human rights

Challenging the Prison-Industrial Complex: Activism, Arts, and Educational Alternatives

gwen — Wed, 27 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

As a feminist concerned with social justice, in the past year or so I’ve become convinced that dismantling the prison-industrial complex should be a top priority amongst feminists.

This anthology, Challenging the Prison-Industrial Complex, edited by Stephen John Hartnett, argues as much, stressing that this very goal “should be at the head of a new human rights agenda for the twenty-first century.” In making this argument, the anthology is comprised of two sections of essays: “Diagnosing the Crisis” and “Practical Solutions, Visionary Alternatives.” The anthology further incorporates artwork and poetry by those who know the dehumanization and injustice of the system firsthand – those incarcerated – in an attempt to “remind readers that the prison-industrial complex does not house monsters but humans.”

The first section addresses how the United States of America has become a “punishing democracy.” That is, a democracy that spends more on prisons than on public education and spends more on punishment than on rehabilitation. In “Diagnosing the Crisis,” the authors note how we became a country with countless prisons and a swelling prison population. Several authors cite the “war on drugs” as a historical policy shift, one which paved the way for zero-tolerance policies which heavily affect – and actually target – communities comprised of poor and working class people of color.

Other essays in this section address how the defunding of public education and social programs works to benefit the prison-industrial complex. I especially appreciated Rose Braz’s and Myesha Williams’ essay “Diagnosing the Schools-to-Prisons Pipeline: Maximum Security, Minimum Learning,” which clarifies how the term high school “dropout” is misleading. They suggest replacing it with “pushout” – a term that more accurately conveys how the current public education system (due to issues of defunding and racism) betrays students of color from at-risk communities and practically ensures their entry into the criminal justice system.

The second half of Challenging the Prison-Industrial Complex offers hope and ideas for change through activism and the arts. Essays underscore the need for educational opportunities in prisons, as university professors take it upon themselves to offer college-level courses, GED preparation courses, and college entry exam courses to inmates. Several essays also demonstrate the empowering effects of offering creative workshops and classes to inmates.

These essays detail the hard work, tribulations, and results of providing playwriting workshops in prisons as well as enlisting inmates to stage Shakespearean plays. Such activism provides opportunities for inmates to reclaim their humanity and their voices, as well as provides communities a glimpse into the prison-industrial complex and the people caught up in the system.

The inmates’ artwork and poetry are powerful additions to this anthology. As with any academic text related to social justice, there is the possibility of elevating so-called experts’ thoughts and voices on an issue while simultaneously silencing or absenting the voices of the very people affected the most. Challenging the Prison-Industrial Complex seeks to create a balance between the two, in which voices of those both inside and outside the system work in tandem to convey a greater realization of what is happening in our schools, in our communities, and in our prisons.

Ultimately, the conversation surrounding dismantling the prison-industrial complex needs to be happening outside the walls of academia. This is an issue that relates to racism, classism, immigration reform, youth, budget spending, the militarization of our police forces, racist and inaccurate media coverage, the privatization of prisons, physical as well as sexual violence within our prisons, and the disenfranchisement of entire communities across the country – just to name a few. Feminists should be taking an active role in this fight. Abolishing the prison-industrial complex should be routinely discussed and debated on feminist blogs and in feminist publications alongside our efforts to end sexual violence and our fight for reproductive rights.

Challenging the Prison-Industrial Complex provides a framework for this discussion as well as steps to dismantle the system. We should all heed the authors’ warnings and advice and work together to reimagine a new democracy.

Written by: Kristen Lambert, April 27th 2011

Un/common Cultures: Racism and the Rearticulation of Cultural Difference

annette — Tue, 12 Oct 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Kamala Visweswaran

Duke University Press

In a book about race, class and cultural differences, the author argues that a global common culture focused on human rights may be emerging. Proving an excellent example of the gulf between academics and activists, research and experience, the book’s reader strains through reams of multi-syllable words, only to confront a mass of contradictions and confusions, statements unsupported by facts or logic, and conclusions that are unfair or just plain wrong.

The author analyzes race and caste and claims that we are reminded daily that we live in a post-racial world. That’s not the world I live in. The election of President Obama has increased, not decreased, expressions of racism. The author claims violence against women is invisible in the United States. It’s everywhere I look. She compares race, caste and class and questions whether race is biological, social, or even exists as science proves.

Her critique of what she calls feminist universalism focuses on refugee/asylum law. But she fails to acknowledge that in a patriarchal state no law, no matter how well written or intended, will remain untainted. She also fails to take into account the ever present tension for activist lawyers–making a political point or representing your client. The client always comes first.

While true that human rights standards are often not applied to the United States, especially under the criminal administration of George Bush, much has changed since that time. Two cases about family violence are at the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (Gonzales v. U.S. and Dombrowski v. U.S.) and four countries have now protected American women from the failures of the United States under the Hague Convention. Hillary Clinton recently announced that the U.S. will hold itself to the same standards it holds other countries in its annual Trafficking in Persons report. This is a major and important shift in policy.

When talking about Gender Based Violence (GBV), the author misses the fundamental analysis of GBV as about power and control. She says, “It is thus important to understand domestic violence as part of the structural violence wrought by liberalization and structural adjustment policies.” Domestic violence is no more caused by structural adjustment policies than it is caused by poverty or unemployment, alcoholism or anger. The fundamental cause, known for decades, is imbalance of power-also the backbone of structural adjustment policies. They both spring from the same well–abuse of power–the operating system of patriarchy.

Repeatedly the author fails to acknowledge the shoulders upon which she stands. She claims that feminists don’t understand that GBV is about state policy as much as about culture. On the contrary, the history of the battered women’s movement shows that it originally focused on the failure of state policy by suing the police for not enforcing the law, forcing prosecutors to charge abusers, and changing laws to hold the government accountable. T-shirt politics confirms how aware feminists are that domestic violence is intertwined with world peace—If you can’t have peace in the home, how can you have peace in the world?

Visweswaran wonders what it would mean to speak of a culture of violence against women in the United States and to understand domestic violence in the United States as a human rights issue. Advocates working in the battered women’s movement have spoken of it and understood it for decades.

The last chapter in Un/common Cultures contradicts earlier ones by showing that there is, in fact, a growing global human rights movement. But she fails to do her homework and thinks that university students urging divestment in countries that violate human rights is a new tactic. That was a common practice against apartheid in South Africa in the 1970s. What’s new is technology that tells the world in minutes if a coup or revolution is occurring, so that actions can be supported from half a globe away. Her final conclusion seems a simple truism about social movements and left this reader wondering why she slogged through 225 pages for that.

Written by: Dianne Post, October 11th 2010

Storm

beth — Sat, 25 Sep 2010 16:00:00 +0000

Directed by Hans-Christian Schmid

Film Movement

Winner of the Amnesty International Film Prize at the Berlin Film Festival in 2009, Storm is the story of prosecutor Hannah Maynard’s (Kerry Fox) and key witness Mira Arendt’s (Anamaria Marinca) struggle to obtain justice through the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia in the Hague. This docudrama directed by Hans-Christian Schmid derives from the real life story of international criminal prosecutor Hildegard Uertz. Uertz is quite famous for her dedication to international justice and for conducting the first international lawsuit in which rape was accepted as a war crime.

It is no stretch of the imagination to believe that Storm was largely inspired by true events. Unlike most other court room dramas which show justice swiftly served, Storm is more interested in showing the long arduous process behind all court cases. The film introduces viewers to a wide range of problems plaguing the Hague court: funding, lack of resources, and security to name a few. While the film in opening viewers’ eyes to a huge range of issues surrounding the court is extremely thought provoking, it also seems to weigh the movie down. Instead of an in-depth look at one problem or aspect of the court, viewers are instead asked to be satisfied with a wide sampling of conflicts. While in some ways this makes Storm refreshingly unique, it also places viewers at a distance; we don’t know enough about any one problem to feel properly invested in the characters or the story.

The film is brilliantly acted by leads Fox and Marinca. Filmgoers may recognize Fox from Jane Campion’s 2009 John Keats biopic Bright Star and Marinca from her unforgettable performance in the groundbreaking 2007 Romanian film 4 months 3 Weeks 2 Days.

Reflecting on the film, I can’t help but think that Storm would have made a brilliant mini-series. Without the time constraints of an hour and forty three minute film, Storm could have taken the time necessary to explore properly all the complex and diversified problems that the film so fascinatingly introduces. With a mini-series akin to The Wire, Storm, rather than simply calling attention to the many intricate issues surrounding the International Criminal Court could adequately explore the interconnected complexities that plague justice systems all over the world.

Written by: Colleen S. Kenny, September 25th 2010

The Blessing Next to the Wound: A Story of Art, Activism, and Transformation

admin — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Hector Aristizabal, Diane Lefer

Lantern Books

As a survivor of government sanctioned torture in Colombia, Hector Aristizabal was left with unsettled anger and fear. His wariness towards both his country and his future there worsens when one of his brothers is murdered by paramilitary soldiers. Aristizabal is eventually able to cast aside his bitterness, and find ways to aid others in their struggles by holding workshops for prisoners and victims of violence in the United States. While the dust jacket of The Blessing Next to the Wound gives the impression that it is a memoir of surviving both torture and a corrupt government, the book's focus is actually splintered. It tells many stories connected through Aristzabal’s drive to aid others set both before and after his imprisonment and torture for alleged political ties.

The Blessing Next to the Wound begins with Aristizabal aiding his pregnant girlfriend and other young women seeking an illegal abortion. While Aristizabal boastfully lists the many women he seduced throughout his life, he also offers sympathy for the plight women face in a country with limited birth control resources. This later motivates him to undergo a vasectomy following the birth of his own two children, admitting that while he may not always be faithful to his wife, he will never impregnate another woman. While Aristizabal shows himself to grow, his treatment of women is never shown to be fully resolved. As a feminist, I fruitlessly waited for this to be given some resolution during the course of the book.

Each chapter tells a different vignette from Aristizabal’s rich life experience. While this approach causes the book to lack a clear focus, and often a sense of chronology, the bits and pieces he shares from his life are nonetheless captivating and often moving. During the course of the memoir Aristizabal chronicles the hardships faced by his homosexual brother who eventually dies of AIDS, the effect of the cocaine industry on Colombia, the many human rights violations that exist in the United States, and how his theater-based therapy work aids others in places of crisis in their lives. Now and then Aristizabal will make a connection between the chapter’s experience and his time spent imprisoned and tortured; these connections serve to lessen the fragmented feel of the work.

Despite its lack of focus, The Blessing Next to the Wound offers a moving portrayal of finding inspiration and direction after surviving torture.

Written by: Adrienne Urbanski, August 17th 2010

Forgetting Children Born of War: Setting the Human Rights Agenda in Bosnia and Beyond

admin — Sun, 01 Aug 2010 16:02:00 +0000

By R. Charli Carpenter

Columbia University Press

In Forgetting Children Born of War, R. Charli Carpenter explores a perplexing question: Why has the human rights community ignored a critically vulnerable population, the children born to women who were raped during war? These children are subject to infanticide, neglect, abuse, and abandonment—both within their own families and within the societies into which they are born. Since the human rights community has a mandate to protect the most vulnerable citizens of society—which usually includes children, mothers, and pregnant women—why are they violating their own principles?

Through an exhaustive study of media, NGO reports, and interviews, Carpenter comes to understand that children born of war have been forgotten and neglected because human rights advocates focus instead on the problem of ethnic cleansing and genocide, as well as the women who have been subjected to sexual violence. Focusing on the children born of rape is understood as a conflict of interest. War rape is talked about and viewed “through lenses of nationalism, feminism, and humanitarianism rather than through a children’s rights frame.” Rape is a crime and the woman who experiences war rape is a victim; forced pregnancy and rape are weapons of ethnic cleansing. This is how the issue is dealt with in the context of the human rights agenda. Thus, the child conceived through rape is understood as a product of violence, as a “tool of genocide,” rather than as a human being in need of special protection.

Human rights advocates who initially considered the issue eventually decided to allow the local community to deal with these children, rather than offer the benefits, resources, and organizational manpower of the global human rights network. Local communities have responded in a variety of ways but none of the efforts made on behalf of these children are sufficient.

Carpenter’s book sheds light not just on the problem of children who have been conceived through rape during a time of war—tens of thousands of children across the globe—but also the equally complex problem of how human rights issues get constructed and adopted within the community, ultimately leading to how needs are addressed or ignored. Her book is a critical call for the need to re-examine our understanding of human rights and how those needs are addressed through the human rights network.

Written by: Jessica Powers, August 1st 2010

Infectious Ideas: U.S. Political Responses to the AIDS Crisis

admin — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Jennifer Brier

The University of North Carolina Press

From the early appearance of AIDS as deviant in conservative America in the early 1980s to a full blown global battle in the 2000s, Infectious Ideas charts the activism behind the disease and how it never once wasn’t a political problem. What readers will learn with this book is that knowledge of the disease evolved alongside activist work. The origin, treatment, and likely victims of AIDS were all unknown in the early ‘80s when gay men and Haitian immigrants began to contract HIV. As a result societal scapegoating occurred and the government all but ignored the problem. Despite this, Brier shows how gay men unified to change habits, start dialogues about safe sex, and change public health policy.

With little or no experience in the health field, many early activist groups looked to the gay liberation movement of the 1970s for inspiration. As a result, racial and class discrepancies appeared as activist researchers began to realize that the highest at-risk groups were poor men of color who didn’t necessarily identify with the gay and lesbian community. San Fransisco activists worked to overcome what Brier calls “imperialism of expertise” by changing their campaigns to appeal to Latino and Black communities. Altering their way of thinking of how AIDS affects people proved vital for the moment and future efforts of global activists.

While modifying their approaches, American activists were also fighting another battle. Until the late 1980s they were essentially doing what the federal government should have been doing: informing people, promoting healthy prevention habits and working towards a treatment. However, ideological differences with the Reagan administration kept them from gaining governmental support. Instead of listening to activists with four years experience fighting the disease, the government was persuaded by internal politicians who didn’t condone condoms but rather (shockingly) chastity, fidelity and sex within marriage.

Brier positively notes that the lack of governmental support allowed for other groups to grow in more innovative arenas. She credits the Ford Foundation with raising awareness that AIDS was not simply a disease affecting gay and immigrants populations, but one that affected impoverished women in developing countries. During the late 1980s and early 1990s, the Ford Foundation focused on efforts in Brazil, Haiti, Thailand and Africa. They maintained a clear mission to “make woman’s rights human rights”. Three of the four countries that received the most funding saw significant drops in the number of new cases of AIDS.

The foundation's work strengthened the relationship between the Northern, developed world and the Southern, impoverished one. It also showed that attention to women’s rights, fighting poverty, and facing health issues overall is the most effective approach to prevent the spread of AIDS. As research continued to find medication to treat the disease, activists in the United States began to fight large pharmaceutical companies for affordable access to treatment, most notably through the work of ACT UP. Eventually disbanding due to internal problems, the group had five short but potent years which completely changed the U.S. response to drug testing and availability of medication.

Brier provides a unique account of the initial social response to AIDS in the 1980s and how it often preceded any political answers—a trend that continued into the early 1990s and today. Her book shows how we have arrived to where we are today in the fight against AIDS and what we can learn from the battles of the past.

Written by: Sara Custer, February 9th 2010

Water First: Reaching the Millennium Development Goals

admin — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 23:25:00 +0000

Directed by Amy Hart

Bullfrog Films

Four thousand children die every day as a result of the lack of access to clean water. Water First opens with this unbelievable figure, along with a montage of poverty-stricken African children. Luckily, the film moves beyond voyeuristic sentimentalism and goes on to make the case that access to clean water should be recognized as one of the most important global issues.

The country of Malawi is used as a case study, along with the nonprofit organization Fresh Water Malawi, run by retired firefighter Charles Banda. Fresh Water Malawi drills wells for communities throughout Malawi, usually with little support from the government or outside donors. Banda argues that the success of the eight official United Nations Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) is dependent on whether or not people have access to clean water. The MDGs are goals to reduce poverty that the UN members adopted in the year 2000, with the target of having made progress toward them by 2015. The goals include eradicating extreme poverty and hunger, promoting gender equality, and achieving universal primary education.

The film successfully argues that water is intimately tied to all of these goals. For example, women and girls are the ones who bear the burden of fetching water, oftentimes miles away from their homes, and usually from unclean sources. Girls often drop out of school once they hit puberty because of lack of sanitation. Drinking water from unprotected sources causes cholera, malaria, dysentery and other diseases, which are especially devastating to young children and women who have recently given birth.

Water First lets the people of Malawi speak for themselves as viewers are invited to watch the daily struggle of life without access to clean water. The viewer can choose to watch a twenty-eight minute or a forty-five minute version of the film, which is helpful for teachers who want to screen Water First during class. Overall, the film is informative and cogently makes the case that water is a fundamentally important issue in advancing human rights and community development in impoverished countries around the world.

Written by: Liz Simmons, March 4th 2009

Gaining Ground: A Tool for Advancing Reproductive Rights Law Reform

admin — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 18:44:00 +0000

Centre for Reproductive Rights

Any act, implicit or implied, that limits or refuses a woman reproductive self-determination is a violation of her human rights. Countries have begun to move forward on this issue via the reformation of existing laws and the implementation of new ones. While progress appears to be afoot, many women remain without access to a safe pregnancy and childbirth, the right to a legal abortion, the right to use birth control and the right to equal partnership within a marriage. The Centre for Reproductive Rights, however, does not condemn countries in their publication, Gaining Ground: A Tool for Advancing Reproductive Rights Law Reform. Instead, they focus on achievements and identify what can be done to ensure future successes.

The book examines nine areas in reproductive rights law from a human rights framework and gives nods to countries that have taken measures to prevent abuse towards women and grant them access to proper healthcare. It is acknowledged, however, that legal reform alone, even when accompanied with severe punishment, will not sufficiently grant women universal access to self-determination. Deep-rooted religious and social beliefs on the status of women can hinder progress substantially. This is exemplified through Mali, where, despite government initiatives to eradicate female genital mutilation, has a population in which 80% of circumcised women believe the practice should continue. Reproductive rights reform then, is not only about legal advocacy. It is a complex issue that needs to be tackled alongside sexist ideals. By focusing on positive achievements rather than condemning countries that have been lax on granting women reproductive rights, Gaining Ground creates a platform for open discussion and makes explicit the challenges some women face.

Founded in 1992, The Centre for Reproductive Rights remains true to their vision to restore “human dignity, self-determination, and equality” to all women with this book. Gaining Grou_nd is honest, compelling and clearly lays out the foundation for establishing reproductive rights reform in all nations. While _Gaining Ground might not be your ideal beach read, it is definitely worth looking into this summer.

Written by: Cheryl Santa Maria, July 5th 2007

Maquilapolis: City of Factories

admin — Tue, 03 Jul 2007 18:22:00 +0000

Directed by Vicki Funari, Sergio de la Torre

California Newsreel

Who made that pen you’re using? Who put your television together? Who sewed your pants? And what does any of this have to do with women in Mexico? Well, thanks to the initiation of NAFTA in 1994, big US corporations can make maximum profit off of the cheap labor of women in other countries. In the brand new documentary Maquilapolis, two female maquiladora workers document their lives and struggles as factory workers in Tijuana, and show why and how women are exploited for their cheap labor in the border towns of Mexico.

Following the daily routines of Carmen and Lourdes, the film depicts every feature of their lives. From having to pick their steps carefully as they walk through their shanty towns - because life-threatening, shoddy electricity zaps and sizzles near polluted water, to sending a son to buy a five gallon jug of water that costs the same price that these women are paid at the maquiladoras for two hours of work - the film doesn’t leave out one aspect of these women’s personal lives. The film, however, never asks for the viewer’s pity. Just as you think it’s going to turn into a commiseration about the harsh life realities of the marginalized Other, Maquilapolis weaves in another narrative—that of these women’s political life.

Carmen and Lourdes are both aware of how their bosses treat them. Viewed as ignorant women who do not understand what human rights are, the patrons of the maquiladoras overwork the women, underpay them and provide unsafe working conditions for the young female workers. Carmen’s political battle with her former bosses is over denied severance pay. When the company decided to move their operations to Indonesia, because of cheaper female labor overseas, all of the women working for the company in Tijuana were fired without being given any severance pay. Carmen understands that “in globalization, woman worker is like a commodity,” but that due to the multiple injustices slapped upon her by the hands of big corporations, she “can’t stay quiet anymore.” With these powerful words Carmen organizes her fellow workers. After a large legal battle the women are finally paid the thousands of dollars that was owed to them.

Lourdes also understands how, through globalization, women are “just objects, objects of labor.” Her battle, however, is one about the aftermath of a factory closing. One corporation that left Tijuana did not take any of the necessary precautions with demolishing their factory, so all of the metal and factory bi-products were left to rot and corrode. This abandoned factory sits on a hill above the maquiladora workers’ neighborhood. All of the chemicals from the corroded building, as well as those from the factories that are still functioning near by, run off into a creek that flows through the workers’ neighborhood. The entire shantytown is polluted with harmful chemicals, and the effects of these pollutants can be seen on the workers’ bodies in the form of the rashes and spots. Lourdes’ battle against the government and corporations to clean up its waste is a long battle that has yet to be fully won. But the incessant Lourdes and the environmental group that she organized have made small victories in this overwhelming war.

Maquilapolis is a film that does not attempt to create any pity. While it does show the horrific living situations that female maquiladora workers have to negotiate along with their physically stressful and low-wage jobs, it is also a film of angst, rebellion and unrelenting political action. Maquilapolis is both a call to action and an eye-opener for anyone who has never considered what, exactly, goes in to making their pens, their television, their clothes and all of the cheap, plastic crap that no one really needs. In a world where globalization is seen by the privileged as a blessing, Maquilapolis exposes how globalization functions in the lives of marginalized women.

Written by: Chelsey Clammer, July 3rd 2007

The Daughters of Juarez: A True Story of Serial Murder South of the Border

admin — Tue, 17 Apr 2007 00:40:00 +0000

By Teresa Rodriguez, Diana Montané

Atria Books

I have always assumed that every feminist knows about the murders in Juarez, Mexico. I have been obsessed with the murders and available news reports (or lack there of) for the past couple of years. So when I saw that the first non-fiction book to be published about the Juarez femicide was coming out, I was incredibly excited to see that these events would finally be discussed in an accessible format.

As I started reading the book, I couldn't put it down. I carried it with me everywhere, as these women's stories filled my head and my heart. The first couple of chapters were incredibly hard to get through. In fact, I had to take frequent crying breaks in order to read the first fifty pages. So when I started obsessively talking about this book to everyone I know, I was disappointed and dismayed to encounter the common response of "What murders in Juarez?"

And this is why The Daughters of Juarez is the most necessary and important book to come out this spring. For the past 12 years, over 400 women have gone missing in the desert of Juarez. From what is left of their desiccated bodies, medical examiners have found evidence of brutal rapes and torture of these young women. In the beginning of the crimes, most of the victims were young, poor maquiladora workers abducted on their way to or from work. As the crimes progressed and police failed to find the killer(s), more women were (and are) abducted and their bones have turned up in the desert.

This book is important for several reasons. First, these women's stories must be told in order for them to be remembered. The pervasive misogyny of these femicides must be told, because these crimes are happening in every part of the world, just under a different guise. Second, it is painfully relevant how the media has failed to pick up on this story. 400 women raped and brutally murdered, and only a few radical media sources have written a scarce number of reports about them. How can that be? What is so wrong with our society that no one cares if 400 women in one city are brutally raped and killed in less than a decade?

Finally, if these stories are not going to be covered in the mainstream media, then the mere existence of this book is amazing. The women of Juarez's stories are now accessible to anyone who happens to peruse the politics or true crime section of any bookstore. Rodriguez and Montané's combined account of this femicide is emotionally hard to get through, but their relentless dedication to bring justice to the murdered women and their families is truly inspiring, and is an amazing call to action.

Written by: Chelsey Clammer, April 16th 2007