DENIED MEDICAL TREATMENT IN PRISON

DENIED MEDICAL TREATMENT IN PRISON

If you care about someone who is locked up do you feel helpless to do anything for them? What do you do when you find out they have been hurt or abused? You are definitely not alone.

Every person inside; man, woman or juvenile is at risk because of the non-caring, often abusive treatment they receive at the hands of their captors. There is nowhere you can go on the web to find a set of rules you can follow that the prison follows, too.

We say, “How can they do that?” or “Why do they get away with it?” or “Prisoners have rights, someone needs to stop them!” Really? Who? How? Seriously, who do you call? Who is going to make them stop? Do you call the warden or the medical unit if they are sick? Do you ever get the feeling they are lying to you? Then what do you do? You cross your fingers and say a prayer.

Obviously, all the people who make laws know how bad it is inside the prisons. Everyone talks about reform but nothing gets done especially if it involves the corporations. They buy off too many people. They contribute to too many political campaigns. Their lobby is powerful. Everyone agrees something should be done. So why doesn’t it happen? There is no accountability. It’s not going to happen.

Go to the websites for Core Civic (CCA), GEO Group, Corizon or any of the other dozens who are all part of the Prison Industrial Complex and they will show you how wonderful they are and all the great things they do for prisoners. Oh how the misrepresent themselves. You’ll see pictures of people being paid to smile while treating inmates with respect and caring. None of it is real. No one with a loved one inside believes it, but no one knows what to do.

These corporations hide inside their fake websites doing everything possible to keep the public from understanding what they are really doing. They keep families from knowing the truth. The person you know who is inside has one function for them – to increase their profit – with the government’s help.

I get sarcastic comments on social media telling me how great inmates have it. Free room and board and free medical care and how regular people don’t have it that good. They wouldn’t want the kind of health care an incarcerated person gets, but they done know that.

There are many people inside who are denied medical care. The law states they have to provide “adequate” care. But what does that mean? What is adequate? That means they might treat a heart problem with cough medicine or give you a Tylenol and tell you to drink more water. Jamie has told me for years that water and Tylenol is their standard care for most medical issues. If they do that to enough people how many are gong to die of natural causes? How much money do they save which makes their prison business very lucrative. Owning stock in prisons has made a lot of people rich. Making money from indecent treatment of humans. Yes, it’s part of what “Makes America Great” – from the viewpoint of corporations.

Over the past dozen years there have been quite a few times I have gotten a letter from Jamie telling of things the guards have done and the times he’s been hurt, beat up or gassed, medical treatment denied, prescriptions denied, false cases filed against him. The warden lied to me saying his guards would never do that. They have denied Jamie his seizure medication for epilepsy and wrote in his records that they gave it to him.

If any of this sounds familiar to you there is a way to get help. People who understand the law, and how it is manipulated by the corporations and the prison staff, can help you protect your loved one. None of this will change the system as a whole, but you can be proactive in helping the one you are waiting for. You can learn what the prisons don’t want you to know in order to keep this person safe, especially when not getting the right medical care could kill them.

Go to their website and read. Contact them. I did. I read an article about them and left a comment. I didn’t expect to hear anything in return but in 45 minutes they sent me a text and said, “We need to talk. Call me please.” I did. The woman who called me talked for a good half hour and explained some things that has my head spinning. I have honestly been afraid for Jamie and for the first time I knew I had someone in my corner who could help me help him.

 

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Spectacle: The Astonishing Life of Ota Benga

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Source: evolutiontale.com

An article about Ota Benga was published by Push Black. In order to change the future we need to understand our past. This website educates people about black history, much of which is not taught in school. Children grow up not understanding the accomplishments in black history because only the white version of white history is taught in schools controlled by white educators concerned only wish pushing the white agenda as well as closing black public schools.

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The title of this article is also the title of a book you can purchase at Amazon about the kidnapping and exploitation of a Pygmy from the Congo.

The white man believes the color of his skin makes him a superior species. Believing that makes him better than other human beings has enabled him to do despicable things because he feels entitled. Exploiting others for profit only seems reasonable. This thought holds true for many white people today. But greed is not a quality of greatness. It is indeed the root of all evil.

Having money and influence has allowed the abuse of black and minorities races. Because you have the means to enslave other humans doesn’t make you superior. It makes you inferior.

A large percentage of the political white race also declares itself to be Christian and uses the religion as a means of control and justifies the laws they pass to benefit themselves as a right they have because they are white. It is heinous because there is nothing Christian behind their motivations.

Since we invaded America and set out to destroy the indigenous people who lived here, calling them savages because their way of life was different from Europe. European explorers wanted the land. They felt so entitled to take what wasn’t theirs they believed they had “discovered” the land. They set out to kill everyone already here and has continued to take the land given to the remaining people in treaties because they have exhausted the rest of the country of resources.

The land has been polluted with chemicals, mountaintops removed for coal, waters polluted by corporations dumping poisons, gases released by fracking, oil spoiled by faulty pipelines. Now they want the land given to American Indians. They threaten force to take what isn’t theirs to take. They want to drill for resources on their land. They need it now and have the power to take it. The so- called Christians continue to destroy “in the name of God” through force. Nothing has changed to this day.                                                  

At Amazon you can read an excerpt of the story about Ota Benga for free. It is an ugly part of the rise of Greater New York City in the early 19th century. They incarcerated and profited from this man, this human being, because he was different. His depression led to suicide.

He had been hunting in the Conga and returned home to find his wife and children slaughtered. He was captured, brought to America and put on display at the new Monkey House at Bronx Zoo. He was pointed at while people laughed. Did he have to urinate and defecate while people watched? He had to be grieving the loss of his family. Ota Benga’s way of life was not that of America but it was the way of his people. Does that mean it is okay to put him on display? Is it conceivable to put white people on display and treated as animals? Would that anger the white race?

We can only change the future if we learn from the past. If we don’t, we continue making the same mistakes in our treatment of humanity. My continued writing about prisons is an example of exploiting blacks and minorities for profit. As a white woman I am ashamed of what my race is doing and ashamed of those in our government who know what is happening yet are complicent in turning a blind eye. They, too, profit from the money given by prison corporations for their political campaigns. They are then beholden to vote for laws that increases these corporation’s profit by incarcerating a greater number of black people, minorities and immigrants while continuing to plant the seed with Americans that black people are inferior.

Many white people have a deep rooted need to feel they are a superior race. Watching the rise of white nationalism through the KKK and being told by the president that these are good people has confused the younger generation into believe it’s true. Lack of education means they aren’t learning from the past.

Many of those incarcerated have committed no crimes. Many have drastically increased punishment when compared to the incarceration of white people, yet no one is willing to level the playing field. Why is that so? Who benefits from this?

We can’t change what happened in the past but it doesn’t appear that we learned from it, does it?

 

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It’s Hard to Walk Away From a Prison Visit

 

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It’s hard to walk away from a prison visit not knowing when another visit might be possible. Visits with Jamie will be behind glass until he is classified G2. To get to the visitors area I first had to go through a metal detector – remove everything, like at an airport, and go through a thorough pat down. They even checked my pockets and the cuffs on my pants to feel if anything was sewn inside. A woman behind glass took down his ID number, checked my DL and wrote down identification of my car. She called ahead to see if she could send me through.

This was my third and last visit. Visiting hours are only on the weekend. The adseg cubicles were full so I was given a card with a number and told to go back to my car, move to a different parking lot and wait – for about 1 1/2 hours. This visit was a regular visit – two hours. The previous two visits were special visits that had to be approved by the warden. On the Monday before I had to call at 8 am and submit my name and where I was traveling from because special visits are only granted for people coming long distances. They only reserve 5 cubicles (for 3,500 inmates) so there is no promise you’ll get approved. On Thursday you call back at 2 pm to see if the warden approved the visit. The weekend before I was approved. It was a two hour drive, then a four hour visit and two hours back. Two days in a row. This last visit was a regular visit for two hours. They close at five. As I sat in the parking lot waiting, I was afraid this delay would cut my visit short. He might think I wasn’t coming if it got too late.

I had to rent a car this time instead of using my daughter’s car and they didn’t open until 11 am. I couldn’t get on the road as early as I did the weekend before. I sat in my car and watched a series episode on Netflix to pass the time until I saw a staff car pull beside my car and wave me over. It took a little less than they thought. Someone must have left early. I was relieved. If it had taken as long as they said my visit would only be an hour. I knew by now he thought I wasn’t coming and he would have been so disappointed. I couldn’t get word to him for at least a couple days using JPay.com to send an email.

I went back through the metal detector and pat down and they waved me through. There is a decent length walkway outside leading to the main building. I stood and looked up at the layers of razor wire and guard tower. It was a beautiful afternoon, warm and sunny. Under a tree was a bench with a flower pot. There was a plaque indicating it was a memorial to “fallen guards”. I wondered if there was a memorial somewhere for all the prisoners who died from “natural” causes. I gave a little laugh under my breath knowing it was a stupid thought.

I thought about the visit I was going to have, knowing he would be disappointed because his son wasn’t with me. His son, Jamie, was going through his own issues with his father locked up and dealing with limited communication. He wouldn’t come with me to the prison this year. It’s hard on both of them, because they have never had time together to bond. They have never touched.

Letters are hard. Jamie can’t talk about his life in prison. There is no way to explain to a 12 year old what he’s going through. How often can he ask how he’s doing in school? He has started many letters he didn’t know his to finish. Little Jamie only knows he doesn’t have his father. He has only his mother’s live-in relationship, who he calls dad at his mother’s suggestion. This man has been good to him and has provided a good home, but it is still not his dad. Someday Jamie will get out of prison when his son is nearly out of school. He will have missed his entire childhood. But your children are your children long after childhood. Hopefully they will find a way to come together and understand each other.

As I walked toward the double doors for the next ID check I looked over my shoulder. The sun was shining and flowers were planted along the walkway. Pumpkins were set out for Halloween. It gave a false sense of normalcy to a place that was anything but normal. I mused, how nice it would if Jamie could take a walk outside. Just walk, in a stride the length of his legs instead of having a chain connecting his ankles forcing him to take short steps. He’d swing his arms in rhythm with his walk instead of being cuffed behind him. We often take for granted the little things we do without thinking

I looked over at one of the buildings. I was sure I was looking at prison cells because Jamie had described the windows. There were three floors of windows/slats in the wall. They werr about seven inches high and two feet long. Too high to look out but it would let light in. He drew me a picture of his cell. 5′ wide by 10′ long. Just big enough for his bunk, toilet and a place to sit and write. Storage was under the bunk. At an earlier prison he had bars at one end so anyone could see in. There was no privacy. His cell now has a steel door so unless the guard opens it he sees nothing.

During each of our visits I bought food for him from the vending machines. Barely edible sandwiches, snacks and sodas. It was like buying dinner at a gas station. Even when I buy him a food box and have it sent there is little real food to choose. 

I was assigned to seg 7. I sat down in front of the booth and waited. It had been 1 1/2 years. June ’16. The only good thing is that he was a little closer to the end. When they brought Jamie in they first uncuffed his ankles on the other side of the door, let him in and locked the door. He has to squat down facing me and put his hands back through a small opening so they coulf remove the cuffs on his wrists. You can see it in the picture.

There are 3 types of seating. An open room where inmates can sit with their visitors at a round table. There were quite a few kids. Everyone seemed happy. They were allowed to hold hands. The microwave was constantly busy heating up sandwiches. The inmates seated here were classified G2, the least restrictive. They could take classes and get certifications, make phone calls and work an unpaid job.

In the middle was an area for G4 and G5. The inmates are in a plexi-glass enclosure with about 12 chairs. Visitors sit on the other side in front of them with with short panels separating each one to give a little privacy. One inmate had eight visitors. 4 adults and 4 children. He was one of the lucky ones to have so much support from family.

There were 8 locked cubicles like the one I was sitting in front of. The phone was terrible. Distortion. I had to talk loudly. I would have asked to be moved but the rest were full. The past weekend I was at #3 and the phone was better. The folding chair I had to sit on was so low the counter hit me mid chest. The metal phone cord wasn’t very long and it killed my shoulder holding the phone to my ear. I suppose they don’t want anyone to get too comfortable.

The prison had been on lockdown for about 1 1/2 months. An inmate in gen pop (general population) committed suicide – hung himself. The entire prison went on lock down while they did an investigation to see if it was suicide or gang (or guard) related. “What more can they take away from you?” I asked him. “My one hour of rec.” In a solitary cage. If he was G4 he could go to the yard – play basketball and talk to people, which is also dangerous because guards have pet inmates who do their dirty work for privileges. He is never safe. Every time he has gotten out of seg something happened and he was put back. A guard can file a false case. One time he was sent to adseg for a couple years because a homemade knife “appeared” on his sink during a cell search. It doesn’t leave him with much hope when he gets out of adseg this time – sometime – that he’ll be able to stay out, but he has to try.

Jamie has been in 8 prisons. When they let him out it’s possible he could be moved to another prison. He has already been as far west and south in Texas as possible. It’s is a big state. He could be moved too far away for his son to travel to see him because no one will take him. I might be able visit and take him if he is a two day drive away.

My daughter hates that Jamie and I have been writing. After all, he was her old boyfriend. I had sent him a card many years ago asking how he was. If I had never met him maybe I wouldn’t have. He wrote back. Over time I learned I was the only one writing to him – even his family wouldn’t write – was I supposed to stop? When the writing continues for more than a decade was I not supposed to care about him? We’ve both been through our fair share of personal crisis. I’ve been there for him and he’s been there for me. No one else was willing to help him get simple necessities. Not having someone on the outside makes it easy to for the prison to break them. Depression takes hold when no one cares. Knowing him prompted my writing, my music and research for the truth. I wanted to help him and it would help myself. Give him dreams to hang on to. My daughter thinks it’s inappropriate. Too much has been said in front of their boy that would be hard for him to process.

Prison is a society unlike any other society and it changes you. It makes it nearly impossible to have a “normal” life because you have acquired no life experience that is needed to live in the “Free World”. How to survive in prison is all an inmate learns, which is why so many end up back inside. He can’t be expected to know things he has never done. The world has changed. Society as a while makes it hard. Anyone who has been in prison has to be dangerous.

Because of trauma, letters become emotional when pain and frustration boils over. I feel his loneliness, dispair and anger at not being able to change what happens. He is supposed to have rights, but he has no rights. It’s a farce. I am the only left to fight for him. I pour these emotions into my writing, music, poetry and letters. It’s all I can do to give him a feeling of self worth and to know he hasn’t been forgotten – because everyone else has. I do care. I can’t deny that. I have to see this through because to do anything less makes me just like everyone else.  I won’t do that.

If he does all of his time he gets out early 2023. About 5 years. That seems like a long time but he’s done more than 2/3 of his time. He wants to make get parol buthe doesn’t have his GED yet or a trained skill, a place to live and family who writes letters of support. These are needed. I have a lot to do to help make life possible on the outside. I’ll be 69 and my health isn’t great. I need to finish the book, develop a business around a brand, write this blog, work on my music business and build a mailing list to let people know. 

If you aren’t on the mailing list please subscribe below to get the ITFO NEWS. It is one way you can keep up with what is happening. It helps. You can share what I write. It does make a difference. I reach out to many people affected by the prisons. We are learning there is strength in numbers. We can use that strength to help the many people inside and their families.

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SkunkRadioLive . . . Indie radio station out of London playing music composed for  the book being written for Jamie.  I have a featured page. I intend to promote the music as a soundtrack for the book. Can it be done?

 

Can You Stop Prison Abuse?

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Can you stop prisons abuse? On a whole – no. But can you help the person you support? I believe you can. I’m not going to sit by with crossed fingers hoping they won’t succeed in hurting or possibly killing him. They crossed a line. 

I’m on a plane, headed home from a three week trip to Texas to see family and visit with Jamie. It was a hard trip but much was accomplished. I was able to go to Allred Prison three times for a total of 10 hours. It was good to see Jamie and the smile on his face told me he was looking forward to this visit, his only visit since my last trip in Sept ’16. One sad note – his son refused to go with me. More on that another time.

I have learned things. If someone you care about is locked up and you seriously want to help them, read this post through to the end. If you are writing to an inmate you met as a pen pal you probably aren’t invested enough to go to bat for him/her against the prison system, although taking the time to communicate with someone who needs the support of someone in the free world is no small thing.

I learned things about the prison system. How they get away with doing things that put inmates in danger. The prisons and staff should be held accountable and made to do the right thing but how is that possible? Who makes them? Does your call to the warden make them? If it doesn’t, can you just sit at home and worry while you wait for a letter or a call to know they are okay, if they even have phone privileges, which Jamie doesn’t?

Every politician, whose job is to create policies that are supposed to be for the good of the people, KNOWS how corrupt the system is. So why aren’t the prisons made to change and treat human beings kept inside the cages and cement closets as something other than a commodity they can beat and misuse any time they want?

Many people, due to lack of education about the prisons believe only the guilty are prosecuted and they deserve whatever torture they receive. The guilty inside lose the right to be human. There is abroad spectrum of guilt. Not everyone inside is a child abuser, murderer, rapist or the like. There are people inside because they couldn’t pay a court ordered fine or they were with someone who committed a crime and are guilty by association. Some are guilty but why are there different sentences for the same crime if you are white instead of black. Some are innocent left with no option but to take a plea deal because there is no one to fight for them. 17 years or 50-99. Would you plead guilty if you are innocent and risk never getting out?

New crimes are being decided this year to fill the gap left by less personal drug use arrests. They are prosecuting people who dare to protest. They are arresting kids as young as seven for fighting. They are handcuffing kids at school. Detention isn’t good enough anymore if money could be made for the prison system. Ruin them young, destroy their education and it later becomes a filled bed in an adult prison. Why do you think they want to lock up kids? Read Jamie’s story in the links at the to of the page and learn what they did to destroy him at 16 even though the only crime committed was by a cop who busted into his families home.

Many of the “guilty” inside are there because they couldn’t afford an attorney. It doesn’t matter how guilty someone is, they are treated the same. They lose the right to live as though their life matters. No one is going to make the prison system do the right thing, especially if you base it on the concept of actual right and wrong. Even the politicians who outright say the prison system needs changing don’t have the power to make that happen. There is too much money to be made. The corporations involved need to be fed. It doesn’t matter – at all – if thousands of people across the country die from abuse if it pads their bottom line. No family or friend on the outside who learns about the abuse of their loved one is going to change that.

We do the best we can to help our husband/wife/ son/daughter or other family/friend. We call the prison/medical unit/warden/mail room when things go wrong or we just need answers. An inmate files a grievance that gets lost. A guard can retaliate in many ways. The warden looks the other way. He lies to you and says, “My guards would never do that.” Medications are withheld that can cause death – heart/seizure /cholesterol/insulin/ depression and psych meds and others. Medical problems can easily be erased out of records. Wrong medications can be substituted. Dental problems not addressed. An abcess? Who cares? Pain? Too bad. The list of what they can do is long.

Let’s say your son has been sentenced to 10-20 years. Does he have a Medical issue? What if he is beat – by guards or inmates, how will you intervene? The prison staff is trained to lie to you. Do you know when they are lying? Do they sympathize with you while they lie? What can you do about it? Are we helpless to help?

The list of things done to Jamie over the years is long. Incomprehensible and cruel acts that are often life threatening. Judging by the comments guards and medical personnel say to him it seems as though they take pleasure in hurting people. Are they paid to be this way? Do they get satisfaction knowing their actions caused someone to possibly die? Many death certificates in prisons say, “Died of natural causes,” but it doesn’t say they withheld necessary medications that caused this natural death. Do you think an autopsy will be done to understand the cause of death? Absolutely nothing would be done that indicated the prison was responsible. You’d be lucky to even find out the whereabouts of the body.

If you have a loved one who is locked up you probably have been through some of what I am saying. There is no rule book. Where do you go to find out what to do? Who will help you? Who has the answers? Even if you talked to an attorney, does that person understand how the prison corporations operate? Probably not. That is field not practiced by the average attorney.

If anyone wants to know where hell is located, it is in the prison system and any entity associated with it. It mentally ruins anyone who works within it, including those who look the other way because they want to keep their job. At the end of the day they go home to the free world knowing what they witnessed and knowing they went along with being cruel to human beings way beyond what their sentence dictated. Inmates are sentenced to time, not abuse. All prison staff have to live with that. What goes around comes around.

At any given time there are millions of people in the system. Every year they lock up at least as many people as they let out. The prisons stay full – per the contracts the prison corporations have with the government. Since they can’t easily fill the prisons anymore with people caught with a personal stash of weed, they have had to make new crimes. Jeff Sessions has vowed to increase mandatory minimums. Why do you think he would want to do that? Because these people are too dangerous to be free? Or died he own prison stock? The major push of immigrant detention has made these corporations very happy and even more rich. Why else would you lock up women and children when they seek medical care or go to church? Are these the bad hombres? The prison corporations love Donald Trump and Jeff Sessions to pieces, they are so damn happy.

The next issue of ITFO NEWS will focus on this issue to help you understand how to fight for someone who is inside. No one knows what to do. You can subscribe below to make sure it is delivered to your inbox. I can’t stress how important this is if you have someone you care about inside, especially if you are already aware of wrongdoing. You will want to keep this issue as a resource. Share it with a friend you know who has someone inside.

If you have read my blog you know Jamie has epilepsy. I’ve been worried, even more so since they upped their game messing with his meds on a regular basic and giving him excuses why they wouldn’t give him his seizure meds. He had a seizure and they let him lay on his cell floor untreated. They lied to me when I called and said he didn’t have a seizure. I was also told I couldn’t call back to check on him because I was only “allowed” to call once a month. Is that true? How do I find out? This isn’t the first time they refused his meds but I didn’t know what I could do about it. I thought, “Why would they do that? Isn’t it wrong? How can I find out if he is okay?”

After my first visit his ID came up missing. Three days the following week he was again denied his meds because he had no ID, even though a new one was requested and they know they know him. A week later and he still had no ID. He knows his number and they can look it up. It was deliberate. They most likely took his ID. How else could it disappear into thin air? I am fighting this now.

You know the old saying, “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink.” This is one of those times. We can’t force the system to change. That isn’t going to happen. But you can learn what to do to keep your loved one safe and fight back. You CAN force that horse to drink when you learn how to play their game. Knowledge is power.

 

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The Cage

The music “So Long Old Friends” might begin to play automatically. Click on the arrow of this music and it will switch over ( or listen to both and tell me which one you like better!)

Leaving a prison cell

 

by Sonni Quick

THE CAGE

The only place life exists
for me
It doesn’t change, I can’t resist
or see
a world beyond, a chance to choose
and be
a man who craved to learn and grow
humbly

I look around and see a rat-
filled box
a metal door, a gray food slot
with locks
Afraid to eat the food they bring
guards stick
filthy hands into my tray
that’s sick

I bide my time, I count the days
and weep
months and years go slowly by
I sleep
dream away my years of life
the loss
was greater than I understood
it cost

Years tick by one by one
they pass
four years left it’s gettin close
at last
the cage gets small, it seems to breathe
with me
Will I fit into the world one day?
hopefully

 

Sonni Quick © 2017

 

Sonni’s Pinterest

Jamie Life in Prison at Facebook . . .Blog posts and news about injustice in the world

Piano Improv Music of Sonni Quick . . . New facebook page of the past and present

ReverbNation . . . Website of Indie music not on traditional radio stations. Sonni’s featured page.

SkunkRadioLive . . . Indie radio station out of London playing music composed for  the book being written for Jamie.  If you can, help support by sharing the music and leaving a comment or following. Thank you to those who have.

 

Waiting For Your Visit at Allred Prison

Jamie's letters

I’ve been waiting for your visit. It’s been so long.  Over a year and no one else has come to see me.  I also feel as though the staff wants me to fail.  Somehow they get pleasure out of it. I’ve been waiting and waiting to be let out of adseg. There is no reason why I should be here.  It’s been almost three years this time.  I don’t have any write-ups.  What do they want out of me they aren’t getting? That’s why I know they must enjoy the power they have over us.  All I can do is try to hang on.

I’m sorry it took so long to answer. You know I was having some problems.  I had problems with medical about them getting me my medications and other problems with an officer putting his hands in my food. These people are a bunch of lying pieces of shit. I know you called up here and questioned them about my medications.  I knew you did because they sent not one but two nurses to my cell on different days to talk to me.  One was a pill nurse and one was the RN. They let my seizure medication expire and then tried to blame me. They waited four days.  That must have been when you called and they knew they couldn’t get away with it anymore.  I told every pill nurse who came through here that I didn’t get my medication and they ignored me. Sometimes it was the same nurse I was telling. They did it on purpose. They said they were waiting until they renewed my meds to come talk to me. That was a lie.  They came because you called. Why did they let it run out?  What were they trying to do?

I tried to make a complaint but the RN said she did not care. Even when I told her a ranking officer witnessed everything she still said she did not care.  They had only come to my cell to talk to me to cover their asses.

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(Sonni’s note: When I called the main medical unit when I got Jamie’s letter telling me they were skipping his seizure meds, I was told the nurses has marked in his file that he was getting his meds every day, so it was deliberate record falsification.  I wanted to call the warden but I know from previous experience that he will always side with his staff and never with the inmate no matter what happened.  I knew he had a reclassification coming up anytime trying to get out of adseg and if I tried blame his staff for what happened they might retaliate against him. One time after he got beat by the guards and I talked to the warden, the guards filed 13 sexual harassment charges against him in one month. It doesn’t matter if they were warranted, it was now on his record and that makes it true. It is a crappy system.  The guards get away with all the abuse they take out on the inmates. When I called the medical unit about him not getting his meds, the woman was going to contact the nurse on that block and ask her.  I said to not do that because they will lie for each other.  Her response – “I know”. 

I am also only allowed to call the medical unit one time a month. I questioned her. “What if there is an issue, like this, and I need to talk to you?”

You can’t.  They won’t put your call through.”

Then I need you to call me back and tell me he is okay. Has he had any seizures during this time?”  Fortunately he hadn’t. I pulled out all the stops to make her sympathetic enough to call me back when she knew something. She said she would, and she did. She said I was right, he wasn’t getting his meds and they gave bogus excuses.  It was deliberate.)

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As for the officers here, nothing has changed. They are plain evil. It has gotten worse because when they are hired they train them to treat us like shit.  Lately all the officers are 18 – 19 years old.  Yep, that young.  They ruin them. They teach them to talk crazy to the men.  As soon as they do it to the wrong person they find out what happens. I feel sorry for them cause half these dudes here will throw shit and piss on them.  Crazy, huh? They have to have some way to get back at them. It’s funny as hell when these guards start talking shit to these dudes and they get hit in the face. If they are going to disrespect the men just because they are inmates they are going to learn what happens.

I still have issues with the guard that keeps messing with my food. That dude is really just crazy.  He gets to me at times but I try my best to stay focused.  They did not let me out of seg.  They set me off for another six months.  People in seg get brought up every six months.

In my last meeting with SCC (state classification), there were three people who sat in on it. A ranking officer on the unit, unit chairman of classification and the Huntsville head person of classification.  The person from Huntsville has the say-so over all of them. She told me I was doing good but I wasn’t ready yet.  I think she is just waiting to see if they can push me into messing up.  A person can only deal with so much.  If I mess up and get angry they can give me another two years I have to do.  That means I can’t get my GED too. But she did say if I stayed out of trouble that next time I see them in March they will let me out.

What I hate so much is having to deal with this officer who is messing with my food.  It will probably get worse.  I promise you to do my best to stay focused. I’m going to try to get sent to another unit close to home. I don’t want to be in this one anymore.  I know there will be a few stumbles in the road as I go. I want to thank you for being there for me and encouraging me. I know things will get harder before they get easy. It always does. So I’m waiting for your visit. It will make it better for awhile.

 

Sonni’s Pinterest

Jamie Life in Prison at Facebook . . .Blog posts and news about injustice in the world

Piano Improv Music of Sonni Quick . . . New facebook page of the past and present

ReverbNation . . . Website of Indie music not on traditional radio stations. Sonni’s featured page.

SkunkRadioLive . . . Indie radio station out of London playing music composed for  the book being written for Jamie.  If you can, help support by sharing the music and leaving a comment or following. Thank you to those who have.

“Stories Without Words” by Sonni Quick

butterflies
(I forgot where I got this gif. If you know, contact me so I can add the credit)

This is my new album, a long time in the making. I have posted the music in posts since I started this blog, but now you can kick back and listen to it in it’s entirety. This is not the music for  for Jamie’s book, Inside The Forbidden Outside, also a long time in the making. That music has special meaning for certain chapters. When everything is done I mean for that music to be listened to while you read so you can feel the emotions of what he has been through all these years in prison.

Someone who hasn’t been through juvenile detention or prison, or doesn’t know someone who has been inside, can’t understand, not really. I never knew; how could I, if all I had to go on were TV shows or movies that never really told the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God? We assume we know, but we don’t. All of my writings, including the blog posts here are what I have learned over the years.

This first album has selections that have been recorded over the past three years as I developed my ability to improvise. You can  listen, but you can’t download it because I still need to copyright and license it. It will then be sold – hopefully. That is the plan. That is the mountain I am determined to move.
 
I believe my music has a different quality that is all my own because it is 100% improvised when I record, based on emotions I felt at the time. The second album will be a soundtrack for the book. I don’t believe anything like this has been done. A soundtrack for a book? Can I do it? This first album is a way of getting my feet wet and see if others  enjoy listening to what I play. Will other people see the value in it? If you want to, leave comments at the different music websites so I know.
 
The music comes from a place in me I didn’t know was there. How can music be played with a beginning, middle and end with a recurring feel and theme without knowing what is going to be played – and plan of what is coming next? I feel it and let my hands play it. Most of the time I don’t listen back for days or even weeks. I want to listen to it as a stranger would.
 
If I do listen back right away it’s because it hit me hard and I had to hear what I played. It’s hard to explain. The piece “K’lee” did that to me.  I sit on a stool when I play. Almost standing. When I finished playing I felt like I had been punched in the gut and all the air was pushed out of me. It swallowed me. Where did that music come from? I grabbed my husband, who was walking through the room and made him listen. “Close your eyes. What do you see? Put it into words.” At first he said he did listen while I was playing it.  He said it was nice. I said, “No, listen to it – not passively.” He did. When it was over he thought for a minute, then described a sunrise, bursting in color as it broke the horizon. He did see it. It was really the first positive, real feedback I had gotten from him that told me he heard me.
How can I do that? I never used to write like this. I wrote songs. Although I do write poetry, where before I wrote lyrics, it is now the only way I play music.  I could never do cover tunes again. I have no interest in redoing someone’s music. Maybe someday, but not now – not to just get gigs. My goal is to play gigs again, but it is me they get, not my ability to copy other songs.
 
People like to hear old songs because of the memories that come with it. Oldies take you back to a time and let you relive a memory. If I don’t do cover music will that make it harder to find work? Maybe. It will depend on how well I brand myself and how people respond to my music. At this point in my life I think I’ve earned the right to play my music not copy something someone else wrote
 
Music is my passion. I hear it in everything, even when no one else can. I hear it in the air as life unfolds. Life events evokes emotion. If music surrounds something in our life and when we hear music that was played then it takes us immediately to that time and we let it wash over us. In those few moments we are once again at that age or in that time no matter how long ago it was.  We want to remember. Sometimes that memory is painful and sometimes it represents love. Music let’s us feel the emotion again however brief it is. At that moment it is real again.
 
After I record, the music is gone, out of my head. But I can play for hours going from one emotion to another. Sometimes I lose confidence and wonder if I can play ” on demand” for a couple hours so I go to the piano, and yes, I can do it. When I tap into this part of me that gives form to the emotions I feel, those feelings are real. I’m an overly emotional person. I rarely play happy music in a major key. I usually play in a minor key  which is often melancholy,  painful, aching and deep – yet peaceful and relaxing. Beautiful melodies. For me it is like meditating.
 
The best way to listen is in a dark room. Speakers on a device or laptop don’t play quality sounds. I tried ear buds. They were just as bad. The sounds were tinny, but maybe I used lousy earbuds. For me, head phones resonate with feeling – or if you  have good computer speakers. To feel the story in my music, listen to the entire thing. The end pulls the beginning back together. To not hear the entire story is like not finishing a book. I know this from my own listening when I hear it as a stranger, like you.
 
I have been writing music since I was a child and it has grown and changed as I’ve aged. I could hear and feel music then but didn’t know how to express it. I didn’t have the technical skill to play what I heard in my head. I knew had had to figure out how to let go, trust that my hands knew what to play. When we speak we don’t think of every letter in every word before for speak a sentence so we can structure our thoughts. We just speak. We trust that the words coming out will mean what we want them to mean. Music is a language.
 
During my life I learned everything I could, like a person learning to speak another language. I have written songs most of my life but for decades I can’t honestly say it came from inside me. They were written because technically I knew how to put them together because I knew the theory. My arrangements were very classically oriented. I wrote charts and piano arrangements for others, long before computers spit them out. Anyone can “learn” music theory and can practice until they are competent but take away the music and they can’t play something new.
 
Knowing music theory knowledge you can always always make it come out right.  But something will be missing. My improvisations don’t work right when I sit down at the keyboard without knowing the emotion of why I’m playing. I can’t force it. I might as well practice scales and finger exercises, which I often do.
 
There are different kinds of musicians. Those that practice until they can play a piece perfectly – like classical musicians. They are lost without the music. They learn the emotion of the music by reading the symbols on the music which tells them how to play the note; very softly (pp) or to linger a second (fermata) or gradually get louder (<).
 
Young musicians seek fame and fortune. They haven’t been players long enough. Musicians today often don’t take the time to learn their craft. So much is all electronic. Freddie the drum machine is used too much, not understanding drums is the heart beat. Drum machines are stale.  They don’t breath. There is no split section human element where a drum may be hit with a slightly different touch. I’d like to hear hip hop use a real drummer. That’s why most people my age don’t like it. There is no life. Just fast talking and a drum machine.
 
I ruined my voice singing in clubs. I pushed it too hard. Clubs were smoky.  I had to stop – for awhile, thought. I was arrogant. I could have continued and played keyboards. I had both a piano and a synth. But my ego didn’t want to be someone’s side man. I was used to fronting the band.
 
My life flew by while raising my kids. I began to get sick and doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong for a long time. I had Hepatitis C. It wasn’t well known then because AIDS dominated medical news. I tried the only possible remedy. Interferon with ribavirin. It made me very sick and it didn’t work. I didn’t know what else to do.
 
I packed up my life, my kids were grown, pulled a U-haul behind my white Mustang and drove from California to Key West. To start making money right away I got a job as asst manager at a Ripley’s Believe it Not Museum. I bought a bicycle for transportation. I took care of my health the best I could and went into denial. I moved many times in my life. If I needed to call any place home it would be Key West. I was there for ten years. I knew deep down I knew my health was in trouble.
 
My last paying gigs were in Key West in 2002. My voice couldn’t hold up. Callouses on my vocal cords would swell and nothing came out. I was a good player but there was something missing. I retired. I didn’t know how to play without singing. I was lost. I felt like my legs were cut off. I lost my identity. I had no right to call myself a musician anymore and that was devastating.
 
Two things happened that changed my life. I met Jamie in 2005. He was my daughter’s boyfriend. The second thing is my Hep C fell of a cliff and took me with it. Every possible thing that could go wrong, did go wrong. It became end stage liver disease, I developed two cancerous tumors and I swelled with 60 lbs of fluid and looked 9 months pregnant.
 
My husband and I decided, unfortunately, to move closer to my family which was within driving distance of a good hospital known for their transplant team. I say unfortunately because my family really didn’t want me there and let me know not to expect any help from them, or any help for my husband my husband. I was bedridden for two years. Soon after surgery my back fractured so add a back brace to the mix. But I didn’t die and things began to change. After it seemed pretty certain I was going to make it the doctors explained how close I came to not making it.
 
Beginning in Key West Jamie and I had been writing letters. I was his support in prison. He was getting no support, emotionally or financially from his family, either. How was he supposed to buy hygiene products or stamps? Why won’t anyone answer his letters. How was he to handle his depression. A 17 year sentence is a long time if you have no one. We became reach other’s family. It will be 13 years in January. He’s in the home stretch.
 
I sat down at the piano one day, sad, thinking about what Jamie was going through. I wasn’t thinking about writing music in any particular key, I just played how I felt. It was amazing. My hands DID know what they were doing without my telling them what to play. I had no way to record it. I put a recording app on my Nook and put it close to the speaker. It would have to do. It sounded so tinny. This is the first piece I recorded in 2014.
I titled it “Jamie”
After that I got a better program and recorded it into my computer. Then I bought a better piano. I got better. My piano improv tells stories. You can’t tap a beat with your foot. I play with a lot of syncopation. Sometimes I hit a wrong note. It now belongs there. It took a long time to put this album together, choosing what to put in You won’t know why certain songs were played. I always record when I play. I don’t keep everything. Now I am learning what to do to license and copyright and sell it on any of the music sites like CDBaby or iTunes. I don’t know if anyone would want to buy it. But if I don’t try then I can know for sure that no one would buy it.
The benefit of getting sick and living through something brutally hard, was I now appreciated the value of living on a whole different level. Life isn’t to be wasted. There are no do-overs. We shouldn’t worry about what others think because they don’t live our lives, we do. It’s our life to live. Do what makes you happy. Don’t live with fear. We’re all going to die anyway. So here I am, 63 and I “unretired” my music career.
Sonni Quick improv piano
I recently had a photo shoot and there were several shots of just my hands on the keyboard. My husband said, “Don’t use them, your hands look old.” So what? They still work. I can’t pretend I’m in my 30’s, because I’m not – and I’m going to get older. I had to get over that thought real fast or it could make me cave in to it.
 
Last year I had my upper arm bone replaced with titanium as well as my elbow. I was told by my doctor,  “Don’t be  disappointed if you can’t use it,” He was trying to make me accept the fact that I was screwed. I wasn’t going to let it beat me. I am who I am and my music is what it is because of what I’ve been through during these years I lived. I’m not done yet. My age is a positive, not a negative. I’m going to play music until my fingers fall off.
 
Oh yes, I’m a bit crazy. I have plans. I’m alive. I don’t care if it is hard. Don’t tell me I can’t do something. It is up to me to decided that. If I didn’t believe in myself I’d stop trying. It took me this long to understand – you have to know where you are going or your life will just slap you around. It doesn’t matter if I’m not young. Youth is not the ball and end all of life, and life is over just because I’m getting older. Wisdom and life experience also has it’s place.
 
For whatever reason, Jamie and I met at a point in our lives that was the right time. We needed each other to survive. The road we need to travel is far from over. I’ve helped him keep it together. He gave me a purpose. Along the way I’ve been able to encourage many others going through this very same thing as their husband, children or boyfriend has gotten sucked into the system. There are millions of people who have been thrown away, many of them should not  have been.
 
I don’t think Jamie would have been okay. Knowing there is someone on the outside who cares has given him the strength to keep trying.  He has no idea any of the things I’ve done except what I have described it to him. He said, in his last letter, he would someday hear me play the piano. We have given each other something to live for.
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If you know an inmate who writes poetry or is an artist or has a story you’d like to tell you can email me at: itfonews@gmail.com

Sonni’s Pinterest

Jamie Life in Prison at Facebook . . .Blog posts and news about injustice in the world

Piano Improv Music of Sonni Quick . . . New facebook page of the past and present

ReverbNation . . . Website of Indie music not on traditional radio stations. Sonni’s featured page.

SkunkRadioLive . . . Indie radio station out of London playing music composed for  the book being written for Jamie.  If you can, help support by sharing the music and leaving a comment or following. Thank you to those who have.

Life on the Sex Offender Registry

I saw this video today. It hurt to watch it. I know a woman who has a son who was turned into a poster boy and given 20 years in prison for touching the breasts of an underage girl at a party. Unfortunately, this girl didn’t look like a minor and it was with her okay. They were playing games at a party. It was not okay with her parents when they found out. He got 10 years for each breast. His parents were shocked. He was getting ready to go to college so he, too, was pretty young. It snow balled out of control. His life is ruined. His education is ruined. Growing up, having a family of his own is ruined. His parents can now only see him a couple hours at a time in a prison waiting room. They can no longer share birthdays and holidays. Being convicted of a sex crime, in prison with men who can only have sex by using or raping other men puts a big target on his back. Will he get through 20 years without being raped? A pretty young virgin boy? Not likely.

Was this the only option? Should he be ruined for being a sexually inexperienced boy who wanted to do what all straight makes crave – to touch a girl’s breasts. Is he a monster? Someone to be afraid of? Someone who can’t be allowed into a park or live near a school when he is released from prison – middle aged? Everyone convicted of a sex crime, no matter what it is, is lumped together in one basket that says “Sexual Predator For the Rest of Their Lives”

Yet so many real sexual predators, like our president, who admits he can get away with anything, even p*ssy grabbing women, has no repercussions. “I’m a star!” he says. Why can he do that and others, who aren’t using their money and “stardom” to assault people, end up in prison and/or branded for life as a pervert.

Men like Bill O’reilly are walking free. Roger Ailes had people looking the other way even though they knew what he was doing. Bill Cosby couldn’t get convicted even though he admitted he drugged women and then raped them when they were unconscious.

But the woman in this video, who was underage herself had sex with an underage boy, who wanted to have sex with her, has had her life ruined by his mother. What happened to him, I wonder? Was he charged with anything or was only she punished for the rest of her life?

Neither of them should have been punished with a felony. Maybe it was the parent’s fault for not teaching their children responsible behavior. This is a law that needs changing. The punishment does not fit the crime. There are real sexual predators, and their are people like this woman and my friend’s son. There is no fairness in our justice system.

Is this boy’s mother in the video proud of what she did? Teenagers are horny. Their hormones are kicking in. Did anyone get hurt? My 41 year old son told me he lost his virginity when he was 12 to a much older girl. Would I have pressed charges had I known? No. We would have had a serious talk about pregnancy and STDs. Kids will have sex whether we like it or not. I had sex with my 16 yr old boyfriend when I was 16. My parents found out. It was awhile before they let us be alone when he came over, but it didn’t stop us outside the house. She they have had him arrested? Or should I have been arrested?  Why should any of these kids been arrested?

What part of society is served when this can’t get a good job or raise her children the best way for them? Who does it hurt if she can’t even take them to a park or take a trip and go out of state? Is she a danger to children? I’m surprised they let her be a mother and didn’t take her children away and adopt them out to more “suitable” parents. But CPS is a subject for another day.

Please share this video with your own contacts. When you can, take a stand.

 

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If you know an inmate who writes poetry or is an artist or has a story you’d like to tell you can email me at: itfonews@gmail.com

Sonni’s Pinterest

Jamie Life in Prison at Facebook . . .Blog posts and news about injustice in the world

Piano Improv Music of Sonni Quick . . . New facebook page of the past and present

ReverbNation . . . Website of Indie music not on traditional radio stations. Sonni’s featured page.

SkunkRadioLive . . . Indie radio station out of London playing music composed for  the book being written for Jamie.  If you can, help support by sharing the music and leaving a comment or following. Thank you to those who have. It will all help Jamie in the end when he gets out of prison. I’m trying to create avenues of income because getting a job after prison without even a GED is nearly impossible. The more people know about these projects I’m working on the more people there will be to buy the book and the music – and in general be there for emotional support. Knowing people care makes a big difference.

I’m going to Texas in a couple days to hopefully have three visits with him, the first visit in a year. We will talk about the book and tie the chapters together with information that is hard for him to write in letters. Then I will finish pounding out this revision, send it to an editor and see what needs to be re written. The process of writing a book is more than I ever realized at first, but I want it done right. To do that – I work on getting to know people who care. Some have a loved one or friend in prison, too. This is why I constantly tell people about ITFO News and ask them to subscribe. They get to follow the progress and often share an issue.  Reach issue focuses on a different prison issue. The last issue was seen by over 2500 people.

I had a book give-away my last issue, of ten signed copies titled “Waiting on the Outside” by Sharron Grodzinsky. I will be contacting those people for their physical addresses very soon. You can also purchase the book at Amazon.

Thanks for reading!

From Prison to Ph.D.: The Redemption and Rejection of Michelle Jones

Who decides – and how is it decided if someone shows the “required” degree of horror in a crime that was committed decades ago? It can’t be undone – so shouldn’t the decision be based on the actions of that human being during the decades she paid in prison to become a better human being? What are the causes she made that would have an effect on society in a positive way? There have been light sentences given to white people of prominence that amounted to a slap on the wrist because a heavier, appropriate sentence might adversely affect their life, education or career. The man – a Rothschild I think, or another family of that economic status, that sexually molested his infant daughter and was caught by his wife. All he got was mandatory counseling. What degree of horror did he show? Michelle Jones is a remarkable woman and her acceptance at a university after release should be based on her accomplishments now – not judged on whether she showed an adequate degree of emotion over what happened. That sentence was carried out. End of story. Oh, that’s right. She’s black. And she wants to go to a white ivy league college. Of course, everything would be done to stop her until they ran out of options.

Please go to the original post to read, comment and share.

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Go to Jamie’s facebook page to read other posts and article of injustice to educate yourself to what is really happening outside of the garbage opinions posted by sites like Fox News.

Follow the twitter page as well.

We have heard a lot about “fake news” sites since Trumps arrival in politics, mostly because he wants people to believe the things printed about himself aren’t true. I read all sites and compare what they say and follow up with it. I don’t believe anything just because I read it somewhere. The websites I have found I can trust are:

Truthdig    Truthout    Commondreams    Alternet

Start with these and compare what Fox News writes – if they write about these news stories at all. This admin is tearing America apart.  Racism is worse. People being killed because of it has risen.  We can’t afford to not understand all sides of the story and create a truth over just a piece, and twist it into a truth that doesn’t exist – like what Trump did to the truth over why the NFL players were kneeling.  If you don’t take the time to learn then the fabric of what is left of our country will be completely ripped. The way black people are treated in society – in prison – and continually made to come in second is adding to our destruction as a country. This story – this very story – is evidence of that.

 

Moorbey'z Blog

Michelle Jones, a Ph.D. candidate at N.Y.U., was released from prison in August after serving 20 years. CreditDamon Winter/The New York Times

Michelle Jones was released last month after serving more than two decades in an Indiana prison for the murder of her 4-year-old son. The very next day, she arrived at New York University, a promising Ph.D. student in American studies.

In a breathtaking feat of rehabilitation, Ms. Jones, now 45, became a published scholar of American history while behind bars, and presented her work by videoconference to historians’ conclaves and the Indiana General Assembly. With no internet access and a prison library that hewed toward romance novels, she led a team of inmates that pored through reams of photocopied documents from the Indiana State Archives to produce the Indiana Historical Society’s best research project last year. As prisoner No. 970554, Ms. Jones also wrote several dance…

View original post 2,166 more words

The Missing Verse of the Star Spangled Banner

Black soldiers fought with the British for teir freedom. Wouldn’t you? The Promised they would not be forced to be returned to the owners – as if people owning people was ever okay. Even as late as last year, Republican politicians in the south were trying to change the school history books, rewriting history, promoting the fallacy that slaves really had it pretty good. Well fed and dressed. They forgot about the raped, beatings and selling family members and never seeing them again.

This weekend, my mother was visiting and was reading a book history book titled “Mirrors”. She was shocked to realize that slavery in America lasted over 400 years. She didn’t know.

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Complete version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” showing spelling and punctuation
from Francis Scott Key’s manuscript in the Maryland Historical Society collection.

O say can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming,

Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight
O’er the ramparts we watch’d were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket’s red glare, the bomb bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,

O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream,
‘Tis the star-spangled banner – O long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore,
That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion
A home and a Country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash’d out their foul footstep’s pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their lov’d home and the war’s desolation!
Blest with vict’ry and peace may the heav’n rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserv’d us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto – “In God is our trust,”
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

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It is obvious, it is not in Trump’s best interest to tell the truth about why the NFL players are kneeling and what it stands for. In addition, Trump has often let words come out of his mouth about things he really knows nothing about. His ignorance is often astounding. He repeats lies so often his base thinks it’s the truth. All of the people who join him in bashing the NFL players and calling them names without ever actually attempting to understand why it was happening is just as ignorant as he is.

It easily showed who the real hidden racists are. Many of them call themselves Christians, but I sincerely doubt that this behavior is taught in Christians teachings. Even the simple teaching taught to children called, “The Golden Rule”, says to treat people the way you want to be treated. Why is that taught? Does it matter? What happens when we treat people badly? This Christian teaching gives you the answer: “You reap what you sow.”

Do you believe that? Do you think it applies to you? All of the time or some of the time? Do these rules – these teachings – apply to the way white people treat black people or do you think America should be white again, when it was never white in the first place? Do you think being white has privileges? You know it does. It shouldn’t, but as long as you are white you don’t care.

America still treats Indians as though they are worthless and white people are better. We destroyed them. We invaded and conquered them in true Christian fashion. People who insist America is a Christian nation yet does horrible things to people who aren’t white even though their religion teaches them there will be repercussions to the things they do, they do it anyway, as if their God will applaud their bad behavior against people who are also made in his image – so the teachings go.

I have listened to white Christians online the past few years, on up to this national anthem incident as they spit hateful names at black people, following the hateful comments by our hateful president who has bashed all races, and women, since his presidential campaign started. We sat shocked at the filth that spewed from his mouth. Surely this wouldn’t be allowed to continue. Everything that has followed from the beginning of the destruction of our public school system to wanted money from Medicare to build his dam wall, terrorizing Hispanics who’ve lived here most of their lives as well as the Muslims, taking away the chip program for low income and single mothers, destroying the EPA and allowing more toxins into our air and water – and the list goes on. – and there are people who approve?!

Those of us who know right from wrong were amazed that so many people hated America so much and held inside themselves the same views he held.

I sat one day with a feeling of dread and typed the words, “How will we be able to put the hate back in the bottle now that this despicable abuser has said it’s okay to hurt people.” In addition, he openly installed leaders of the KKK in his cabinet. Mass killings have escalated. He will do NOTHING except what the NRA wants.

My children are grown. When they were young I would not allow them to have play guns of any kind. The more guns there are, the more mentally unbalanced and drunk (mostly) men will use them. Ask my sister. Her husband, in one of his drunken stupers got his gun out and waved it around. He spent 11 days in jail before he could post bail. If he were black it would have been a lot longer, if bail would have even been offered. My sister bought a gun to carry in her purse because she was afraid of him. What part of the second amendment does that apply to? Why should you have to protect yourself from your husband? But everything is okay now. He decided to become a Christian, at least in front of people, and the story of what happened that night changed and a new truth was born.

What do I do with my good Christians friends who spew Trump’s hatred? I am not including all Christians here. Each person has the right to practice any faith they choose that they believe makes sense to them and helps their life. But that does not mean it is okay to hurt people who are not like you. And if you are going to be hateful – without investigating the things you say are true, and instead allow yourself to be lead around by the nose to support a president who clearly has some problems mentally, then you will be thought of in the same light as he is. He has the lowest rating of any president in a very long time. There is a reason for that. 

Support him if you want – but research what you think you believe. The national anthem is not what you think and you need to find the truth. I stopped pledging the flag about 40 years ago when I found out it had been changed. Do you know that? Do you know why? 

I am proud of the NFL players. Black people have been trying for along time to get the attention and be recognized as equal human beings and nothing worked. If you don’t support this – I mean, really support this, and not just lip service – then the line is drawn in the sand for me. 

I have black grandchildren. Real people. I won’t tolerate anyone thinking they are better than they are in any way. You can’t straddle the middle of the fence. You can’t think you are superior to my family or anyone else who isn’t white.

I am ashamed of this man who is supposed to be “my” president, whose lack of real compassion prompts him to talk about people like the uncouth person he is.

 

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