I tried my best to encourage the brothers to stand up

by Brandon Stevenson

Thank you for the great and mighty work that you brothers and sisters are doing and have been doing spreading education and information to our people. I love the Bay View. You all keep it real and do not sugarcoat ANYTHING relevant to the people.

Angola-prisoners-marched-to-farm-work-web-300x225, I tried my best to encourage the brothers to stand up, Abolition Now!
Nowhere more than in Angola do prisoners look more like slaves. Those who work in the fields are marched out every morning by the white overseer who supervises their work, for which they are paid nothing. In fancy wrought iron, the sign arching over the prison entrance says Angola Prison Farms.

A call for a national work stoppage was issued for Sept. 9, 2016, to inmates all across America to bring an end to the “exception” – the slavery clause – in the U.S. Constitution’s 13th Amendment upholding slavery for prisoners. Sadly, I, along with a very small sprinkle of inmates here and there on “the farm” (a reference to Angola, a former slave plantation turned into the largest prison in the country) answered the call.

I was housed at Camp D in a cell block unit called Raven. Out of the entire camp, which houses a thousand or so inmates, I was the only inmate to join the work stoppage. I tried my best to encourage the brothers to stand up and denounce being looked upon as a slave, being treated as a slave and being documented as a slave.

Nobody wanted to stand with me as the free folks rallied around me, handcuffing me, talking crazy about how stupid I was to heed the call. I was brought to the prison’s maximum security unit, Camp J, and was told I’d be here until I leave the prison.

A call for a national work stoppage was issued for Sept. 9, 2016, to inmates all across America to bring an end to the “exception” – the slavery clause – in the U.S. Constitution’s 13th Amendment upholding slavery for prisoners.

I couldn’t understand how all these so-called real, gangsta type killers of their own selves could not stand up to their slave oppressors and demand change. Strangely, I felt good at first, but later on, the hurt of how feeble my Black brothers are overwhelmed me.

It curiously caused me to contemplate how Brothers Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers and the others were able to find the strength necessary to constantly advocate on behalf of people who don’t seem to care about our plight at all. The Bible says in Ecclesiastes 7.7, “Surely oppression maketh a wise man mad.”

We are being oppressed 24/7, and all I see around me in this prison is “acceptance” to what they all seem to think is a thing of “normalcy.” These crackers have created the most corrupt system known to the Black family: slavery and the prison system.

Angola was once known as the bloodiest prison in America. Now it’s the weakest. These crackers have a collar and chain around this pitbull of a prison and many more like it, and they utilize their media to display the notoriety and violent behavior of each dog under their command. Over 6,000 inmates housed inside of this prison, Angola, and on Sept. 9, ONLY four inmates took part in the work stoppage – three from the main prison West Yard and myself from Camp D.

It curiously caused me to contemplate how Brothers Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Medgar Evers and the others were able to find the strength necessary to constantly advocate on behalf of people who don’t seem to care about our plight at all.

I watched the countless number of brothers and sisters killed by police, young and old. That boiled my blood. President Obama’s hometown is flooded with Black on Black violence, and he hasn’t put a meaningful plan in place to get that situation straight.

Don’t you know, brother, that there have been more police killings under the Obama administration than the previous four presidents? Yet and still, he opposes brothers like the great Micah X. Johnson and Gavin E. Long. Rest in peace!

We need more of them brothers not only in Dallas and Baton Rouge. We need them discharged in any and every community where our people are being harassed, oppressed and mistreated. My real family turned their backs on me and I never knew my father. My mom was murdered back in 2002 while I was up here. My grandma got dementia, so I don’t hear from her. I got a sister, but we don’t talk.

One aunt bears the entire load of caring for me, but I don’t ask her for anything. I’m from New Orleans, and most of my friends are dead, others in prison – slave plantations. I’m self-taught, and I have a vision to join the New Black Panther Party or UBF (United Black Front) when I get out. I want to join a group that’s physically making a difference and not weak or scared to confront the crackers.

Send our brother some love and light: Brandon Stevenson, 376827, Camp J, Louisiana State Penitentiary, Angola LA 70712.