Friday, October 13, 2006

Damn violence! ya basta!

I wrote this because I was doing some reading on Stan Tookie Williams and got really sad and cryed about the messed up nature of our prison justice system and all the violence in the world! Damn violence! ya basta!

Oakland’s Nonviolent Future
By Jerlina Love

The leaves have begun to fall across the East Bay, California, marking the end of Oakland’s first summer of nonviolence. Started by the Ella Baker Center for Human Rights with a series of candlelight vigils held throughout the Bay Area in June, community members prayed for a summer in Oakland without violence and with the presence of constructive change. This violence, which erupts as homicides and more often as fistfights on schoolyards and street corners, is killing Oakland residents both physically and spiritually.
I attended one of these Vigils on 61st and San Pablo to demonstrate my deep concern with the violence in Oakland. As we discussed our vision of a nonviolent Oakland, I silently doubted that nonviolence in Oakland was possible. It was not until I started thinking about Oakland continuing on its path of violence when I realized that nonviolence is fundamentally possible and absolutely necessary in my hometown. I also realized how my life could contribute to this change.
In order to clearly understand both the necessity and possibility of nonviolence, I first had to think about the situation currently facing Oakland and the prognosis of what this might look like if it continues. Remember how you felt the morning of September 12th, 2001? In some parts of Oakland, every day feels like that morbid day. My earliest memories as a child living in East Oakland, are of the day after a drive-by in front of my family’s apartment. The fear, confusion, denial and outrage were hardly different than what the country felt the day after 9-11. The difference in my community was that an outside force did not perpetuate the violence; it was perpetuated by and against residents of the same neighborhood
If the violence and fear continue on their course without nonviolent intervention, Oakland’s violent crime rate will increase, more youth will be sent to suffer in the California prison system, and more people will live lives burdened by the psycho-spiritual after affects of violence. In the face of such a prognosis, it becomes alarmingly clear that we have to abandon our old model of living in fear and we must transform it into courage, while we transform violence into nonviolence, if we want to rebuild Oakland.
This transformation of violence into nonviolence is deeply connected with an internal transformation within the lives of Oakland residents, which is part of the journey to Oakland’s nonviolent future. This internal change was demonstrated in the life of Stan Tookie Williams, a former resident of San Quentin Prison and a Nobel Peace Prize nominee. Williams lived a life inundated by violence. Williams co-founded the Crips, a violent youth gang and after killing three people Williams was sent to prison, where he continued to live a life encapsulated by violence. Then in 1993, while in solitary confinement, Williams experienced an inner transformation.
Williams told Mother Jones magazine in March/April 2001, “I unchained my mind, and I did so through prayers and extensive study. I had to seriously question whether I was a human or a beast. In choosing not to be a beast, I discovered my humanity. I became autodidactic, self-educated -- a critical thinker.” It was then that Williams began to work for nonviolence. This change included developing a new sense of respect for human life, including his own. It also included taking courageous actions to stop violence and encourage community building, represented by his children’s books about nonviolence where he advocated for youth to courageously reject gang life and the use of violence.
For Williams, this internal transformation was at the core of his nonviolent work. For Williams to speak about ending violence, he had to end it in his heart. As Oakland hyphy artist Ise Lyfe says, “In order to speak about freedom you have to be freedom,” and in order to speak about nonviolence Williams was nonviolent in mind and action. Even while living in a prison, the most violent of environments, Williams was able to make this transformation, which gives hope to Oakland’s residents who seek change.
Like Williams, we daughters and sons of Oakland must transform the violence in our hearts to nonviolence. Nonviolence is the development of relationships, from intra-personal to societal, that are grounded in respect. Nonviolence is a rough translation of “ahimsa,” which means the lack of intention to harm and the respect for all life. As activists in the civil rights movement demonstrated, it takes immense courage to hold onto nonviolence in moments of adversity, but it is also these moments when the courageous adherence to the respect for all life is the most powerful. When someone spreads rumors about us, steps on our tennis shoes, or hits us, the nonviolent response is to maintain our respect for the other person’s humanity while taking courageous and compassionate action against the harm done. This might start with direct nonviolent communication. This takes transforming the heat of rage into disciplined construction rather than letting it explode into uncontrolled destruction.
Living our lives nonviolently and transforming Oakland not only includes collective internal transformation, it also involves challenging both direct and structural violence. Direct violence is exemplified by fistfights or war, whereas structural violence is exemplified by poverty or hunger and is the result of exploitive and unjust social, political and economic systems . Challenging these forms of violence may include spreading community awareness about an issue and organizing to participate in nonviolent direct action. The final aspect of contributing to a nonviolent Oakland is our participation in constructive programs such as community gardens, independent media and educational programs. By transforming our self-loathing to self-respect, by challenging direct and structural violence, and by helping to build programs that model the peace building that we would like to see, we are making the future of a nonviolent Oakland our present reality.
The cops don’t need to stop abusing people, the gangs don’t need to reconcile their conflicts, and spouses do not need to stop abusing each other before we begin to develop nonviolence in Oakland. What always comes first in a nonviolent movement are people’s decisions to take individual responsibility in making change happen. These decisions often indicate inner transformations in the people who become involved. The action taken once these decisions are made then fuel that inner transformation and social transformation forward. In this way, nonviolence works like violence: it starts inside of our individual lives and it escalates, affecting our relationships with our communities and with society as a whole. I invite you to join us at any step along the way, in this social, spiritual and psychological experiment with respect and transformation and see how these forces spiral out from your own life and into the streets of Oakland. May the falling leaves remind you that this experiment with nonviolence in Oakland has already begun.


Jerlina Love is a graduate student in African Diaspora Studies at UC Berkeley, where she studies principled nonviolence. This article is in memory of Carlos Aceituno, a peace and cultural activist who passed away September 27, 2006.

Resources:

Silence the Violence, Ella Baker Center:
http:// ellabakercenter.org/

Jerlina’s Blog on Spirituality, Nonviolence and Art in the Bay Area:
http://i-mlove.blogspot.com/

The Metta Center for Nonviolence Education
http://www.mettacenter.org/

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