While “In That World”…
Every four years, we sit around to tune in and celebrate a country built on slave labor, genocide, and myths because the Olympics is clearly something to be proud of. All before unwillingly having to “choose” the lesser of two evils in just a few months… Parallel universe hunger games. Free Congo. Free Palestine. Free black and brown people of the diaspora.
I’m not sure why I can’t ignore the bad for the good or why my soul refuses to be blind to the current day realities (because I understand they all exist). Every Christmas, I give a little grinch. Every Valentine’s Day, I give a little bitch. Don’t ask me a damn thing about the 4th of July. Please... Don’t ruin your own day by involving me.
How could a country or its people be free when the prison industrial complex exists? When there has been zero retribution or deep cleansing/healing for the victims or descendants chattel slavery (legal buying, selling, and owning of Africans and their descendants supported by the United States and European powers). At this point, I am the broken record. Writing this today, in 2024, is no different from what I wrote and how I felt in 2014, as a college sophomore/commentary writer for the Southern Digest on the yard. The only difference is now I’m mother and I’m a little less passionate about yelling out for change and more active in empowering changed ways.
In July of this year, I was privileged to instruct a creative writing class at the Travis Hill School inside of the Juvenile center (jail) of New Orleans. It’s something I’d been wanting to do since 2022 (I wanted to bring Scribe Tribe on the inside). Three weeks was the time that I served, from 8-12 on weekdays. Facilitating writing prompts, guiding deeper creative thought, and solution-based writings. It felt like a pivot for sure. I felt used, in the best way, to help OUR children be reminded of the power in their voice and thoughts.
Some of them refer to being outside of jail as “that world”. The unique and ‘in-tune’ teacher in me typically adapts to youth slang because it is understandable and makes for good relationship building. I did my best to remind them of the opportunities for redemption, rejuvenation, and actual rehab while back “in that world”. A current goal of mine is to establish a creative healing resource hub for them and their peers (wink, wink), to help them maintain sanity and direction when they come home to the world. These spaces are mostly nonexistent. Support for the families and environmental development just isn’t accessible or a priority in the ‘“communities” where these kids grow up. It’s more than likely that some of them will continue to be in and out of jail because nothing changes about their environment or “community” while they’re incarcerated. This means that the key to unlocking their abundant destiny truly does reside internally. This is where creativity rest.
I’m also extremely sure that those of us who live “in that world” are responsible for one another, which ultimately means those incarcerated as well. When someone goes to jail, it’s not an isolated experience. The entire family and community is affected in one way or another when ONE person is arrested and has to sit. I would never ignore the WHYS and HOWS they got there. Truly, I even had a student say to me, “Ms. Sharita, everybody who is in here, deserves to be here.” Instantly, my heart was broken. Yet, the truth helps us to move on, the quicker we can accept it. So, naturally, I return to my own disposition. “Why do they deserve to be here? What were the circumstances? What was the intent? How did it get that way? At what point, did evil penetrate into this experience and win?”
I think about this society, hooked up with slave labor (mass incarceration), slow or rapid genocide (nuclear war, health, redlining/gentrification, miseducation, disenfranchisement, etc.) and myths (chile, I refuse to spell it ALL out… my back hurts). Everyday, rage and sadness consumes me at some point. It is a religion to seek and stand in joy, a requisite for survival. It has to be practiced. How could it ever remain when you reflect on the overpopulation of the prison industrial complex? It makes you think that the Africans who were kidnapped and stacked like sardines on ships headed for the Americas to be forced and tortured plantation laborers, were never let go and freed… The correction centers mirror that system almost to a T. The T in Treacherous.
I’m also a highly emotional and critical individual. When something is wrong, I ruminate on the why’s and how’s to a fault, at times. To me, it is wrong for children who are victims of the generational and residual effects of chattel slavery and a vile racial caste system to be incarcerated for the amounts of time that they are when evaluations, introspection, nurturing, resources, guidance, and proper holistic education would suffice. Children come into this world letting us know WHO they are and WHAT they need. As adults, who bring them into this world, we are solely responsible for HOW and WHEN they receive their needs. We’d have to first admit that we are failing them to properly address their needs. Then, I suppose, recognizing their needs will lead us back to our own. Which then, we’d have to be fully honest about the state of our societal and environmental conditions, at this time. Are we ready for that? Are we still sleeping as a collective? This is truly a question to you because my answer is fixed… Yes, we are sleeping. We are tuned into the Olympics cheering for team USA while simultaneously pretending to be saddened by the mass genocide that the USA has partook in against Palestine (By the way, google search it on map… Yup).
I try my best not to end things on a completely sad note. Know that we don’t have to continue to sleep if we just wanna wake up. When we lay too long, our bones began to ache and we lose mobility. All of our great ideas and ambitions move along from us because we’re no longer as attractive. They eventually find another vessel to support energetically. Please ponder on that last line, I’ll be back… In the meantime, enjoy this digital magazine that the youth of the Travis Hill School created in just three weeks, Unmasked. (just touch/click the word)
