Building the power to win public power  - The failures of our current energy system are all around us. Here in New York City we see blackouts every summer during heatwaves and people lacking heat in the winter. Utility debt is mounting across the state, but investor owned utilities are still building dirty fossil fuel infrastructure at the expense of rate payers, and the health and safety of communities and the climate. Today we’ll talk with Mohini Sharma and Patrick Robbins about how the NY Public Power Coalition is building power across the state to pass two bills later this year that will replace corporate utilities with a democratically controlled, publicly owned energy system.

By John Forte

“… we never talked about men or clothes or other such inconsequential things when we got together. It was always Marx, Lenin, and revolution—real girl’s talk.”[1]

Nina Simone, I Put a Spell On You: The Autobiography of Nina Simone

Black women’s interest in the intersection between anti-racism, socialism, and women’s emancipation – or ‘Black left feminism’ – came to prominence during the era of the Great Depression. This politics was shaped by the Communist Party (CP), but developed its own form of street politics, deepened theories of women’s oppression, and put black women at the center of the class struggle. Their work with the International Labor Defense, Unemployed Councils, Tenants Unions, and other CP-affiliated organizations carved out a space for their own interests.

Through their lived experiences, they challenged traditional conceptions of black womanhood. They theorized intersections between race, class, and gender that demonstrated the unique revolutionary capabilities and internationalism of black women. Overall, the tradition of black left feminism demonstrates a different path forward for radicals and activists today.

Grace Campbell’s work with the Harlem Tenants League (HTL) situated her as a pioneering figure of black left feminism. Formed in January 1928, the HTL reflected black women’s unique interest in addressing the basic needs of the working-class. Its activities included demonstrations, rent strikes, physically blocking evictions, and fighting for housing regulations to be enforced through direct action. Its rhetoric connected housing issues to the interlocking oppressions of imperialism, capitalism, and white supremacy.

The HTL became the model for Unemployment Councils — some of the most popular organizing platforms during the height of the Great Depression. With as many as 500 members, the female-led HTL connected everyday experiences to capitalism by focusing on cost-of-living issues that directly impacted working families.[2] This suggests that black women organizers recognized a different method of raising class consciousness, which brought an entirely new swath of people into the left.

Campbell’s published a column titled “Women in Current Topics” in the New York Age, which argued that the criminal justice system functioned primarily to reproduce hierarchies’ of race, class, and gender. She noted that institutional oppression reproduced stereotypes about poor black women as criminal and deviant.[3] This work was ahead of its time, as it predated studies that connected the ideology of the ruling class to the prison-industrial-complex. Campbell was one of the first black left feminists to argue that the hyper-exploitation of black women made them the vanguard for social change.

The International Trade Union Committee of Negro Workers (ITUCNW) represented the Communist International’s highest commitment to Pan-Africanism. Burroughs served on the ITUCNW’s Provisional Executive Committee, which organized the group’s founding conference in Hamburg, Germany. Internal reports in preparation for the conference reveal that she pushed the organization to address child labor. Furthermore, she wanted it to organize black female industrial laborers across the United States and the Caribbean.

Burroughs pointed to the fact that “Negro women among whom are a large number of foreigners from the Caribbean, themselves suffer from imperialism.”[4] To her, opposing colonialism was central to advancing the status of black women in America. Internationalist politics offered a means to capture women’s cultural imagination through the African Diaspora and prove that a new world was possible.

In November of 1930, Williana Burroughs wrote an article for the Negro Worker on the importance of the ITUCNW to the black freedom movement. She explicitly called for workers in Britain and the United States to unite with workers in the colonies. Showing the depth of her analysis, she detailed American imperialism’s penetration into Africa with statistics of investments in Belgian copper mines in the Congo and Firestone’s investments in Liberia.[5] Her analysis showed a keen understanding of finance capital’s role in imperialism. Also, she called on the left press to pay closer attention to international workers’ struggles:

The Negro workers in America know very little about the heroic fight of the Chinese workers, very little about the revolutionary movement of the workers of India; they know almost nothing of the movement in South Africa, simply because our press is very small and very weak.[6]

Burroughs concluded with a demand that workers in the west “make real to the workers in the colonies the solidarity of the workers of the world.”[7] Despite her calls for internationalism, her article did not pay specific attention to women of color. Perhaps her articles were limited by men who dominated leftist editorial boards. In 1937, Williana Burroughs returned to the Soviet Union to work with English-language broadcasts in Moscow where her two children were enrolled in school.[8] All in all, Williana Burroughs was a figure who attempted to build international bridges between workers in the United States, Soviet Russia, and the third world. Still, other women argued more explicitly for the position of black women.

In her 1936 piece “Toward a Brighter Dawn,” Louise Thompson Patterson cast light on the special oppression that black women faced as domestic workers. Through her lyrical tone, she described their soul-breaking work:

Early dawn on any Southern road. Shadowy figures emerge from the little unpainted, wooden shacks alongside the road. There are Negro women trudging into town to the Big House to cook, to wash, to clean, to nurse children – all for two, three, dollars for the whole week. Sunday comes – rest day. But what rest is there for a Negro mother who must crowd into one day the care of her own large family? Church of course, where for a few brief hours she may forget, listening to the sonorous voice of the pastor, the liquid harmony of the choir, the week’s gossip of neighbors. But Monday is right after Sunday, and the week’s grind begins all over.[9]

To Thompson, the pain and suffering these women endured was emblematic of employers’ views that domestic workers were less than human. Sunday was both a blessing and a curse. It was the day for unpaid housework for the family, but also a day of spiritual rejuvenation and collective joy. In comparison, Thompson described domestic work in Northern cities using the image of the “slave market”:

So thrifty “housewives” drive sharper bargains. There are plenty of women to choose from. And every dollar saved leaves that much more for one’s bridge game or theater party! The Bronx “slave market” is a graphic monument to the bitter exploitation of this most exploited section of the American working population – the Negro women.[10]

With a sarcastic tone, Thompson damned middle class white women for their selfish materialism and hypocritical exploitation of black domestics. The symbolism of the slave market was not hyperbole. The Great Depression hit African Americans disproportionately hard. On equal grounds, black domestic workers had to compete with white women who fell on hard times.[11] Middle class white women took advantage of this increased competition in what Ella Baker and Marvel Cooke referred to as “the Bronx slave market.” Their 1935 article for the NAACP’s The Crisis was a watershed expose of domestic workers lives, but it did not explicitly theorize interlocking oppressions facing poor black women.[12]

Driven by this rising consciousness, many black women joined organizations like the NAACP, the Communist Party, and the Domestic Workers Union (DWU) — which was formed in June of 1936 in New York City and quickly totaled around one thousand members.[13] Their anger against social and economic injustice fueled collective action.

It was Louise Thompson Patterson’s coining of the phrase “triple exploitation” that was most notable. In “Toward a Brighter Dawn,” she remarked that “over the whole land, Negro women meet this triple exploitation — as workers, as women, and as Negroes. About 85 per cent of all Negro women workers are domestics, two-thirds of the two million domestic workers in the United States.”[14] This was a clear expression of intersectionality — the overlapping of different identities without viewing them in isolation.

In addition, this was one of the first uses of the term “triple oppression.”[15] In Patterson’s view, the remedy for black women’s oppression was solidarity. Progressive-minded women, both white and black, had to show support for each other without sadness or pessimism. Her experience with the Women’s Sub-Session at the National Negro Congress in 1936 sparked this realization. She recalled that “women from all walks of life, unskilled and professional, Negro and white women found themselves drawn together, found that they liked being together, found that there was hope for change in coming together.”[16] In other words, collective organizing was the means to develop a consciousness that viewed race, class, and gender as inseparable.

In a mass action known as the “Revolt of the Housewives,” working class organizer Bonita Williams led hundreds of working-class women in Harlem — both black and white — against exorbitant meat prices. By the spring of 1935, butcher prices rose over fifty percent in most Harlem neighborhoods. Recognizing this issue, Williams formed the Harlem Action Committee in June of 1935.[17] Through this committee, women met in churches, lodges, and prayer meetings to discuss direct action. An article in New Masses published that year on June 18, reported that “women who have never ventured farther than a neighbor’s flat to voice their views, have flung themselves into the activities of the meat strike.”[18] This action galvanized housewives into militant action.

Open air meetings and elections for local committees against the high price of meat erupted across the city. An article in New Masses depicted this new unity:

In Harlem, where the unemployment rate – and the food prices – are higher than anywhere else in the city, three hundred Negroes, mainly women, stand before a single butcher shop and chant “Don’t Buy Meat Until the Price Comes Down!” “Don’t Buy Meat Until the Price Comes Down!!”[19]

In many cases, meat retailers closed their doors. Other butchers actually joined demonstrations against wholesalers and suppliers. In the aftermath of strikes, marches, and picketing, meat prices fell as far as Chicago, with local newspapers reporting that the New York Action Committee Against the High Cost of Living was to blame. As many as 300 butchers agreed to close their stores to pressure wholesalers to lower their prices as much as twenty-five percent.[20]

The most significant effect of the “Revolt of the Housewives” was on the rising expectations of working women in Harlem. During the protests, women connected meat prices to malnutrition and children’s health. One organizer proclaimed “this is a fight for the right to eat — for the right to feed our children. Isn’t it so, sisters?” Housewives aggressively pressured men who owned butcher shops. Unrepentantly, one woman told a butcher “we do hope you’ll cooperate with us. Because, you see, if you don’t, the women will picket your place. You wouldn’t want that. So, we’ll both cooperate.”

In another instance, a housewife signaled the influence of internationalism in Harlem’s diverse communities, proclaiming “that’s the way to do it — fight for your rights! That’s the way they do it where I come from — in Panama!”[21] Not only did street politics arouse a strong sense of class consciousness, they encouraged women to assert Pan-African unity. Bonita Williams’s fearless organizing represented black left feminism’s ability to mend a deeply divided American working class.

Audley Moore was inspired to become active in CP circles when she saw a rally for the Scottsboro Boys in New York City. She was amazed by the number of white people she saw chanting “Death to the Lynchers!” and immediately joined in. She fought for the removal of racist principals and against corporal punishment with the Harlem Committee for Better Schools. Formed in 1935, this committee was composed of community members and radical Jewish teachers who were shocked by physical decay and blatant racism in schools.[22]

In other cases, principles concerned with white teachers’ attitudes towards black students asked Moore for help. She recalled that “the white teachers used to call our children *****, in the classroom. Yes, they did. The white teachers used to fling books across the room and have the blood gushing.” Whether this was exaggeration or not, the issue was personal for Moore, given her lack of educational opportunity as a child. Connecting these issues to racial advancement, she pointed out that “it’s so disheartening to see our children come into school in first grade all bright eyed, eager, hungry to learn, and go out drooping in sixth grade.”[23] CP organizers such as Moore pushed to prioritize everyday conditions of working African Americans.

Additionally, Audley Moore was at the forefront of struggles for tenants’ rights and better hospital conditions. During the height of the Great Depression, struggles against evictions and for better housing conditions were a major activity. With the Consolidated Tenants League, Party activists such as Moore helped organize marches against high rents and for the construction of additional public housing. They carried out rent strikes against rent increases and poor conditions in buildings.[24]

Self-educated Party members from working class backgrounds were quick to recognize the importance of these actions. Moore stated “the first strikes we had, I organized ’em. I mean, I was organizing the houses when I joined the Communist Party. I was right in the process of organizing the houses.[25] In addition to poor housing, African Americans in Harlem faced poor conditions in neighborhood hospitals. The issue of inadequate public resources was more than a depression-era problem; it was an issue of racial discrimination:

we had to fight to get black nurses in Harlem hospitals, and we had to fight for decent treatment, every day, every day, every day was a struggle. We had to fight to get black doctors in Harlem hospitals. It was something. even to get clean sheets on the receiving table. There were dirty and bloody sheets and they didn’t mind putting you right on somebody else’s blood.[26]

Audley Moore’s movement building helped push the Harlem Communist Party closer to the people. As she remarked, “every struggle was Communist initiated.” Blacks in Harlem had a sense of this and the Party was generally well received. Moore pointed out that “our people didn’t have the red scare like the white people had it. The party did so much positive things, fought so hard, against Jim Crow, and so on.”[27] Further, the Party’s devotion to internationalism and anti-fascism inspired other grassroots efforts. Moore eventually left the party due to her growing commitment to black nationalism, but she argued that the Party’s class analysis was its greatest gift.

Communist Party leadership never let go of the notion that working-class men in industry were the vanguard of the revolution. Black left feminists argued otherwise.

In doing so, they pushed the Communist Party further to the left. Their politics united working people by directly addressing their needs, while it emphasized the hyper-exploitation of black women as domestic workers and redefined the notion of ‘black womanhood.’ In their eyes, black women were exceptionally militant, vital to the community, and capable of connecting to African American cultural traditions. Internationalism, anti-fascism, and anticolonialism came naturally to these women, as they lived lives that were simultaneously American and immigrant West Indian. They used institutions of the political left to hone their unique talents and show that women’s liberation was not something that had to wait to be achieved after the revolution.

Bibliography

Adams, Mary. “The Negro Movement in North and Latin America.” The Negro Worker III, no. Special, November 1, 1930.

Baker, Ella, and Marvel Cook. “The Slave Market.” The Crisis. November 1935, 42 edition. https://caringlabor.wordpress.com/2010/11/24/ella-baker-and-marvel-cooke-the-slave-market/.

Barton, Anna. “Revolt of the Housewives.” New Masses. June 18, 1935, Vol. 15 edition, sec. No. 12. https://www.marxists.org/history/usa/pubs/new-masses/1935/v15n12-jun-18-1935-NM.pdf.

Farmer, Ashley D. Remaking Black Power: How Black Women Transformed an Era. Chapel Hill, NJ: University of North Carolina Press, 2019.

Gilkes, Cheryl Townsend. Audley Moore. Other. Black Women Oral History Project. Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study at Harvard University, June 8, 1978. https://sds.lib.harvard.edu/sds/audio/460147962.

Harris, Lashawn. “Running with the Reds: African American Women and the Communist Party during the Great Depression.” The Journal of African American History 91, no. 1 (2008): 21–43. https://doi.org/https://www.jstor.org/stable/25610047?seq=1.

Makalani, Minkah. “An Apparatus for Negro Women: Black Women’s Organizing, Communism, and the Institutional Spaces of Radical Pan-African Thought.” Women, Gender, and Families of Color 4, no. 2 (2016): 250. https://doi.org/10.5406/womgenfamcol.4.2.0250.

McDuffie, Erik S. Sojourning for Freedom: Black Women, American Communism, and the Making of Black Left Feminism. Durham: Duke University Press, 2011.

Moore, Audley. Audley (Queen Mother) Moore. Other. Communist Party Oral Histories. NYU’s Tamiment Library, July 17, 2017. https://wp.nyu.edu/tamimentcpusa/audley-queen-mother-moore/.

Naison, Mark D. The Communist Party in Harlem during the Depression, 1928-1936. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2005.

Patterson, Louise Thompson. “Toward a Brighter Dawn.” Woman Today, April 1936. https://www.viewpointmag.com/2015/10/31/toward-a-brighter-dawn-1936/.

Pearl, Jeanette D. “Negro Women Workers.” Daily Worker. February 16, 1924, Volume 1 edition, sec. No. 341.

Prago, Ruth F. Louise Thompson Patterson. Other. Communist Party Oral Histories. NYU’s Tamiment Library, July 14, 2017. https://wp.nyu.edu/tamimentcpusa/louise-patterson/.

Simone, Nina. I Put a Spell on You: the Autobiography of Nina Simone; with Stephen Cleary. Cambridge (Massachussets): Da Capo Press, 2003.

Solomon, Mark I. The Cry Was Unity: Communists and African Americans, 1919-36. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1998.

Taylor, Clarence. Reds at the Blackboard: Communism, Civil Rights, and the New York City Teachers Union. New York: Columbia University Press, 2013.

---

[1] Simone, Nina. I Put a Spell on You: the Autobiography of Nina Simone; with Stephen Cleary. Cambridge (Massachusetts): Da Capo Press, 2003, 87.

[2] McDuffie, Sojourning for Freedom, 44-45.

[3] McDuffie, Sojourning for Freedom, 50-51.

[4] Makalani, “An Apparatus for Negro Women,” 266-267.

[5] Mary Adams, “The Negro Movement in North and Latin America,” The Negro Worker , November 1, 1930, pp. 23.

[6] Adams, “The Negro Movement in North and Latin America,” 24.

[7] Adams, 24.

[8] Solomon, The Cry Was Unity, 265.

[9] Louise Thompson Patterson, “Toward a Brighter Dawn,” Woman Today, April 1936, https://www.viewpointmag.com/2015/10/31/toward-a-brighter-dawn-1936/.

[10] Patterson, “Toward a Brighter Dawn.”

[11] Ashley D. Farmer, Remaking Black Power: How Black Women Transformed an Era (Chapel Hill, NJ: University of North Carolina Press, 2019), 23

[12] Ella Baker and Marvel Cook, “The Slave Market,” The Crisis, November 1935, 42 edition, https://caringlabor.wordpress.com/2010/11/24/ella-baker-and-marvel-cooke-the-slave-market/.

[13] McDuffie, Sojourning for Freedom, 116.

[14] Patterson, “Toward a Brighter Dawn.”

[15] Farmer, 27.

[16] Patterson, “Toward a Brighter Dawn.”

[17] McDuffie, Sojourning for Freedom, 85.

[18] Anna Barton, “Revolt of the Housewives,” New Masses, June 18, 1935, Vol. 15 edition, sec. No. 12, pp. 18-19, https://www.marxists.org/history/usa/pubs/new-masses/1935/v15n12-jun-18-1935-NM.pdf.

[19] Anna Barton, “Revolt of the Housewives.”

[20] Anna Barton.

[21] Anna Barton.

[22] Naison, Communists in Harlem During the Great Depression, 214.

[23] Audley Moore, Communist Party Oral Histories.

[24] Naison, 258-259.

[25] Audley Moore, Communist Party Oral Histories.

[26] Audley Moore.

[27] Audley Moore.

The end of prohibition in New Jersey and beyond should be a moment of healing rather than a money grab.

By Adam Uzialko

The War on Drugs will inevitably come to an end, but the multi-generational damage left in its wake will still remain. In cannabis legalization, the seeds of a post-War on Drugs world exist. But, like cannabis plants themselves, the industry that emerges from these seeds will be shaped by the conditions that surround it. 

The emerging legal cannabis industry must promote healing and reparation rather than reinforcing exclusion and perpetuating the harm wrought by prohibition era policies. In New Jersey, where lawmakers now work to craft a legal framework for adult-use cannabis, it is critical that social equity advocates continue to use their voice to shape the industry.

New Jersey and cannabis legalization: What was proposed, and what changed?

New Jersey won a major victory in the movement for drug reform when voters approved a cannabis legalization referendum on Election Day. At this pivotal time, it is important to remember that the first steps toward ameliorating the decades of harm caused by prohibition begins with establishing an equitable cannabis industry coupled with public investment in rebuilding communities targeted by the War on Drugs.

The first cannabis bills proposed by lawmakers fell short of the mark. 

The bills, A-21 and S-21, lacked critical social equity measures that were included in other state-legal programs throughout the country. The bills:

• Failed to allocate cannabis-derived tax revenue to communities targeted under the War on Drugs;
• Established law enforcement training programs to identify and apprehend high drivers, funding these programs through cannabis-derived tax revenue;
• Lacked any social equity designations for licensing, such as reduced application fees for BIPOC applicants;
• Narrowly defined “impact zones” as towns with a population of 120,000 or more that ranked in the top 40% of possession arrests. Dispensaries would open in these impact zones first, but no tax revenue would be allocated for community programs and services.

Naturally, social equity advocates (including many directly involved in the cannabis industry) recoiled at this prospect. More than a dozen cannabis businesses and industry organizations signed onto a letter dated Dec. 7 that demanded several revisions to the original bill, including:

• Social equity excise fee: Advocates called on lawmakers to include a social equity excise fee on cultivators, which would largely be directed toward impact zones recognized by the state as disproportionately impacted by the War on Drugs.
  
• Cannabis equity applicant status: Advocates also pursued social equity in terms of licensing, calling for the prioritization of licenses for individuals residing in impact zones and those with prior cannabis-related records.
  
• Removal of licensing caps: Advocates also sought the removal of licensing caps, arguing that less available licenses inevitably favored a limited group of well-connected individuals, and suggested that limiting the cultivation licenses could mean New Jersey failed to meet consumer demand when legal sales begin. 

Lawmakers were forced to go back to the drawing board to do better. 

On December 17, the New Jersey state legislature approved a package of bills, including a revised version of S-21, which establishes the legal framework for the industry. The revised version of S-21 includes the social equity fee advocates lobbied for, 70% of which would be directed toward the previously defined impact zones. However, it does not include a cannabis equity applicant status and would also cap the number of cannabis cultivation licenses in the state at 37 for the first two years of the industry’s existence.

S-21 passed in the Senate by a vote of 23 to 17, while the Assembly approved the bill by a vote of 49 to 24, with six abstentions.

The other bills, S-3256 and S-2875, reduce the penalties associated with possession of psilocybin mushrooms and allow investors to fund licenses for minorities, women, and disabled veterans, respectively.

Why is social equity in the cannabis industry important?

The outcry by social equity advocates in response to NJ legislators’ first attempt at drafting a bill begs the question “why should social equity be a priority in cannabis legalization at all?” The history of the War on Drugs is one of racist persecution and disproportionate enforcement targeting BIPOC communities.

Cannabis prohibition has played an important role in marginalizing these same communities long before the commencement of the War on Drugs, as well. In the lead up to the signing of the Marihuana Tax Act of 1937, the law that outlawed cannabis federally, anti-cannabis propaganda depicted Black people and immigrants as dangerous reefer fiends eager to commit violent crime and introduce drugs to white youth (spoiler alert: white youth already did drugs).

These origins contributed to unjust enforcement of short-sighted anti-drug policies, leading to a boom in incarceration and police budgets, not to mention the approval of increasingly aggressive tactics and violations of civil rights. 

In New Jersey, for example, a Black person is 3.5 times more likely to be arrested for cannabis possession than a white person, despite similar reported consumption rates across both demographics. Even as the national perspective toward cannabis softened, New Jersey stepped up that enforcement. 

From 2010 to 2018, cannabis possession arrests increased by 45.6%, the ninth fastest increase in the U.S. In 2018, New Jersey ranked 8^th in the nation for cannabis possession arrests per 100,000 people. That same year, the Garden State ranked 11^th in the nation for the rate of arrests of Black residents for cannabis possession. 

The legal cannabis industry could be a central component of ameliorating the historic harm caused by the War on Drugs. Cannabis legalization has set the tone for decriminalization of other drugs listed on the CSA, such as psilocybin, and the industry that emerges will help shape how we move on as a society from the War on Drugs. 

To this end, cannabis-derived tax revenue should be directed toward education, healthcare, and public services, particularly in the communities that were targeted for persecution under the War on Drugs. Licensing should be prioritized for those who have lived and worked in communities victimized by police, especially those who spent time incarcerated for non-violent cannabis-related crimes. 

In New Jersey and beyond, cannabis legalization should include:

• Automatic and immediate expungement for all non-violent cannabis-related convictions
• Social equity licensing considerations, such as application fee reduction or state-sponsored support for BIPOC applicants
• Prioritization of small business applications from state residents over large multi-state operators
• Allocation of cannabis-derived tax revenues for communities targeted under the War on Drugs

While some of that is present in the New Jersey bill now headed to Gov. Murphy’s desk, social equity advocates have their work cut out for them if we are to realize the full potential of what legalization means for social equity and justice.

What’s next for New Jersey cannabis legalization?

Bill S-21 (not yet signed by Gov. Phil Murphy at the time of this writing but expected to be signed shortly) establishes a legal framework under which the newly legal adult-use cannabis industry can evolve. And while advocates were successful in pushing lawmakers to include stronger social equity measures in their second draft of the bill, New Jersey’s cannabis legislation is far from perfect. However, the allocation of tax revenue to impacted communities represents a victory achieved only because of public demands for more impactful social justice measures. 

Moreover, the work of social equity advocates is far from finished. Even Senate President Stephen Sweeney admitted that “we will be back in a year or two saying ‘there was an unintended consequence,’ and we will fix that.” It is critical for proponents of social equity and racial justice to keep the pressure on from now until then, when additional social equity gains can be made.

The history of the War on Drugs is a blight on the human rights track record of the U.S. Not only has it been a gross violation of civil liberties, it has also been enforced in an intentionally racist manner. As drug laws are reformed across the country, it is critical that public policy stay closely linked to this fact. Only through an inclusive cannabis industry and public investment in community programs can the harm of prohibition begin to be repaired. 

Make no mistake, we’re building a new, post-War on Drugs world, and it starts with cannabis. It will take sustained pressure to ensure the legal cannabis industry is grounded in equality and solidarity.

Adam Uzialko is the co-founder and vice president of CannaContent, a digital marketing agency dedicated to hemp, CBD, and cannabis businesses. The opinions expressed in this article are his own.

A conversation with Shevone Torres

By W.B. Minerd

Black Lives Matter is an urgent and inspiring national movement, a reaction to far too many Black lives ending at the hands of an over-aggressive, racist American police force.

While most prominently known for their national protests, it’s important to understand what they’re working toward in local communities. They are trying to truly embody their name. Black lives matter everywhere, in South Jersey, and in a lot more places than major American cities.

Far, far too many Black lives are ended by police violence. But there are other dangers to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness lurking in the decrepit late-stage capitalism of twenty first century America. Poverty kills. Malnutrition kills. Lack of access to healthcare kills. And it kills more Black lives than others.

Shevone Torres is a core member of Black Lives Matter New Jersey. She is on the front lines of a battlefield that national figures too often ignore.  “We don’t just focus on police violence. It’s violence on Black people in general,” says Torres. “So, whether its food apartheid, whether its education, income inequality. These are things we want to change.”

These are things that are addressed with direct action, not just protests. 

“Tangible things that we can do now is establish community gardens, to give access to food, to fresh fruit and vegetables, to communities that live in food apartheid, where they have to travel miles to get to a grocery store. Another thing we can do is family dinners. We need to do smaller tangible things and have it snowball to something where it can actually make change throughout the state and throughout the country and hopefully globally.”

While mutual aid is a major focus, BLM NJ is also there to protest police violence, wherever it happens. On May 25^th 2020, George Floyd was killed by police in Minneapolis. On May 31^st and June 1^st, there were hundreds of protests across New Jersey.

Shevone was there. Protesting gave her a perspective on her neighbors. There is still much work to do, even in one of the bluest, most Democratic-leaning states in the country.

“South Jersey is in a precarious situation. You have some towns that are liberal, but for the most part you do have people in certain towns that are very conservative that still believe that we are a terrorist organization. Which, I don’t know any terrorist that actually feeds people and takes care of babies, but that’s just me,” says Torres.

“There is still a lot of work to be done, and in order to get that work done, people have to acknowledge that this is a real thing and that it’s actually happening. Until they can acknowledge it, there is going to be more performative action than actual tangible changes.”

Whether or not people can admit and understand that police violence against Black lives is real, it is still happening. On August 6^th of 2020, a 30-year-old man named Amir Johnson was walking in Ventnor. He was having a mental crisis, but his first contact was not with any mental health professional, it was with armed police. When Amir got agitated, the police tased him, then shot him. He died soon after.

I asked Shevone about him. She was too frustrated to answer. Decades of evidence, studies and statistics give her a good reason to be upset. If Amir were not Black, he had a better chance of surviving an encounter with police. 

She knows that Amir Johnson’s life mattered, and in a better world, he would be alive today.

“It’s not a choice for me. For Black people, this is an everyday thing. I can’t be black on Monday and a woman on Tuesday. For Black people, this is something we can’t walk away from.”

So, she and countless others keep working, to educate, to protest, and to perform direct action.

If you would like to donate, donate locally. Shevone recommends Surge New Jersey. And BLM NJ has a list at https://www.blmnj.com/donate.html.

“I can’t breathe.” Eric Garner said it before he was murdered by police in 2014, and George Floyd said it again in a chilling echo in 2020. 

Meanwhile, COVID-19 has stolen the breath from thousands of black New Jerseyans at a rate far higher than that of their White counterparts.

As of the beginning of December, New Jersey lost 17,306 lives to COVID. The population of New Jersey is about 8,882,000. That means nearly one out of every 500 New Jersey residents has died of COVID-19 complications.

The grief and loss have hit certain communities harder than others. This year, deaths among white New Jerseyans were up 28%. Death rates for Black New Jerseyans increased by 68%. Among Hispanics, deaths increased by 124%, and among Asians, 107%.

Black New Jerseyans make up 14% of the state population, but account for 21.3% of COVID-19 deaths. There are many reasons for this disparity, and it is unfortunately unsurprising that the racist structure of America has manifested itself in higher death rates. Black lives matter not only in terms of our white supremacist criminal justice system, but also in healthcare. We need to understand and address the reasons the pandemic has disproportionately harmed communities of color.

Race, Unemployment, and “Essential Workers”

During the pandemic, many businesses finally owned up to the fact that workers can perform their duties competently from home. (Incidentally, disability advocates have been arguing for remote work policies for years, so the increased accessibility of remote work seemed like a valid proposition to employers only when able bodies were threatened by the pandemic.)

However, we know that not every worker has that privilege. Many people lost their jobs due to the pandemic. Before COVID touched down, the Black unemployment rate nationally was 6.3%, but it would more than double in the coming months. In August, 7.3% of White Americans were unemployed, compared to 13% of Black workers. 

Healthcare is expensive, and health insurance in the United States is frequently tied to one’s employer – lose your job, and you can lose your health insurance. While uninsured New Jerseyans can take a PCR test at no cost through a federal program, you can’t currently self-pay for a rapid-result COVID test at CVS, locking the uninsured out of a test that could provide them fast answers and delaying both their medical care and self-isolation periods. The average hospital stay for COVID-19 will run you between $51,000 and $78,000, depending on your age. Kind of hard to swing without a job.

(In related news, we need Medicare For All.)

For many who remain employed, their jobs incur daily exposure to the virus. Compared to Whites, Black Americans make up a disproportionate number of essential workers in general, and emergency personnel, transportation and delivery workers, warehouse workers, and healthcare workers specifically. Similarly, Latinx workers make up a disproportion number of essential workers in general; and food and agriculture workers; industrial, commercial, and residential facilities and services workers; and critical manufacturing workers, specifically.

Race and Healthcare Disparities

Hospitalization rates for Black NJ residents are more than triple those of White New Jerseyans, and Latinx hospitalization rates are higher still. One reason for this is that those who are less likely to be insured are more likely to go to the hospital, due to a lack of (or inadequate) outpatient care services; in New Jersey, one out of 10 Black residents is uninsured, while one out of 5 Latinx residents has no health insurance, compared to one out of 20 Whites.

The material disparities between BIPOC and Whites in NJ, along with the stress of racial oppression, also contribute to a higher rate of preexisting conditions and risk factors among Black residents, including high blood pressure, asthma, and diabetes. Discrimination and mistreatment from healthcare providers also contribute to poorer quality healthcare and outcomes for Black Americans.

COVID, Race, and the Carceral State of New Jersey

39,000 New Jerseyans are incarcerated, and black incarceration rates in the state are more than nine times that of white New Jerseyans. While NJ passed legislation to release around 2,200 incarcerated people in November, the legislature still has not moved to release and expunge the records of marijuana offenders, despite the successful ballot measure legalizing cannabis. (Notably, the legislature moved a week later to draft a legalization bill that earmarked cannabis tax revenue to fund policing – fortunately, that bill was not passed.)

By November, more than 3,000 incarcerated people and 1,000 prison employees contracted the virus, which killed dozens of inmates. The cramped, poorly ventilated quarters of prison, as well as the inhumane ways our incarcerated neighbors are treated, create a perfect home for COVID-19.

Fact Check: Black Lives Matter Protests Did NOT Contribute to a Surge in COVID-19 Cases

This year was defined not only by a deadly pandemic, but also by greater public consciousness of police brutality and alignment with the Black Lives Matter movement, as BLM activists and supporters gathered in cities across the country to protest the extrajudicial execution of black Americans in general, and the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, specifically.

There was no shortage of public commentary critiquing these protests as being a vector for the spread of the virus, but research has shown that this was not the case. This exposes the public misunderstanding of the science of COVID-19. While any large gathering incurs risk of exposure and spread, outdoor gatherings are far safer than those indoors, especially if those participants are wearing masks. At these protests, activists distributed hand sanitizer, wore masks, and took other efforts to reduce the risk. As a result, BLM protests did not cause a spike in COVID cases.

Compare this to the Sturgis bike rally, attracting hundreds of thousands of gatherers – many refusing to wear masks – likely contributing to a surge in COVID cases across the Midwest. 

As of November, North Dakota had the highest per-capita COVID death rates in the world. Contact tracers, overwhelmed by cases, have been forced to reach out only to cases who tested positive with their self-isolation instructions – as of November, they had neither the time nor resources to reach out to their close contacts with quarantine instructions.

Government Has Abandoned Us – We Need Each Other

At no point during the United States’ history have we been able to trust the government to take care of people of color. The lack of a federal response to the COVID-19 pandemic has contributed to the loss of 281,000 American lives, including 17,306 just in New Jersey, at time of writing. Our country has experienced the highest number of COVID deaths in the world. Meanwhile, in New Jersey, tens of thousands of our citizens are incarcerated, indoor restaurants and bars are still open, and the virus shows no signs of slowing down.

The only chance we have right now is in each other. Our neighbors are being evicted. Others are dying. We must advocate for policies that reduce these racial disparities, improve material conditions for those suffering socioeconomically, and protect people with preexisting conditions. Apart from activism, mutual aid is necessary to our survival.

You can find a spreadsheet listing mutual aid organizations helping New Jerseyans hit hard by COVID at bit.ly/NJCovidMutualAid. If you would like to volunteer with the South Jersey Mutual Aid Network, or if you need assistance from them, you can access their contact form at bit.ly/SJMutualAidForm.

And of course, protect yourself and others by continuing to follow COVID-19 best practices as closely as possible. Only leave the house when unavoidable, and when you do, wear a mask. Avoid close contact with those outside of your household and avoid indoor gatherings. Wash your hands with soap and warm water for 30 seconds and use hand sanitizer when you cannot. Disinfect any surfaces you share with others.

Take care of yourself and those around you. We are all we have.

Madison Area DSA’s Labor Working Group will be hosting an online panel with workers from North Carolina Public Service Workers Union, (UE) Local 150 on Feb 1st, 2021 at 6:30pm. UE Local 150 is a public sector union in North Carolina, where collective bargaining in the public sector is illegal. Even without formal rights, the union has organized thousands of state and city workers, and won major victories including a $15 minimum wage for full-time state employees.

In Wisconsin, state workers effectively lost the right to collectively bargain in 2011, union membership has dropped by over 30 percent since. Madison DSA is hosting Local 150 to discuss the history of their union, how they’ve managed to build a vibrant union without bargaining rights, and their campaign to overturn racist Jim Crow laws preventing the fundamental right to collectively bargaining. During our panel, we’ll be having a conversation about Local 150’s approach to organizing, the importance of member-run unions, and takeaways for public sector workers in Wisconsin, with time for Q&A.

Join us to hear from Darrion Smith (UE Eastern Region VP), Angaza Laughinghouse (UE150 former president) and Nathanette Mayo (UE150 former president).

Time 630PM; Monday February 1.

Please register at  bit.ly/ue150dsamadison

By: Josh

I was encouraged to try my hand at writing an article on this subject after speaking with a wonderful new friend of mine. I was initially intimidated and a bit adverse to it, given this would be my first effort at an article. Additionally, despite maybe having passion, I didn’t feel I had the knowledge or familiarity on the topic that I should, so I feared being seen in a hypocritical light.

But I’ve realized that this year (or four (or more)) has impassioned a lot of people of all types looking for ways to get involved and be a part of shaping the future of their nation. I, too, am one of those people, and have personally experienced how overwhelming and at times hopeless it can feel trying to find those ways to make a difference. So more than anything, I invite you to join in on that adventure of exploring how to play a vital and meaningful role in democracy and the direction our country takes.

Now then—where do we start? What can one person do in the grand scheme of things in a nation of this immense size and population?

The answer is: Start as small as possible. There’s a reason our system is broken into smaller and smaller units. Township/city politics are increasingly overlooked as more and more spotlight is shined upon national politics. This isn’t particularly surprising considering the continued interconnectedness of our nation (and the globe) with (semi) recent advancements like the growth of cable TV from the 60s and the internet and social media in recent times.

These technologies are designed to connect us nationwide, and it only makes sense that the majority of news and discussion you find in such places as on the national level. On top of this, online discussions are easy sources of immediate, direct, and clear feedback where something like a council meeting can feel much more opaque and require more deliberate consideration.

Meanwhile, we’ve declined in viewing local news and reading local papers. In my recent experience, it can be extremely difficult to put together ways to stay well informed locally using the internet (from local politicians being ghosts online, to horribly designed city websites, to lack of quality local news sources). A George Washington University study found that in a typical media market, the average person spends less than 10 minutes a month on local news sites. As such, people have become less informed (and vocal) of the politics of their immediate home and community and more informed (and vocal) on national issues where we have very little immediate sway.

Voter turnout in a mayoral election is often as low as one in three, and for other local elections under one in five. Remember, the United States has over a half million elected officials, only 542 of which are federal. We increasingly forget the base of our government and try to fight and enact change from the top down, which is never efficient. This has also made us more jaded in time and feel less empowered to play a role.

These things feed together to form the feeling of ennui and lack of interest and awareness regarding local politics, as well as the overall feeling of discontent and hopelessness with politics as a whole. The problem is that participation at the local level is absolutely the best bet for an average citizen to have their voice meaningfully heard. It’s at the local level one can actually make a perceptible change within their community and simultaneously stimulate others to do the same.

As our politics have become more nationalized, we as a people conversely have become more and more divided. Many have a very unrealistic expectation of how our national government should perform and consistently dig deeper into blaming the other side when it remains a standstill with mild back-and-forth deviations. Plus, the potential for anonymity in our digital age doesn’t help with that polarization in the slightest either. 

One of the greatest features of local politics is that they are a wonderful educator and builder of tolerance via direct exposure. When you participate in council meetings, local organizations, and even protests, you engage with your neighbors and community.  They’re the schoolhouses of democracy. You’re forced into a level of accountability and cooperation.

The Local government is the government closest to the people. It is where things like discourse, debate, and compromise are made and taught. It’s where you begin to get to really know and understand your community (and humanity) and where bridges and reason are formed. It’s where you can voice your views without it being just shouting into the ether. It’s where you can make connections with those of similar views and begin to build a formidable vehicle for change.

Cities, counties, and states should be the Laboratories of Democracy. To quote Justice Louis Brandeis (originator of the term): “A single courageous state may, if it’s citizens choose, serve as a laboratory, and try novel social and economic experiments without risk to the rest of the country.” This has been demonstrated in recent times by Massachusetts passing health care reform in 2006 which became a sort of framework for the Affordable Care Act, the legalization of gay marriage at the state level setting precedent for landmark Supreme Court cases, or the continuing legalization of marijuana (and other substances) by states. I believe these ideas, to an extent, can extend to counties and cities/towns as well.

The changes should begin within smaller regions of government. If they’re successful and well-received, the idea is likely to spread. If Enough counties enact an idea and demonstrate it as good, it’s likely the state may as well. If enough states follow, it is more likely to get attention as something that should be in place nationally. This is the way of progress; it is often gradual and not exciting, but that’s the groundwork needed for those sudden shifts.

Find the people in your community who’ve been involved longer and best represent your views and try to connect with them. See what other ways they might know that you can get involved. Find and join or form groups of similar views so you can better organize and voice matters to the public, and invite others to get involved more easily. Find the local politicians you agree with to support, influence, and volunteer with. If you can, ask them about the things they see from within and what they think is needed. Be an embodiment and example of the human you believe should be in politics.

If you’re upset about the country, government, or politics, make sure you’re being involved the most effective ways you can. Remember that this activism and participation at the smallest level is but the stepping stone to make a difference on a larger scale.

Prove yourself locally as an exemplary citizen with good ideas, file some paperwork, and put in the effort. Then, maybe, you can get a role in your local government, which will only net you more exposure and connections you can use to go even further if you have that passion. Or get enough active and like-minded people together to build a dedicated and passionate community, and with time that too can be a powerful vehicle for change with the ability to grow and have an influence on a larger scale.

A successful democracy requires people to be actively engaged and aware of their politics. How else can it be a government of the people? Attend your local council meetings, become familiar with the issues, voice your opinion. Bring up topics that are important to you that you don’t hear addressed. This is the path, from the bottom up, not the top down.

Be inspired, participate, inspire.

The post Your Voice is Louder on a Local Level appeared first on Grand Rapids Democratic Socialists of America.

Anyone who lives here in New York City knows the sight of mostly empty luxury towers lording over our neighborhoods. These developments generate immense wealth for real estate capital while raising rents for the working class residents who actually live here. As luxury buildings proliferate, tens of thousands are forced into homelessness and millions more pay most of their meager wages to their landlords. Gentrification is a campaign waged by real estate capital and their representatives in the state that dispossesses disproportionately black and brown working class New Yorkers for profit.  

NYC-DSA endorsed candidate for City Council in District 35 Michael Hollingsworth has spent life building tenant power and fighting for the people. He joins us to discuss his history as an organizer in the struggle to build working class power in his neighborhood and why he decided to run for city council on a socialist slate. We also hear from a member from DSA’s healthcare working group on the worker led fight to keep a hospital open in East Flatbush.

By: Liz

I wasn’t sure what to expect reading a book authored by Angela Davis. I hadn’t ventured near her literature before, and all I had known about her before reading this book was that she was an influential activist. Angela Davis’ writing brings attention to details about the prison industrial complex and its history that shouldn’t be missed.

Within the first ten pages, Davis presents a hard statistic to hear, “During my own career as an anti-prison activist I have seen the populations of U. S. Prisons increase with such rapidity that many people in black, Latino, and Native American communities now have a far greater chance of going to prison than of getting a decent education.”

Incarceration is not an old practice. It didn’t exist in the U.S. before the end of slavery. During our book club discussion, it wasn’t well known that prisons are still fairly new in the timeline of the U. S. and, frankly, the world.

The adoption of prisons was to work around slave abolition. When southern slave owners were forced to give their enslaved workers freedom, they were left without labor. The slave owners needed to replace previously enslaved workers so their reign on the economy wouldn’t crash. Paying employees a livable fair wage was not as profitable as slave labor, and these plantation owners were going to find every loophole imaginable to get out of paying their formerly enslaved workers for their labor.

If only there were an end to profiting off prison labor. Today, more American prisoners are being exploited for their labor than during the first few years following the Emancipation Proclamation. Major brands such as Whole Foods, McDonald’s, Target, IBM, Texas Instruments, Boeing, Nordstrom, Intel, Wal-Mart, Victoria’s Secret, Aramark, AT&T, BP, Starbucks, Microsoft, Nike, Honda, Macy’s, and Sprint are several of many companies that benefit from prison labor. 

Why are we supporting a practice with an origin in slavery, and why have we turned a blind eye to slavery today? Slavery isn’t just a history lesson; twenty-first-century slavery has been marketed to look like a normal activity for prisoners.

After reading chapter three, titled Imprisonment and Reform, I brought up prison labor to a family friend. I was explaining the origins and how it made me feel to know that incarcerated people are being exploited for their labor. Their response was, “Well, it’s not like they’re going to do anything else while in jail; they might as well be put to work rather than sit on their butts all day.” The chapters that we read following that discussion talked about how “crime and punishment” shouldn’t be in a marriage with one another, and questioned why we overlook rehabilitation within the prison system. Why are we set on thinking punishment is the only thing to follow crime?

Early in the book, Davis points out the Mississippi Black Codes that were created to incarcerate black people for crimes like being drunk in public, running away from their jobs, or even being accused of carelessly handling money. The Mississippi Black Codes were used to put emancipated black people back on the very plantations they were freed from. However, instead of their lives being monetarily owned, they were now prisoners of the state, and their labor was being used as their punishment for their “crimes.” Davis mentions Mary Ellen Curtin’s study, which found that incarceration rates in Alabama were 99% white before emancipation. Shortly after, the population of incarcerated individuals became disproportionately black.

“During my own career as an anti-prison activist I have seen the populations of U. S. Prisons increase with such rapidity that many people in black, Latino, and Native American communities now have a far greater chance of going to prison than of getting a decent education.”

Angela Davis

Davis also brings up the racist tendencies of white people who used black-face following emancipation to get away with a crime. She makes sure to point out that those tactics have never gone away. Unfortunately, it is common for privileged people to blame black people for their crimes because our system is built on the idea that black people are “inherently criminal and, in particular, prone to larceny.” Without the Mississippi Black Codes, this idea would not be as ingrained into our society. This stigma needs to end.

Angela Davis writes in a way that informs the reader of our country’s truth and explains how devastating our treatment of prisoners has been and still is. Yet, she writes with optimism that change is possible. Optimism is not too common in political literature, especially not when the writing is about something as awful as the prison industrial complex. Davis is not a “black pill” writer. She is inspiring and has a voice that radicalizes.

I implore all who read this article to read Angela Davis’ work, fully comprehend her words, and become radicalized. The prison industrial complex is fully aware of its inhumane practices. Yet, it thrives because ordinary people are unaware of how multifarious prisons are. It’s not the fault of ordinary people; the system doesn’t want people to know what goes on behind closed doors. We must educate our neighbors and read literature from activists and individuals who are directly impacted by the prison industrial complex. And, to answer Angela Davis: yes, prisons are obsolete.

The post Book Club Report: Are Prisons Obsolete? appeared first on Grand Rapids Democratic Socialists of America.

Nazis are here. Nazis have infiltrated our campus. Patriot Front is a Texas-based alt right hate group that bases its beliefs on anti-semetic white supremacy, neo-nazism and neo-fascism. In August 2017, the organization split from Vanguard America -- the neo-nazi, neo-fascist group infamous for a terrorist attack in Charolettsville, Virginia and other alt-right attatcks across the nation. The leader of Patriot Front, Thomas Ryan Rousseau, has attempted to make the group mainstream by utilizing conservative language and the worship of the American flag. Rousseau, much like Vanguard America, focuses on targeting younger demographics, especially on college campuses. It is no different at NKU. Over the last several years, Patriot Front has littered their messages all across our public campus, writing messages with chalk on the sidewalks, placing flyers, and posting stickers. The images reflect their beliefs of anti-semetism and neo-fascism. They claim that America is a land conquered by our white ancestors meant for their white descendants and no one else. The fire has been stoked recently due to the growing re-acceptance of fascism and nazism into the American way of life through modern politicians, authoritarian police, and racist policy, but the flame has never left.

Today -- on Holocaust remembrance day -- Patriot Front vandalized the boulder that centers the courtyard in front of Norse Commons and the dorms. They plastered their disgusting name and message for all students to see as they walked by. Every Jewish student, every student of color, every minority, and every student of the LGBTQ+ community has had to endure the messages of hate on their own campus, in their own home. This is not the first time that Patriot Front has attacked our campus, yet the Northern Kentucky University administration and president have consistently chosen to look the other way. They continue to ignore the harm that this hate has on their student body. Nazism was inspired by America; Nazism flourished in America; and Nazism continues to stain America. We cannot allow for this rhetoric to be spoken and promoted in a place of education. We cannot appease the Patriot Front or any act of white supremacy in any way, and most importantly, we must unite in solidarity to finally put an end to the abhorrent speech of Nazis.