on death rows have remained essentially the same, if not deteriorated. In the last twenty years, security concerns and social isolation at prisons have only increased, keeping prisoners even further from outside soci­ ety, said Robert Johnson, author of Condemned to Die: Life Under the Sentence of Death and an expert in social isolation on death row.

“Death row inmates sometimes talk of themselves as the living dead because they're alive but they are seen as dead men or women,” said Johnson. “As a general matter, the inmates feel that even the limited social world of the prison is closed to them.”

While death row prisoners are not necessarily the most violent, the sentences they are serving are dreadfully severe. “Essentially, Death row is seen as a place to store bodies before execution, so there is little, if any effort towards rehabilitation and integration,” he said.

“We’d have fewer executions, I suppose, if we came to know and care about everybody in prison, but people don't. Part of the rationalization is to have distance.” said Johnson, whose own sunny comer office with its collection of knick-knacks and family photos seemed a world away from the concrete cavern of Baltimore’s death row. A wall of books on prison life and gold-embossed scales of justice could not attest to the

march 2008

poignant death row stories this whitebearded academic told.

Bonnita Spikes, a death row pen pal and field organizer for MD CASE, spoke of the moving power of inmates’ stories.

“Once people hear how some have actually lived, it gives them food for thought and starts the process of 'okay maybe I need to change my mind about this,'” Spikes said.

The letters of Abby Wihl are now just a few of the ones that flow into the Bal­ timore penitentiary. Wihl is a twentyyear-old sophomore at AU. She wears a Catholic Student Association T-shirt, denim jeans, and an assortment of sil­ ver and gold jewelry around her fingers, wrists, and ears.

“I don’t think my parents even know that I met a death row inmate yet,” she said as she nervously played w ith the trifecta of religious medallions resting under her collar, W ihl’s relationship with Maryland death row inmate John Booth began last March, after a class assignment piqued her interest in death row prisoners. The two have corresponded about six times, and Wihl is planning her second visit to the Baltimore Supermax where Booth resides. “To see how things are,” she said, blond ponytail bobbing rhythmically.

At the age of 29, Booth, a heroin addict with a tortured past, was convicted for the murder of an elderly couple in Balti­ more. Irvin Bronstein and his wife Rose were found bound, gagged, and stabbed twelve times each in the chest, accord­ ing to court documents. Their television, jewelry, and 1972 Chevrolet Impala were missing.

Tventy-four years later, W ihl receives Booth’s letter at her dorm mailbox; it ’s typed in blue ink and closed w ith a sim­ ple hand-written 'John'.

“It has been the shadow or memory of that very bright smile of yours, coupled with your willingness to share in this ex­ perience, and assist me in this struggle - that has given my heart a reason to

7

CLASSIFIEDS

smile," he writes.

Booth came to know W ihl’s smile after she made the two-hour trek from AU's sheltered campus to the barbed wire complex that contains the Baltimore Supermax.

On that first visit, W ihl brought Booth pairs of socks and some undershirts; items that were novelties behind prison walls.

“Having the physical face and just seeing how sad he was, it was difficult,” she said. Maryland death row inmates can receive eight visits a month, however contact visits are rarely permitted and guests communicate through a speaker in a glass wall.

For Wihl, the pen-pal relationship turned a classroom assign­ ment into a dedication to social change. She is now the co-presi­ dent of AU's chapter of the Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty and an active participant in the Maryland campaign to end capi­ tal punishment. She has studied the documents surrounding Booth’s case and sent Booth’s former judge a copy of her findings.

After sharing Booth’s story as part of her final class paper, Wihl changed her major to journalism so she could continue to tell the stories of those who couldn’t tell them alone.

“My conception changed,” she said. As for her effect on Booth, the 53-year-old comrowed convicted murderer, she shrugged.

“He got clothes out of it.” But for other pen pals corresponding with “the living dead” went deeper than socks and schoolwork.

Bonnita Spikes, the field organizer for MD CASE considers the prisoners on M a r y la n d ’s death row to be her per­ sonal friends; she follows their cases.

She attended Wesley Baker's execution in 2005 and keeps in touch w ith his mother. Herself a mother of four boys and a grandmother of ten, she has traveled across the country, from Miami to Atlanta to College Park, MD., to advocate against the death penalty. How­ ever, Spikes, 54, is also an active member of another organization - Murder Victims Families for Human Rights.

In 1994, Spikes's husband Michael was shot to death. His k ill­ ers were never found. But rather than seeking vengeance for her husband’s death, Spikes turned to activities she thought Michael would want her to do. She worked with hospice, homelessness and eventually the death penalty. “I understand, I really under­ stand because I lost my husband. And I loved my husband. I mean, I love him today. If I had a chance to be with him today, I would be w ith him. But I just don’t think that executions are the way to go.”

Spikes’ own son attempted suicide after his father’s death.

Still, she believes forgiveness is essential to breaking cycles of hate and crime, cycles that wouldn’t be broken by just locking people in the Supermax.

The families of the offenders are also victims and deserve help and support, said Spikes, who plans to write her Master’s thesis on helping the families of both murder victims and offenders.

When dealing w ith other victims’ families. Spikes acknowl­ edges that not everyone can forgive the way she did. “I say to anybody, I’m not trying to tell you how you should feel about this,” she said. "I’m just saying if you knew the way it ’s handled, it ’s not handled right. It’s flawed, she said. "The list of exonerated alone that should let you know there’s something wrong with our system.”

Spikes’ role as an anti-death penalty activist has changed more than her opinion on the death penalty After working with death row inmates. Spikes has seen the humanity of the offend­ ers she had once tried to hate.

She says her relationship w ith death row inmates has freed her to love her family and her life. “I wanted to find the killers that killed my husband and wanted them to be jailed and really

“The list of exonerated alone that should let you know there’s some­ thing wrong with our system.”

8

suffer in jail,” said Spikes, adding that holding onto that lust for revenge stagnated her family.

“Letting go,” she said. “I just wish more people could know that feeling because it ’s just not fun living with hate, waking up to hate every morning.”

Thanks in part to her forgiveness and willing­ ness to share the stories other pen pals. Spikes may soon be waking up to a new job: working to abolish the death penalty.

A bill repealing the death penalty, H.B. 225, should come to a vote in the Maryland Legislature this session and many at MD CASE are predicting that their work might soon be over.

Maryland has not used the death penalty and frequently as most states, said Johnson. The state has executed five people since 1976, said a repre­ sentative from the Death Penalty Information Cen­ ter.

Maryland’s reluctance to send convicts to their death reveals a public divided on methods of pun­ ishment. When asked to choose between life in prison without parole and the death penalty, 46 percent of Marylanders favored life without pa­ role, according to a poll by Gonzales Research and Marketing Strategies from March 2007. Forty-two percent preferred the death penalty. Ttvelve percent did not answer.

Maryland Governor Martin O’Malley counts him ­ self among the 46 percent. In a February 21, 2007 statement to the Maryland Legislature, he urged representatives to repeal the death penalty, stat­ ing, "While there are good people on both sides of this issue, in the long run, the death penalty cannot coexist w ith a republic founded on the inalienable dignity of the individual person.”

For members of the Maryland Legislature, O’Malley’s tenure signals a key moment in abolish­ ing the state's capital punishment laws. Freeing up the money spent on the death penalty would al­ low Maryland to spend money on safety and crime prevention, according to Delegate Samuel Rosen­ berg, the sponsor of H.B. 225. “So many people w ill feel safer where they work, where they live and where they play,” said Rosenberg, anticipating the programming possible if the death penalty was re­ pealed. In his testimony to the legislature. Governor O’Malley estimated that since 1978, Maryland has spent $22.4 m illion more than the cost of life im ­ prisonment by sentencing 56 people to death.

Besides mere financial gains, Maryland stands to influence other states if it repeals this session.

‘W e’re looked upon as the next big state,” said Rosenberg with a b it of boyish enthusiasm.

If O’Malley and Rosenberg have their way, pen pals like \/avrek and Spikes may no longer be stand­ ing on the other side of the execution chamber’s glass. For Vavrek, however, experiencing the life and death oth er pen pal has only cemented a com­ m itment to a larger movement.

“I'm still not sure about my motives,” she said, her grandson’s Raffi music trailing in the background.

“All I know is that it did strengthen my resolve to keep working until this is gone from the world.” llllllllllllllll■llllllllllllllllllmllllllllllllllMllllllllMll■llnlllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll■lll■lll■lllllllllllllll■lll■lllllll■llMlll■llllllllllllll

Brittany Aubin is selling an oid pair of handcuffs. They’re kind of rusted and racist, but besides that, they're in great shape. $50.00 obo.

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A Civil Death:

Civil Disenfranchisement and DC

by Casey McNeiL

im punity by anyone." In England, a person convicted for a felony he war in Iraq calls attention to many problems was stripped of the ability to inherit or bequeath property and of governance in the United States, beyond just a considered civilly dead—unable to bring suit or perform any wrongheaded policy of preemptive warfare. No­ bid contracts to large corporations, the transfer other legal function. English colonists brought these concepts w ith them to North America, resulting in an unjustified denial of resources from domestic priorities (perhaps most tragically apparent in the neglect of New of liberties.

As for the justifications behind these policies, some courts Orleans’ levies), the disproportionate number of poor people in the military, all shed light on long-standing havesocial argued that ex-offenders should not be able to vote because they have shown themselves to be lacking the “requisite judg­ problems that have too often been ignored. For D.C. residents, the ment and discretion” needed to be able vote “responsibly.”

Contextualize this statement with the fact that nearly three-quarters—73 percent—of the disenfranchised are not in prison, but are on probation or parole or have Without a vote, a voice, I am a ghost inhabiting a completed their sentences, and we see a gross misuse citizen’s space...I want to walk calmly into a poll­ of 'pure democracy’ to strategically deny rights to large portions of the population. Our criminal justice system is ing place with other citizens, to carry my placid clearly not just “in the business” of restoring justice, but ballot into the booth, check off my choices, then perpetuating the criminalization and incarceration of certain sectors of our population—as deprivation of the drop my conscience in the common box. right to vote does nothing to promote the reintegration of offenders into society, but further marginalizes them and thus participates in perpetuating the circumstances Joe Loya, disenfranchised ex-felon that caused their crime.

We begin to question our nation’s commitment to democra­ war in Iraq demonstrates deplorable ironies and hypocrisies and cy for all when we see how democracy is carefully granted to some and denied to others. After the Civil War and passage of highlights the long-standing injustice of the District’s lack of vot­ the Fifteenth Amendment to the US. Constitution, which gave ing rights. blacks the right to vote, southern opposition to black suffrage led Since there were no WMDs in Iraq and the claim that Iraq was an imm inent threat no longer flies, the revised objectives of the to the decision to use numerous ostensibly race-neutral voting war are about bringing democracy to the people of Iraq. Mean­ barriers—e.g., literacy and property tests, poll taxes, grandfather while, in our nation’s capital, residents who pay tax dollars that clauses and criminal disenfranchisement provisions—w ith the explicit intent o f keeping as many blacks as possible from being fund the war—D.C. has the second highest per capita tax rate in able to vote. Although laws excluding criminals from the vote had the nation—and who risk their own lives to fight the war—D.C. residents have fought in more wars per capita than residents of any state—are denied the right to elect the Congressional lead­ ers who make decisions about the war. As we pay lip service to Our democracy is weakened when one the importance of democracy overseas in Iraq, over ha lf a m illion people in D.C. are denied democratic participation here at home. sector of the population is blocked out But. of course, this is an imperfect analogy. Iraqi citizens are of the voting process. being freed from a violent and oppressive dictator and some would argue that District residents already live in a prosperous democracy that values individuals’ rights and opportunities. So Rep. John Conyers, Jr, what’s the big deal? Why should Congressional representation existed in the U.S. Congressman matter to D.C. residents?

South pre­ To answer these questions fully is impossible in this space, but viously, these and one example of the cost o f the District’s disenfranchisement is other exclusionary voting regulations laws were used after the its lack of budget autonomy. The District’s budget must be ap­ Civil War specifically to prevent black citizens from voting. proved each year by Congress, which has the power to overrule Over 70 percent of District residents are African American, democratic decisions made by D.C. residents. For example, gun while the national figure is roughly 25 percent. These 570,000 control laws and needle exchange programs that residents have supported to address problems specific to their community have citizens continue to shoulder all the responsibilities of federal citizenship, from serving and dying in the military, sitting on been overruled by Congress for political reasons. Congress pre­ federal juries, and paying federal income taxes. In DC., African vents D.C. from spending its own local tax dollars on programs that taxpayers have deemed important, affecting public services Americans are incarcerated at ten times the rate of whites. Na­ tionwide, African Americans are incarcerated at a rate of more and lim iting the ability of local government to address issues of than eight times higher than whites. poverty, homelessness, health care, education, and crime preven­ Disenfranchisement has a devastating footprint beyond just tion in our community. But perhaps more important, especially to those of us who are in D.C. because we want to participate in the District, a strategic and, at times, permanent denial of rights to 13 percent of the nation’s African American voting popula­ our nation’s political process, is the hypocrisy of a nation that claims to be a beacon of democracy while denying citizens in its tion. This is the denial of basic citizens’ rights to former felons; a policy of exclusion both w ithin D.C. and nationally that has capital the right to participate in the federal government. a disproportionate impact on the voting power of minorities.

The disenfranchisement of D.C. residents and persons con­ victed of a felony means the denial of voting rights to over 6 m il­ Currently 5.3 m illion people are disenfranchised due to felony lion people in the United States. A look at the historical roots of convictions and over 2 m illion of these persons are permanently disenfranchised—silenced forever from the political system. this policy offers little clarity; our government is holding onto archaic practices of a “civil death" to all lawbreakers. In medieval Casey McNeil is selling a brand new Congressional voting booth. Free for Europe, infamous offenders suffered "civil death” which entailed anyone outside of the District. Serious Inquires only. “the deprivation of all rights, confiscation of property, exposure to injury and even to death, since the outlaw could be killed with

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march 2008

9

Shakespeare in orange

dozen young men sit in a circle, their bodies hunched over in chairs, pencils poised above notebooks in studied deliberation. The room is silent except for the persis­ tent scratching of lead against loose-leaf paper. Leon Miller, a student of the Free Minds Book Club and an inmate of the D.C. prison, rises and clears his throat.

‘Tve seen the lowest of low and been the highest of high, but when it ’s all over something inside you dies. I could be a coward, lower my head and cry, crawl into my cell then lie down and die.

But I know life’s not over; my heart tells me to fight; if I look hard enough I see my freedom in sight. Though I am behind these bars.

I’ll start my life anew. Despite these walls around me, my sun w ill still shine through.”

Miller, like the room’s other young poets, is a juvenile who has been charged as an adult in the District’s criminal justice system.

Denied access to even the limited rehabilitative programs offered to incarcerated adults, these young men cultivate their hope for a better future through an organization called Free Minds Book Club, learning to resurrect the “something inside” lost in the cramped cor­ ridors of this Southeast edifice of concrete and florescent lighting.

Former television reporters Tara Libert and Kelli Taylor founded the Free Minds Book Club after doing extensive reporting on the plight of juveniles in adult prisons. While they noted the lack of edu­ cational, vocational, and social rehabilitative resources available to youth behind bars, it was the death of Taylor’s friend Glen McGinnis

10

that moved the duo from obser­ vation to action.

McGinnis, an inmate on Texas’s Death Row whose capital sen­ tence stemmed from a crime he committed at 17, was executed in 2000. The execution ignited Taylor’s "desire to do more than just report on the problem.”

T\vo years later, the Free Minds Book Club began offering incar­ cerated youth in D.C. an emotional support system and a unique academic experience. Most importantly, through the Book Club, inmates gained the chance to reclaim themselves—through the evocative power of written and spoken word; they navigated their history of poverty, violence, and pain, using paragraphs and stanzas to build a better future.

Today, Free Minds serves more than fifty young men who are charged and incarcerated as adults at the D.C. Jail and has served over 200 youth since its start. In the District, as in many states, chil­ dren as young as 15 can be prosecuted as adults, making juveniles offenders eligible for life imprisonment and the death penalty. Doz­ ens of 16- and 17-year-oldboys are currently incarcerated in the D.C. Jail, and are often transferred to federal adult prisons in Ohio and Virginia after they reach legal age. According to Free Minds’ Web

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THE YOUNG BARDS OF D.C. JAIL & THE FREE MINDS BOOK CLUB site, the group's members are 92 percent African American and 8 percent Latino. The majority of these youth come from D.C.’s most crime-strick­ en neighborhoods—neighborhoods where nearly h a lf of the children live below the poverty line.

Products of these neighborhoods, many of them 16- and 17-year-old children, read at a fifth grade level. Most of them have completely disen­ gaged, if not dropped out from school. More than half of the youth involved in Free Minds have parents or other close family members who have been incarcerated, and many have children of their own.

Studies have shown juveniles incarcerated in adult facilities are more likely to remain entan­ gled in the criminal justice system throughout their lives, although those who have access to support programs like the Free Minds Book Club are less likely to end up behind bars again.

By engaging in intellectual discussions, pen­ ning essays and poems, and corresponding with pen pals. Book Club members reconnect to the creative and expressive facets of their person­ alities repressed by failing school systems and difficult personal histories, according to the Free Minds Web site.

“Free Minds has changed my life," said Lamarz Wilson, a member of the Book Club since 2004.

“I’m no longer the thug I used to be but a loving and kind person.”

Wilson, now a free man, still remains involved in the organization. He described his experience w ith the group as "amazing, generous, and lov­ ing” during a panel discussion at AU. In addition to the Book Club, Free Minds runs reentry and continuing support programs for former members. Many credit the group with their personal success after their release.

Wilbert Avila began participating in Free Minds when he was just sixteen and incarcer­ ated in the D.C. Jail.

“Free Minds has inspired me,” Avila said, dur­ ing a talk at AU. “I understand myself better. [The organization] showed me that in my moments of my anger and sadness I can look at life in a dif­ ferent way. Even though I may feel at the bottom, I can reach out for my goals.”

After leaving the D.C. jail, Avila participated in Free Minds reentry program and now attends University of the District of Columbia on schol­ arship. A mechanical engineering student, he excels academically while still maintaining a part-time job.

Frograms that help juvenile members after their release give inmates like Avila opportuni­ ties to stay on the outside, and not return to the habits that originally brought them to incarcera­ tion.

“It’s very hard for [these youth[ to change their lives when they face an array of obstacles,” Lib­ ert said.

The average incarceration rate of inmates is four years, and once out, they are faced with a daunted structure: the work force.

Compounding the difficulty of getting a job w ith a felony conviction and little education or life skills, recently released inmates also deal w ith issues surrounding affordable housing, lack

STORY BY AVA PAGE PHOTOGRAPHS BY KELLI TAYLOR

MY SOCIETY'S PROBLEM

SyRapheal Ward, age 17 of family support, peer pres­ sure, and low self-esteem, ac­ We deal with issues that inciude “ hateration” cording to Libert. it wiii continue to affect us for more generations “Free Minds connects re­ Peopie don’t reaiize they have learned how to hate leased members to the people, It’s so deep being blocked by anger and fate programs and services in the Friends pretend that they are loving the great life community that w ill help But the truth of the situation them to achieve their new is simply struggle and strife educational and career goals,” Just like me, we have too much pride she said.

But some don’t have a struggling mom by their side More than jobs. Free Minds You need to realize struggle is the way of life has connected inmates to the You see someone doing better world outside 1901 D St. SE. You rob him with no hesitation in sight Poetry created within those You see hustlers with a quick solution walls has gone on to literary So you start selling drugs readings and library displays, to handle problems that’s polluting praised for its ability to convey Selling drugs gets you everything you need the experience of youth behind But you’ll always be incarcerated bars.

Believe that indeed Free Minds’ candid verses People don’t care who gets hurt are a salient reminder of the As long as they getting paid by selling theirwork pervasive inequalities that Most don’t have time to worry about police or dying lead youth to prison and the Feeling like they already dying dehumanizing nature of an while they leave their parents left crying institution that saps away the I have pride in my culture vestiges of individuality. With I know my heritage so many people trapped in iso­ I’m not worthless and I am conditioned lation behind bars, can a soci­ to feel the advantage ety truly be free?

The projects are designed for those to fail How long w ill we as citizens, We don’t see the experiment sisters, brothers, friends, par­ But as young black males ents, spouses, and children of we live and die by consequence the 2,258,983 people im pris­ Men lose their confidence and are afraid to admit fear oned in the United States stay Deep inside they admit it with a little inside tear complacent in the face of such You see, hate is a very strong word to a young man a broken system? like me “If you don’t resolve the But if you don’t resolve the problem problem, the consequence w ill The consequence will last eternity last eternity,” says 17-year-old Free Minds member Raphael Ward.

Armed w ith ink and creative vigor, the young men of Free Minds demonstrate hum anity’s capacity for change and the dire need to question the power structures behind prison institutions.

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Ava Page is selling a copy of Foucault’s Discipline and Punish.

Willing to trade for any currently running prison institution. Con­ tact her for details.

For more information on the free m inds book club & writing WORKSHOP, or information on how you can support the organi­ zation, visit freeemindsbookclub.org, or contact by telephone at 202.468.4809 or by email at mail@freemindsbookclub.org.

Laura Taylor helped file this report.

Casual Encounters is a place for innovation, new creations, and the arts.

Whether comical, satirical, playful, or weird. Casual Encounters delivers a smorgasbord of expressive pieces that are quirky yet thematic.

Missed Connections Club Profile

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IWaslammed

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Calendar of Events Unbuckling the Beltway

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CLUB PROFILE

by Andy Tarrant

Society is so consumption-driven, the fulfillm ent of our immediate desires, and a drive to buy and own, that it seems a sad yet inevitable outcome to incorporate these val­ ues and mindsets into our romantic relationships.

We relentlessly pursue romantic relationships for personal fulfillm ent because it is such a deeply engrained cultural theme. Having found one, we cling to it beyond rationality, placing greater and often impossible - demands on our partners and accepting their treatment of us unquestioningly. Consider that thirty-one percent of American women report being physically or sexually abused by a husband or boyfriend, according to a 1998 Commonwealth Fund survey. And this from the Bureau of Justice: 588,490 women were victims of intimate partner violence in 2001, accounting for nearly eighty-five percent of the victims of that category of crime. Too often, a person w ill remain in an abusive relationship out of a fear that it is better than nothing, that she would be lost and alone without the abusive partner, or worst of all that she actually deserves such treatment. When a society measures ultimate fulfillm ent by find­ ing a mate, and simultaneously drums the impor­ tance of possession and ownership into our heads, it can’t be all that surprising when such ugly per­ versions of human love become commonplace.

In this way, partners become ensnared in emo­ tional, psychological, and often physical traps set by their abusive loved ones, their own minds, or a combination of both. Too afraid of the unknown alternative, or too scared to face up to our own fail­ ings and abuse of those we say we love, we remain in these snares for years and even whole lives. Mar­ riage, the venerable institution, has helped to keep people trapped in destructive relationships through threats of social exclusion and even eternal damna­ tion for centuries. However, legal marriage does lend to a desirable level of social stability and personal fulfillm ent, but tying the knot frequently leaves people trapped - personal fulfillm ent at a high cost.

Additionally, we focus on our romantic rela­ tionships to the exclusion and detriment of the wider society, and thus to the detriment of the so­ cial stability and happiness marriage purportedly seeks to create. Notwithstanding, divorce rates re­ main as popular as ever. Even gays and lesbians, who have so often been the vanguard questioners of social assumptions, now clamor to be let into that 'sacred' institution. Marriage, however, was historically a contract in which ownership of the woman was transferred from father to husband.

Many Marxists, anarchists, and other radical voices denounce modern marriage as a continuation of such arrangement, designed to keep women sub­ servient and everyone lulled into complacency. We ignore the needs of broader society because we are wrapped up in the needs and wants of our partners, our families, and ourselves. We work until we drop to afford the biggest, safest cars for our families, while ignoring and even deriding public transpor­ tation. We slave away to pay off student loans to save money for our children’s educations, yet we ignore the dire attention that should be placed on the accessibility of education to people of all so­ cioeconomics stratums. We >* continued next page

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Justice N ot Jails Think about prisons for a minute. What comes to mind? Criminal. Convicts. Guilt. Orange ju m p­ suits. Derelicts. People who have written off soci­ ety and are easy to write off in return.

Sophomore Ava Page and senior Emily Noll want to change that perception. The duo co­ founded the campus group Justice Not Jails last semester, aiming to shatter preconceived notions about crime, educate people about the brutalities of prison life, and create a campus movement around prison activism. Their mis­ sion is simple: change the crime paradigm.

“Too often, we rely on fear and ignorance to justify the mass imprisonment of millions of people, so it is often hard to create an alterna­ tive discussion and school of thought in the face of mass hysteria crime campaigns by politicians and media,” said Page, who feels the system is now discussed only in terms of crime control.

Page and Noll became interested in criminal justice reformation after taking part in an A l­ ternative Spring Break trip to San Francisco last year. They returned to AU as witness bearers, educators and advocates.

“After the Alternative Break Prison Justice Trip, I felt that the understanding the issue of incar­ ceration in the United States was extremely im ­ portant in trying to eradicate many other social inequalities like racism, classism, and sexism,” said Page, a Law and Society and Women and Gender Studies major.

“I wanted others in the AU and D.C. commu­ nity to gain the same understanding I had about an issue that is so immense but rarely discussed in American society,” she said.

Found just last year. Justice Not Jails has al­ ready done quite a bit to expel misconceptions about prison and justice system on campus. Sanho Tree, of the prog r e s s i Ve th in k -ta n k I n s t it u t e for Policy S tu d ie s, spoke about the in ­ te r n a ­ tio n a l a n d d o me s -

tic effects of the U.S. war on drugs for the club’s kick-off event for the school year. In November, the club hosted a panel on the incarceration of youth, which examined the practice of trying youth as adults and featured representatives of the Free Minds Book Club, Campaign for Youth Justice and other formerly incarcerated young people.

Just a month or so after their start. Justice Not Jails members organized a campus-wide book drive, collecting donated books and setting up libraries in local jails, institutions that have been bookless for years. To wrap up 2007, the group sponsored a coat and warm clothing drive to help relatives of those incarcerated in D.C. While Justice Not Jails may not have over­ thrown the criminal industrial complex in their brief existence, the club’s mix of educational events and direct community action fosters soli­ darity and understanding between such socially stereotyped groups as colligates and convicts.

Exposing the flaws of the justice system, while affirming the similarities among all humanity, the club is working to change the most unjust and unyielding of ja il cells.

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Justice Not Jails is really lonely on Thursday nights at 8:30 in Kay. Stop over and make justice Not Jails hap­ py—if you know what I mean.

“ THE NEW FACE OF THE C A M P U S L E F T ... C A M P U S PROGRESS HAS PROVIDED PROGRESSIVE STUDENTS WITH TOOLS THEY'VE NEVER HAD BEFORE.” - THE NATION

“ A SOCIALIST SMEAR GROUP” - YOUNG AMERICA’S FOUNDATION

FIND OUT WHAT ALL THE FUSS IS ABOUT.

Cont’d: The Needle... counts of mishandled exe­ cutions, it is clear lethal injection is a fate unfit for any human. To support such punishment would only further encourage a vindictive and biased system when valuable time and resources could be spent in effective reform programs for inmates and restitution programs for victim s’ families. ■

«» continued from page 4

{CAMPUS^PROGRESS} ACTI VISM, JOURNALISM, EVENTS

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Elizabeth Tseng, an anti-death penalty activist who re­ lentlessly lobbied Congress to abolish the death pen­ alty, died Friday from a collision with the S'" Amend­ ment. She was 18.

BUILDING A MOVEMENT, RIGHT NOW.

WWW.CAMPUSPROGRESS.ORG d iu n l

CASUAL ENCOUNTERS

If you’re an American University student, you’ve inevitably heard about the infamous Judicial Af­ fairs and Mediation Services system. If you’re caught drinking on campus, smoking marijuana, playing hall sports, or downloading torrents, you’re liable to come face-to-face with ja m s , the main disciplinary body on campus. The typical student gets off with minor charges, but penalties can also include loss of scholarship, housing, or expulsion.

Charged students are put on trial, where the odds are stacked against them and the chances of an acquittal are slim.

I’ve never been JAMed, so I set out to hear the stories of those who have been through system for both minor and major offenses. This is not an exhaustive report, rather a glimpse into the world of jams from those most affected by it: the students. Some of the names of those interviewed have been changed to maintain their anonymity.

The JAMS system is composed of three different bodies, all w ith specialized tasks and varying degrees of sentencing. The firstgtier is Mediation.

According to the jams Web site, mediation “provides an alternate forum for the resolution of conflict.” Mediators are recruited from the student body, staff and faculty. They’re used to resolve disciplinary disputes of a minor nature.

Most folks are fam iliar with the Judicial Affairs portion. There are two kinds of judicial procedures at AU. First, there is a hearing process. This is pret­ ty simple: the student goes to a hearing w ith jams Director Katsura Kurita Beltz. The student gives his or her story and Beltz determines the punish­ ment.

When this happens, the student, most likely, w ill end up in Heads Up, the mandatory class for those caught drinking or taking illegal substances.

The more dangerous option is a trial, where the student goes before the Conduct Council. In trial, students can lose their scholarship or housing or be expelled from the University, jam s can convict with a “reasonable preponderance of guilt," which

BITCH*

• continued from page 5 affect anyone or change any­ thing, but reexamine the way you and your friends use it. Are they using it to celebrate a word that connotes solidarity over derision, or are they using it to silence someone, putting one in a subordinate position? W ill the word “bitch” as an insult seem silly and obsolete thirty years from now? Young said there is no way to tell. “I wouldn’t be holding my breath to see the change, but I also wouldn’t count it out; language can be reclaimed and reha­ bilitated.”

W ith its development uncertain, deconstructing “bitch” is an important literary exercise. Examining words and the assumptions behind their meanings gives one greater insight into how a seemingly in ­ nocuous word can imbed itself into a societal con­ ception. Language is not the sole creator of oppres­ sion, but its significance should not be forgotten. ■

Bobby Allyn, 20, died Saturday morning from unbearable isolation in his socially constructed box in Washington, D.C.

march 2008

typically translates to 50 percent certainty.

Laura Taylor is a model student—on scholar­ ship, distinguished through community service, activism and academic achievement. Yet, the AU junior is facing pending jams charges. The reason?

Standing next to the Border Patrol table at the AU Career Fair.

Last fall, Taylor and a friend stood next to the patrol representatives with a sign detailing human rights abuses committed by the Border Patrol.

When Public Safety complained she was “imped­ ing free speech,” Taylor replied she too had a right to speak and that she was only standing next to the table. After nearly two hours of deliberation.

I WAS JAMMED

by Andrew Dobbyn

Public Safety told her to move ten feet away. She complied; the ordeal presumably ended. Several weeks later, Taylor and her friend received a jams notice for “disobeying public safety.” Her hearing with Beltz is pending. When Laura called to com­ plain, Beltz said that Laura did not have constitu­ tional rights on campus; the chilling reality of a private institution—constitutional exemption.

My most common encounters were w ith stu­ dents caught drinking. The dry campus rule has dogged many AU students.

Jason Farthing was charged with drinking in the dorms and disrespecting an RA. He didn’t h it him, he said, but it ’s an offense merely to be surly to an RA. Jason was able to beat the disrespect charge.

become a society bereft social responsibility and civic duty.

Despite all this, with all the talk from politi­ cians, especially on the right, you would think man-woman marriage was the cure-all for soci­ ety’s ills. British Prime Minister Margaret Thatch­ er, hero of the conservative right, encapsulated the modem marriage ethos when she said;

• continued from last page

of

“There is no such thing as soci­ ety. There are individual men and women, and there are families.”

The attitude of every person for themselves, and for their families, leaves us all behav­

but not the charge for alcohol.

“I admitted to drinking, though 1 never apolo­ gized. I’m too hard headed for that,” he said, add­ ing that the system’s response was overblown and arbitrary.

"I had a class during Heads Up, so I was forced to do work independently, which was a lot more than anyone else,” Farthing said. “Plus, there was no acknowledgement of completion. I never knew when I was done.”

Reid Rosenberg was also caught drinking. Un­ like Farthing, he attended the Heads Up classes.

“No one took it seriously, including the teacher,” he said.

It’s really more a matter of whether you think it can be reformed or scrapped altogether. I’d say a good scraping is in or­ der. But realistically, the administration should look into seriously revamping the system; the current process is unfairly arbitrary and simply unreasonable.

I

Everyone has a favorite jams story, the one told by a roommate, a friend, or per­ haps yourself The number of students who have passed through the jam s sys­ tem is innumerable. But after a while the tales begin to sound the same. There are outliers like Taylor who are railroaded.

More often, though, it is just kids who forget to lock their doors when they’re drinking. It’s a minor detour, but an inef­ fective and annoying one. Few have any­ thing good to say about ja m s . Probably fewer have sworn off drugs and alcohol due a couple of Satur­ day morning lectures and administrative threats.

Andrew Dobbyn is looking for an attractive student who AU creates institutions like jam s to protect the has a sharp wit and a real knack for the jams process. student body, from themselves and each other. But E-mail your pics to him. a system that is profoundly unreasonable protects neither. While anarchy on campus isn’t probable for the near future, American should reconsider whether the judicial system in place is serving the students it purports to protect. If not—and that seems likely—perhaps a change is in order.

■ ing as if old Maggie had it right. However, we mustn’t allow ourselves to fall into the mindtrap manufactured by consumer society. We can neither treat each other as consumer goods, nor our relationships as means of selfish fulfillment. We must not, above all, allow our­ selves to become robots working only for our­ selves, believing what we are told by our drab consumer culture of compliance; keeping our heads down and mouths shut just to survive.

Andy Tarrant was with you last night in the Daven­ port. You had piercing green eyes, brown hair, and a red sweater on. Please send him your a /s /l.

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National Conference on Organized Resistance American University â&#x20AC;˘ Washington, DC â&#x20AC;˘ March 7-9,2008