Marcus Henderson

Red Hoop drumming group brings sounds of life to SQ Pow Wow

January 6, 2020 by Marcus Henderson

Participants surrounding the Red Hoop drummers celebrated the unity of the human family

The Nevada Red Hoop drumming group brought the sounds of life to San Quentin’s Native American Group Annual Fall Pow Wow. The thumping sounds of traditional drumming filled the prison’s visiting room, blending with the scent of sage, circle dancing and chanting from the outside spiritual elders.

The pulsating drumbeats simulate the rhythm of a heartbeat, which represents the sign of life, be it from man or animal, according some Native traditions.

Heredia, Polanco, Sr. delivering the opening prayer at the ceremony

“The drum is alive — just as any human being is,” said Martin Montgomery, one of the Red Hoop drummers. “An animal gave its life for this drum – and the wood to produce the heartbeat sound.

“The drums and our traditional songs have the ability to change emotions and they have made their way to us today,” added Montgomery.

The Nov. 15, sacred event celebrated the unity of the human family and its connections through the heart.

The Red Hoop group consists of more than 20 drummers, but only three were able to make the trip, due to rescheduling of the ceremony. The group consisted of Montgomery, Ivan Julianto and Brandon Heredia, the son of the Native American Group’s chaplain.

The trio chanted each song energetically as they uniformly pounded the large drum. The more than 75 incarcerated participants and volunteers swayed and stepped dance throughout the event in ceremonial circles symbolizing the infinity of life.

The dancing and singing is part of the spiritual healing led by the sacred instrument.

Gregory “White Eagle” Coates and Straight Dancer regalia

“The elders and drummers coming in helps us learn more about our ways as a people,” said Dennis “Wolf” Gilbert, incarcerated participant. “They show us that we are not hated but loved and not forgotten.

“It keeps us on the Red Road (spiritual road.) I want to raise my grandson in our ways,” Gilbert added.

Montgomery can relate to this statement. His father was incarcerated in a Nevada prison.

“Your family needs you. And that’s spoken from a kid who grow up while his father was incarcerated,” said Montgomery. “My father shared a lot of stories about how the system changed him. He wanted to give us an alternative and he taught us the drums – learning our culture help save us,” added Montgomery.

Native American Adviser Hector Frank Heredia smudging the visiting room in preparation fo the ceremony

Montgomery credits his father for starting Red Hoops. The group name comes from his grandfather who found a horse, back in the day, with a red hoop around its eye. The horse used to do tricks such as: dancing and bowing.

The grandfather thought it was from a circus or something. So he began asking the people in the surrounding area whose horse it was. No one seem to claim it.

“Being here is like coming full circle,” said Montgomery. “It makes you feel grateful. What my father learned in prison he passed on to us, now I’m sharing it with these men.”

The drum is one of the major parts of Native life. The songs and drum rhythms are passed down through the grandparents or elders. Most of the Native drummers are versatile in Southern and Northern tribal drum rhythms. The drums are used for tribal marriages, prayers and calling people together.

After the opening purification ceremony, where the participants wipe themselves with the smoke from the burning sage, the guests mixed with the Native group to perform the ritual Grand Opening Dance.

Everyone left the visiting room; the men formed one line and women made another one. The two groups danced and stepped their way back into the room to create two circles around the drums.

“The women dance closer to the drums, because they are our hearts,” said Gregory “White Eagle” Coates, San Quentin resident and Sun Dancer. “The men are on the outer rings, because they are the protectors.”

Montgomery paused the drumming and ask some guests to come up and form two rows of seven people. He asked each person to make a rhythm with their bodies; some made sound with their mouths, snap fingers, clapped hands and beat sounds on their bodies.

Then Montgomery had everyone do his or her sound in unison creating an ensemble of music.

“We are all relatives. We all represent that rhythm of the heartbeat, and that was shown in the music we created together,” said Montgomery. “If we can see each other as human beings the world would be a better place.”

The spiritual ceremony ended with traditional food and strong loving words from visiting elder Lee Polanco, Sr. 81, who was a former San Quentin corrections officer and chaplain.

“I seen two of my sons go to prison, and that hurts as a parent. I buried a lot of people, so doing this prayer work is not a game for me,” said Polanco. “I come here because I love these guys, be it the men-in-blue or green.

“I will tell the guys in blue don’t ever give up – it’s never to late learn. I hope you get out and never come back,” he concluded.

Being more conscious to our readers in the New Year

January 2, 2020 by Marcus Henderson

Happy New Year! Yeah, another year down and a decade gone. For those who have been incarcerated since the 1980s and ’90s, we have officially moved into what we call the Buck Rogers dates (named after the late ’70s TV show). This term was coined to show how far off someone’s release date was back then, so good luck in this decade.

As times changes and new generations are born, languages, terminologies and definitions can also go through a metamorphosis. Now we are in a time of criminal justice reform, a time where self-identification for some people and organizations has also taken a shift.

It’s a time where using pronouns such as they/them for gender nonconforming (GNC) people has gained traction. In short, words have power; they can either build someone up or tear them down.

San Quentin News wants to put our readers on notice that we will start being conscious of not using the word inmate(s). We are not taking away this word as an option for our contributors or our journalists.

But, we are in the process of creating acceptable word options such as the incarcerated, incarcerated people, inside participants, etc. For those who have returned home, terms such as returning resident, formerly incarcerated person or system-impacted will be used.

We do understand the power of the media and word choices, where we are addressed as inmates, offenders or convicts. It’s about humanizing the incarcerated people; we are not monsters, our crimes or any other negative label.

None of these different word choices takes away having accountability for the harm that has been caused to victims/survivors or the community as a whole. This does not include the truly innocent of crimes, because we know these people exist as well.

Using words that generalize people and other negative epithets can create societal stigmas that can hinder rehabilitation or a successful reentry. This doesn’t help public safety.

I know and understand that some incarcerated people don’t care what they are called one way or the other. Everyone’s opinion is valid, but as a news agency we are aware of the debates going on regarding what incarcerated people should be called in the media, as well as how to address individuals.

Prison reform advocates and organizations and some government officials are adopting new guidelines to stay away from language such as felon, or ex-con, etc., to help remove barriers for returning residents. We who are incarcerated need to know that there are people fighting to show the rest of the world our humanity, especially those who have returned back to society. We applaud and support their efforts. In our role as journalists, we share in the efforts to also support and inform our readership in a healthy way for their human transformations—most of the times we get this right, and sometimes we can make mistakes.

But overall, we want the best for everyone, especially those who seek redemption in these dark places called prisons.

Changing what we call ourselves may take some time to have some psychological affect, but we must put forth our effort.

Well, when it comes to celebrating New Year’s Day, some people make resolutions. I guess I recommend focusing on choices and changes. One has the choice to change one’s life for the better or stay in the same place mentally, emotionally and even physically. The choice is yours.

So for you young people, who have just started doing your time or are involved in some questionable activities, take notice. When we were sentenced we were given what we called Buck Rogers dates. For your generation you have Terminator, the movie set in the 2040s. Understand this: that’s just 20 years from now.

If you think you can’t get or serve that type of time, just ask any OG, who has served two decades or more. It’s a reality.

Lastly, we as a news agency not using the word inmate(s) may seem trivial. But the alternative is supporting thing-ify-ing (objectifying) us as incarcerated people.

In self-help groups, we learn not to do the same thing. When you thing-ify (objectify) someone you take away their identity as a person who has feelings, emotions and families, where it’s easy to cause them harm. What about us? Don’t we have the ability to change or have remorse? Our are we not people?

Its just food for thought.

Once again, Happy New Year!

Advocates launch #MeTooBehindBars for those incarcerated

January 1, 2020 by Marcus Henderson

Crowd of participants bringing awareness to #MeTooBehindBars

Sexual violence and transphobia in prisons are still taboo topics of discussion, even in the midst of some prison reform efforts nationwide.

But a group of victims/survivors and advocates launched the #MeTooBehindBars campaign that aims to influence the #MeToo movement and to include the voices of those incarcerated who have or are suffering from sexual harassment or sexual abuse.

This new campaign has found its way to the steps of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) office in Sacramento. An Oct. 30 protest was held to raise the awareness of transgender, gender nonconforming (GNC) and queer people’s plight within the state prison system, according to the Young Women’s Freedom Center and California Coalition for Women Prisoners (CCWP) advocacy groups.

Nghia from Survived & Punished speaking at the event

Advocates arrived in front of the building in vans. The participants arranged themselves in a circle and laid out the words “Me Too” on the ground and lined them with flowers. Many of the speakers shared their stories of being sexually assaulted behind bars, as each spoke from the building steps.

“There is so much violence against trans women inside. The culture is to blame women for the violence,” said Attorney Jen Orthwein, who represents transgender women in California’s men prisons, to SQ News.

“Many of the women I’ve worked with are gone. There was Allie, who was sliced in her neck and placed in solitary confinement. Her cellmate was constantly harassing her, and she begged to be moved.

Sister Warriors advocate letting her voice be heard

“Another one of my clients was beaten by cellmates and correctional officers, then…a noose was left in her cell. She was denied surgery and committed suicide the next day,” added Orthwein.

In a call and response cry of “Me Too,” “behind bars” activists walked in a circle chanting and holding protest signs.

“I was harassed and sexually harassed because I was GNC,” said Stacy Rojas, who is formerly incarcerated and spoke at the rally. “People thought they could make me want to be a woman or show me that I am.

Participant holding up sign to free Kinzie Noordman

“From the very beginning of me stepping foot in jail and having them telling me to put on a dress—it’s all in the way they say it, the way they tell me to turn around and spread it. [They would] laugh at me. They would tell me that they would make me like it.

“There was so much sexual violence because of me being masculine presenting and being GNC,” Rojas added.

Rojas understands the importance of speaking out and bringing awareness to the #MeTooBehindBars movement.

“It’s not just my story, believe me. I have friends who would not speak out at first. They’re embarrassed and ashamed,” said Rojas. “Now they’re standing up next to me screaming it out. It’s not that we’re happy, but we’re not going to…keep secret(s) anymore. I want them [people in authority] to understand that sexual assault happens, period.

“[It] runs so deep—trans women are looked at in a f@#ked up way,” reflects Rojas. “Toxic patriarchal men look at them and are upset that they believe in their heads that they are men and can’t believe that they want to be a woman.

“They can’t understand what trans is at all,” said Rojas.

Young Women Freedom Center’s Amita Mota and Stacy Rojas at the event

Victims of sexual assault in prisons are encouraged to report incidents to their state’s correctional internal affairs department—this includes if someone has been threatened with sexual assault or has experienced retaliation for reporting an incident, according to PREA posters within U.S. prisons.

In 2003, the Prison Rape Elimination Act (PREA) was signed into law. The goal was to create a zero tolerance policy around rape in prison. To date, San Quentin, along with most state or federal prisons in the nation, has PREA posters on the walls in all areas of the institution.

The “Shine the Light on Sexual Abuse” posters provide telephone numbers and addresses for reporting incidents. The phone numbers accept collect calls from incarcerated people.

SQ News has received mixed responses about PREA’s effectiveness. Some people reported that it worked and others said they experienced some form of retaliation or no action was taken for their claims.

There have been various lawsuits filed against correctional departments nationwide, including CDCR. Also there are ongoing investigations into abuse claims by correctional departments, according to some court filing records.

Changing a culture of violence toward the LGBTQ community within prisons is one of the main priorities of the protestors.

“When you hear about sexual assault in the workplace, everyone is freaking out about it and saying that this has to stop. People are appalled while they are watching [it on] the news,” said Rojas. “But there’s thousands of people who can’t complain at all.

“You’re stuck in a place where nobody worries about you. There are thousands of people going through this and it’s kept a secret.”

Madeleine Gregory, a student at UC Berkeley, contributed to this article.

A governor's commutation gives Laverne Shoemaker a second chance

December 11, 2019 by Marcus Henderson

Laverne Shoemaker overcame what some prison reform activists call “a living death sentence.”

Shoemaker was serving life without the possibility of parole (LWOP) until her sentence was commuted by then-Gov. Jerry Brown. After 26 years, Laverne (Dej) DeJohnette Shoemaker walked free in June.

“I am a ‘DROP LWOP’ advocate. I will not ever stop advocating for LWOPs and lifers. LWOP is a ‘Death

by Incarceration sentence,’” said Shoemaker. “When you are given that sentence, what they are saying is, you are irrelevant, you’re irredeemable, you’re beyond redemption. And that’s just not true.

“Look at me. I have 19 arrests, 16 convictions, three prior prison terms and the fourth was the life crime of murder. Sure it took over 10 years, but I did change. Now I’m a taxpaying citizen. We are all capable of transformation,” she added.

Shoemaker did not sit on her heels when she walked free. She began working with the California Coalition For Women’s Prisoners (CCWP), where she was named the first Charisse Shumate Fellow.

The Shumate fellowship highlights the life and legacy of Shumate, who suffered from sickle-cell anemia. She died in prison. Her supporters say her death was due to negligence on the part of the California prison system. Shumate was one of the founding members of CCWP. She was a lead plaintiff in the 1995 lawsuit that challenged California’s women’s prisons health care system. She also helped start The Fire Inside, the organization’s newsletter.

“I was blessed to live with this woman as a roommate. I was fortunate enough to see her in her high highs and her low lows,” said Shoemaker in correspondence with SQ News. “I saw her in action and witnessed her determination to make a change. She was famous for saying ‘It’s not a me thing; it’s a we thing.”

Shoemaker was resigned to living out her life in prison. But she credits Shumate for being one of the inspirations who helped to educate her about the need to stand up for the rights of everyone inside.

“In the beginning I did what most did. I jumped right into the criminal elements inside. I got involved with the prison politics. I racked up many 115’s (disciplinary write-ups) and SHU (administrative segregation) terms,” said Shoemaker. “I had seen people change and grow. But I had two dilemmas: one, I didn’t think change was possible for someone like me, and two, I didn’t know ‘why’ I should change.”

Shoemaker’s change came when she started being honest with herself and addressing all her childhood traumas.

“I began to see a human with value and worth under all the tarnish,” said Shoemaker. “The LWOP was not a factor. In all actuality, receiving the LWOP sentence saved my life. The truth is I was a very dysfunctional, unstable substance abuser.

“I was very dangerous and an extremely violent individual. But after a few SHU terms I changed my thought process. I went from I don’t care if I live or die and I’m a piece of sh#*t anyway to…..It doesn’t really matter ‘where’ I die, in the free world or prison, I’m still going to die,” she continued.

What began to matter to Shoemaker was what type of person she was going to be and what her quality of life would be like.

“My motto became, ‘When shall I live if not now?’” she said. “I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d ever get out. So every group, program, workshop facilitating, curriculum I created was for me and my community. Not for anyone else.

“I definitely learned who I was and who I am today. I’ve grown and learned the impact that we have on our victims and communities,” said Shoemaker. “I learned that by taking a life I have committed the most serious crime of humanity.

“I’ve learned that changing my behavior is the only acceptable atonement. Living today and every day for your victims is not just words you tell the BPH (Board of Parole Hearings).

That is what you have to you live by,” she added.

Shoemaker shared her re-entry experiences and goals for her fellowship.

“What I see is that we (lifers) are impatient and want to hit the ground running. We think we have the formula that we know it all,” she said. “I get it—we have sat decades and planned what we wanna do. But the hard truth and the reality is this is a different world.

“I began to see a human with value and worth under all the tarnish,”

“We need to take it one day at a time. The adjustment period is tough. We are new to the free world. The technology alone is mind-blowing. Some days I feel like a refugee. I guess the hardest part of being out is missing being back inside.

“Most will read this and think I’m crazy. But it’s true while inside you spend all your time thinking about freedom, but when you’re out here you spend a considerable amount of time thinking about back inside,” she added.

Shoemaker knows and understands her responsibilities. She is in the process of creating a curriculum for the LWOPs.

“I will spend my last breath advocating for the LWOPs,” she said. “We are always left behind, overlooked, or at the bottom of every list—that is, if we even make the list at all.

“Yet we (LWOPs) are the pillars of the prison communities, we are the glue that holds the yards together.”

Her plans and goals for the fellowship are to honor her friend Shumate and not stop or back down.

“Charisse didn’t just com- plain or just file a grievance—no she went up against a system. And she got that system to listen. She made a difference,” she said. “She left some pretty big shoes to fill but I think collectively together we all can fill them. I promise to do her name justice!”

Reflecting on the Texas murder of an unarmed Black man

November 18, 2019 by Marcus Henderson

Amy Guyger, the White former Texas officer who killed unarmed Botham Jean, a Black man in his home, was found guilty of murder last month. Race normally wouldn’t or shouldn’t be an issue when it comes to a tragedy, but with the inequalities in the U.S. criminal justice system it will most likely be a part of the conversation.

As an incarcerated Black man, what surprised me were a few events that took place that shocked most people and sparked many debates from those incarcerated and those on the outside. First, a police officer was held accountable for murdering a Black person, though numerous other officers were either not prosecuted or were acquitted. Second, she was sentenced to 10 years in prison.

But what really drove some people crazy was when the brother of the victim hugged and forgave Guyger. Then another shocker, Judge Tammy Kemp, a Black woman, also gave Guyger a hug and a Bible, which sparked its own debate about the separation of church and state.

If that wasn’t enough, the prosecution’s star witness was murdered not too long after the trial was over.

Man, we got a lesson into the multifaceted nature of our criminal justice system: restorative justice, disproportionate sentencing and possible witness intimidation. But what amazed me the most was the debate, especially among those incarcerated, about the victim’s brother hugging and forgiving the offender (Guyger), which is an example of Restorative Justice.

I’m around people every day, be they men in blue or volunteers, who believe in Restorative Justice. Many people believe in and fight for prison reform. Should my views change because she was a police officer who “tripped the hell out,” as we say in the neighborhood, for breaking into someone else’s house and killing them?

I know many people who have done senseless things, including myself. Do I want forgiveness from the people I have harmed? Do you want forgiveness for your past or present indiscretions? I have had the chance to witness the healing power of victim/offender dialogue first- hand: check out prior issues of SQ News. We also have a Re:Store/Survivor column. But Guyger was a police officer, some argue. She should have known better. True.

If she were Black—not to mention if the roles were re- versed and it were a Black man who shot a White woman—do I think there would be the same treatment? History says most likely not. There are people serving life sentences for stealing a slice of pizza or drug possession. So Black people and people of color are disproportionally sentenced throughout the nation.

There is so much pain in the community when justice is not balanced. But when it comes to forgiveness, this doesn’t mean one forgets. Forgiveness is not just for the one who has offended, it can start the healing process for the victim/survivor or their families.

Constantly reliving that trauma can affect one’s quality of life. There are still people being denied 20 to 30 years later at the parole board because family members are still attending the hearings and seeking some form of justice.

So I have to commend the brother and the judge for breaking the status quo when it comes to the criminal justice system. Everyone has his or her own time to heal. It is not for me to judge someone else’s pain. But I am of the same opinion as Danielle Sered, author of Until We Reckon: Violence, Mass Incarceration and a Road to Repair.

“We need these stories of extraordinary forgiveness and the complication they introduce. They are critical testaments to the human capacity for compassion. They, like the pained stories of hungry revenge, deserve their place in our public consciousness,” Sered wrote.

“But like those other stories, they are not fully representative of most survivors. Most of us lie in the vast space between complete hatred and full forgiveness,” Sered continued.

Racism and violence are, sadly, a part of the fabric of our society. I’m inside looking out and seeing that our nation is in desperate need of empathy and emotional intelligence— the main qualities that are required for someone to be found suitable at the parole board to go home.

Violence is violence and police violence is violence. As I finish up this editorial, another Texas officer shot and killed a Black woman who was inside her own home. I sit sad and confused. So what will be the new debate?

TRUST facilitators go home but find new blood to lead

November 14, 2019 by Marcus Henderson

TRUST participants, members and facilitators share one last photo before leaving prison

Great companies and organizations are the ones that can stand the test of time and San Quentin’s T.R.U.S.T rehabilitative group is one of those programs.

The transformative group hosted its 14th Annual San Quentin T.R.U.S.T Graduation Ceremony and banquet. The October 10 event honored more than 60 people graduating from three different programs: The Health and Wellness Group, Project L.A., and T.R.U.S.T. (Teach- ing Responsibility Utilizing Sociological Training) classes. The Spanish Anger Management group was also in attendance.

TRUST’s Lanie Melnitzer, Christina Eckstrand, Anna Shoop, graduate Michael O’Neal, with Project LA’s Catherine Lonazo and Saun Hough

Robb Rogers, Project L.A. chairman, and Philip Senegal, T.R.U.S.T vice chairman, both received warm goodbyes and congratulations for be- ing found suitable at the pa- role board. The two longtime members expect to be released at the end of the year.

The men who “do programs” at San Quentin get out, said Steve Emrick, SQ’s recently retired Community Resources Manager. “The parole board and the outside community recognize the work that is being done in these programs. I hope all of you who take part in the programs walk away with the things you learned and become productive re- turning citizens.”

Susanne Siciliano, Melnitzer, Eckstrand, Shoop and Quilley Powers cheer as Diana Kronstadt speaks

The large crowd of volunteers and graduates recognized Rogers for his humble and direct personality that helped shape the Project L.A. program.

“After 38 years, I look for- ward of being home. This program provides all the necessary tools to survive upon release,” said Rogers. “I’m going to get involved with the Jericho organization once released. I look forward to helping the people coming after me.”

Project L.A. is a goal-set- ting and pre/post release program that assists people from Southern California with their re-entry needs. The Jericho organization, based in Los Angeles, works closely with the program.

“When people from our community are housed this far away they need this type of program,” said Saun Hough, executive director of Jericho, who also was formerly incarcerated. “We let the men know that they have a team when they come home. I once walked this road (incarcerated and reentry). I’m honored to be a part of some- one else’s team. We are on the ground, we provide real-time support and help those returning navigate the resources.”

Hough served more than 20 years in prison and has been free for eight, but every so often he reflects on his life journey.

“I was sitting in Dunkin’ Donuts the other day and I start thinking about my freedom. I began texting my daughter, then my wife and I just said, ‘I’m home—I’m home!’”

Hough said he prays to keep having that feeling.

Senegal is waiting for his second chance at freedom. He is one of the last founding members of T.R.U.S.T., established in 2003.

“I shall not do harm to myself, my family or my community; that is the golden rule of T.R.U.S.T,” said Senegal. “I’m no longer the cancer that did harm to my community. Now, I’m that healing agent.”

What motivated the founding of the group was when former Gov. Jerry Brown, who was the Mayor of Oakland at the time, stated on a news program that the core problem and the rise of crime in the community and the surrounding area of Alameda County was due to the influx of incarcerated people coming from San Quentin, said Senegal.

“This program provides all the necessary tools to survive upon release”

“We took offense to that statement and wanted to change that perspective. So with the help of the prison administration, they brought the curriculum inside and we developed the program,” he said. “If you don’t invest in yourself, change can never come about.”

Since the start of the program it has graduated hundreds of men within the prison. It also hosts the SQ Health Fair, the largest medical event, probably in the country, for a prison.

TRUST participants, members and facilitators share one last photo before leaving prison leadership but we welcome the new blood coming in,” said Diana Kronstadt, one of T.R.U.S.T’s sponsors. “Phillip bought us the history of the program with him. Robb is such a talented guy. I think they will do good things on the out- side—their presence will be missed.”

Kronstadt expressed confidence about the continued longevity of the program while the new graduates smiled as they walked across the chapel stage to receive their certificates of completion.

“I feel selfish because we learn so much more than we give to these programs,” said Christina Laird, program volunteer. “These guys are masters of de-escalation. I learned how to use the ‘I statement’ from them. I had a chance to use these techniques at my job and I just own that space.

“These guys are preparing themselves for society,” Laird added.

Louis “Louie” Light, T.R.U.S.T member and MC of the event, kept the mood festive and on schedule with his humor, plus seriousness. He made sure everyone had their time to speak and get their picture taken.

The SQ Jazz band provided soul-soothing instrumentals as the participants enjoyed their meals and their accomplishments.

Incarcerated female veterans may face higher degrees of trauma

November 14, 2019 by Marcus Henderson

CIW’s staff and incarcerated Honor Guards together to honor those who had fell on 9/11, September 2018

What happens when former U.S. service men or women find themselves behind bars, trying to process hidden traumas after serving in the military?

For incarcerated female veterans, the traumas they face may be doubled due to suffering from abuse prior to serving and while on duty in the military, according to a National Resource Center on Justice Involved Women report titled Responding to the Needs of Women Veterans Involved in the Criminal Justice System.

The criminal justice system and other human service agencies that fail to identify women under their care as veterans can create barriers for women seeking necessary help and services, said the report.

“Remember, veterans have learned not to be weak or to dis- play weakness. They have been trained as warriors and do not want to be seen as victims,” said the report.

Women veterans who return home from active duty have very little or no time to readjust to civilian life, the report said.

“Military women with children are less likely to have the same support networks as military men,” said the report. “Single mothers and women veterans whose husbands are still serving on active duty must immediately begin caring for their children.”

These same women can suffer from the same combat related trauma as their male counterparts, such as being fired upon by enemy forces, rockets, sniper fire, and seeing others killed or wounded.

Women veterans have a higher rate of unemployment compared to male veterans, according to the report. Single mothers or women veterans who have experienced military sexual trauma (MST) experience homelessness at a higher rate than civilian women.

One in five female veterans has experienced military sex- ual trauma compared to one in 100 male veterans, according to a study by the Veteran’s Health Administration. MST is defined as experiences of sexual assault or harassment while on active military duty.

In a sample of U.S. Navy recruits, 15% of new male and female recruits reported traumatic histories. The women recruits reported higher percentages of past childhood traumas of physical or sexual abuse, the report revealed.

In the U.S. Army, 22% of women stated that they used alcohol as a way to cope with stress in their lives, reported the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration.

CIW Honor Guard walks at the AVON 39th Walk to End Breast Cancer in 2018

This substance abuse can lead to anxiety disorders, depression, and PTSD. With- out proper treatment these women can spiral down into unemployment, homeless- ness, or the criminal justice system.

These dynamics should be considered when working with female veterans in the justice system, noted the report. If the women had a negative experience with the military, it can cause them to refrain from seeking help from the Department of Veteran’s Affairs (VA).

“Some women in the military may have been ostracized, isolated or punished or reporting abuse,” said the report. “Since these women were assaulted while serving in the military, it is unlikely that they were able to elicit support from their loved ones.”

The full effects of these past traumas, prior to entering the military or being re-traumatized while in the military, are still being researched.

“We need to understand that the issues facing women veterans in the justice system may be complex as a result of untreated trauma, mental illness, and substance abuse, and their unique military experiences,” acknowledged the researchers.

Even though women veterans make up a small population in state and federal prison, they do have high rates of cooccurring disorders among women veterans in general. While incarcerated, more may attempt suicide or engage in self-harm than other women in the general population, according to the report.

By screening and identifying the military status of the women who enter prison, the criminal justice system can provide the necessary resources for women recovering from these traumatic experiences or suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD.

Currently, the California Institution for Women (CIW), a state prison, has the Veterans in Prison (VIP Post 1) program for the vets who live there.

“Women veterans may have strengths that can be mobilized to mitigate risk for future criminal behavior,” concluded the report. “Women in the military often have achieved higher education levels and have a steady job history when compared to other justice-involved women.”

Wall City Volume 2 Issue 2: The Women’s Issue

October 21, 2019 by Marcus Henderson

These pages are written by women, about women. Here’s why.

How powerful is a voice when no one will hear the cries? “Everyone has a voice, but not

everybody has a platform,” said Tracy Brumfield. Brumfield is the founder of RISE Up News. She is one of the formerly incarcerated women featured in our “Over the Wall” section.

Her statement made me imagine someone alone in the woods surrounded by mountain-high trees. The person starts to scream at the top of their lungs, look- ing for a way out, but no one hears them. Not a soul understands the desperation of being separated from the rest of the world and not knowing if they will live or die in this dangerous environment.

All people know is that you strayed off the path. Only a few people wonder how you got lost. You start to wonder your- self how you got lost.

The woods are an unforgiving place. Some have come out the other side battered and abused but primed to help the world. Others stumble out more damaged and disconnected than be- fore. Some never make it out at all.

Women’s voices are growing loud around the world with the #NeverthelessshePersisted, RESIST and #MeToo movements. There is a segment of women who have suffered the same hardships as the women who start- ed these movements, but their voices are rarely heard. The men of San Quentin News are honored to give the pages of the third issue of Wall City to these incarcerated and formerly incarcerated women so we can hear their stories.

Charisse Shumate is one of the women whose stories can be found in these pages. Shumate helped change California’s prison healthcare system. She was the lead plaintiff in Shumate v. Wilson, the first ever class action lawsuit filed by women prisoners in California. Formerly incarcerated firefighter Amika Mota is also in these pages. She details some of the pain, struggles and joys she navigated in prison while she fought fires. We also hear the voices of the young women housed in Ventura Youth Correction Facility. They give us insight into the trials of reckoning with their

actions and growing up in an institution. In our legal section, Sara Kruzan shares her story of surviving violence only to be re-traumatized as she went in front of the parole board. Kruzan has become a parole success story—she now works as an advocate, preparing others for a positive parole hearing.
Some of these stories would not have come to fruition without the help of the California Institution for Women and the Department of Juvenile Justice Administrations. We thank them for getting the word out to the women within their institutions and facilitating getting us the stories. We could always be critical of the administration, but in fairness, they are juggling safety and security concerns with rehabilitation efforts. Once we understand that we are all an integral part of this system of incarceration, we can build the bridges that truly heal our society. This system tests everybody’s humanity—whether you are a prisoner or an administrator.

We also thank the California Coalition of Women Prisoners for their contribution to this project. It’s their continued work both inside and outside of prison that brings awareness to women’s issues. I thank all the contributors and advisers for making this issue possible. All your words and stories have challenged the flawed male belief system I grew up with of being self-centered, domineering and uncaring. Thank you for giving me insight into your trials and strengths. Let me say, I hear you.

Concert showcases Mad Mama, the Bona Fide Few, and the Bangers

September 16, 2019 by Marcus Henderson

Mad Mama Lopez (right) with the Mad Mama

The sounds of guitar riffs being shredded and vintage rock ’n’ roll rang throughout San Quentin’s Lower Yard for the prison’s annual Rock Concert.

The July 27 event showcased Mad Mama and the Bona Fide Few and punk rock band the Bangers. Mad Mama’s band hails from San Francisco and the Bangers made the trip from Sacramento.

The lively personality of Mad Mama Lopez set the stage ablaze with her bubbly demeanor and sharp wit. Mad Mama’s airy high-pitched vocals, similar to Minnie Mouse, the iconic Disney character, blended perfectly with the impressive play of the Bona Fide Few.

The band’s musical vibe was a mixture of ’50s and ’60s rock ’n’ roll with a modern twist and a country twang, known as Whisky Soaked Americana.

The Bangers on stage on the Lower Yard performing

“I’m here to shed a little light in a dark place,” said Mad Mama. “You are not alone. We all make mistakes. We’re meant to be loved.

“We all are struggling,” she added, encouragingly.

After a few moments of technical difficulties with microphones and equipment, Mad Mama led the band in a sizzling 45-minute show. The group performed “Texan Boy” a spicy relationship song.

“I didn’t tell my mama I was coming to sing in prison—not because I was coming into a dangerous place, but because Mama knows I love a bad boy!” yelled Mad Mama as she started the song.

The infectious fast paced beat sounded like a Chuck Berry tone mixed with some Johnny Cash. Mad Mama, with her squeaky country vocals, swayed left and right as she played her ukulele.

Tony Velour’s magical fingers danced around the large upright bass, Paul Monteiro provided the masterful rhythm on the drums, and Steve Egelman rounded out the band with superb guitar riffs and vocals.

“It’s a blessing to bring in this music,” said Egelman. “Good or bad, we’re still people. Music is only going to be a good thing.”

Armed with an array of original songs, the band performed “Trouble,” “Mercy Me,”

“Honey Tonight” and “God, What’s Your Plan for Me?” The mid-size crowd of 60 to 70 men showed the band appreciation with loud ovations and whistling to each chorus of the songs.

Mad Mama worked the crowd into a frenzy with the cover song “Mojo”—with a call-and-response on the song hook: “I got my mojo working.” She yelled it and the men responded.

Mad Mama showed her vocal range as she performed Janis Joplin’s hit “Me and Bobby McGee,” generating a sing-along fest by older prisoners. Mad Mama and the Bona Fide Few left the audience with huge smiles, as the band enchanted the men with something old mixed with the new rhythms.

“I loved it,” said Chris Thomas. “This bought me back to my childhood. Music makes me feel good. I love this,” Thomas added, bringing his hand to his heart.

Mad Mama Lopez (right) with the Mad Mama The Bangers kicked off the
show with their heavy metal-in-spired and punk rock flavored set, inspiring a lot of
head banging by the crowd. The band entertained with songs such as “Break- ing the Law,” “Lost,” “Sex, Drugs and Rock ’n’ Roll” and a crowd favorite, “Mistreated.”

As the band’s lead singer and guitarist, Bill Heston’s gravely vocals complement- ed the frantic tempo played by group members: Brian Young, drummer; Zoran The odorovic, bass; and Guy Jone, on guitar. All the members provided background vocals.

Heston, the self-proclaimed “Crank Sinatra” and “Lord Banger” teased the groups of entertainers signed autographs and mingled with the audience before driving off the yard. The prisoners and guests all waved goodbye, ending a totally satisfying concert..

“I’m into rock music— I heard they were coming. I figured I’d come take a listen,” said Glenn R. “It’s nice to hear a live band. It’s been 15 years since my last concert, Iron Maiden. It was awesome and a great experience.”

—Anthony Faulk contributed to this article

HBO film O.G. reviewed at Sing Sing prison

September 11, 2019 by Marcus Henderson

Incarcerated audience was invited to engage in Q&A dialogue with film’s director Madeleine Sackler

The groundbreaking film O.G. was shown to a packed house of prisoners at the notorious Sing Sing prison in New York. The fictional film features an incarcerated man facing release after more than two decades in prison.

Sing Sing prisoners, Hudson Link volunteers and O.G. director Madeleine Sackler pose for a photo after the screening

The incarcerated men were given a chance to critique the film and have a Q&A with the film’s director, Madeleine Sackler. The event was brought to the prison courtesy of the prison college program Hudson Link for Higher Education in Prison.

“The film was recognized by our organization because of its groundbreaking inclusivity,” said Sean Pica, executive director of the sponsoring organization.

The film was released last year on HBO and is considered unique because it was shot in the Pendleton Correctional Facility in Indiana; almost every role in the film is played by someone who works or lives in Pendleton, according to the organization’s press release.

The college program, along with the film’s director Sackler, was granted permission to screen the film inside Sing Sing for the Hudson Link students. Hudson Link has a college program in eight New York state prisons—Sing Sing is one of them.

Pica made the surprise announcement at the organization’s Spring Benefit Dinner, following the presentation of its Bill Webber Award for Community Service. Sackler was this year’s award recipient.

Sean Pica said that Sackler created the film to challenge the image of prisons that is currently portrayed in popular culture: “These images can be incredibly misleading,” he said, “and ultimately fail to represent the realities of those caught within the system.”

Sackler is an Emmy-winning director of films that shine a spotlight on social injustice. Her award-winning documentary, The Lottery, brought attention to the US public education crisis. According to the press release, this led her to investigate criminal justice issues and problems in prison systems.

“Our currently incarcerated students love hearing about those whose work we recognize and celebrate,” said Pica, “so this film screening not only gave them the opportunity to meet someone who has done incredible work in her community, it also gave them the chance to assess that work for themselves and offer their responses.”

After the film, students discussed their critiques, focusing, for example on the portrayal of violence. The group praised the film for capturing the disorienting experience of facing release from prison.

“We would like to thank the administration at Sing Sing for continuously encouraging unique educational opportunities for our students,” said Pica. “We wouldn’t be able to host any of our incredible events or programs without their support.

“We would also like to thank Madeleine and her team for visiting our program and taking the time to encourage our students. This was an incredibly unique experience which we know the Sing Sing students will be talking about for a long time.”