Abu-Jamal writes: "It's been 10 years since the watery carnage of Katrina,
and one year since the fiery rage lit the night skies of Ferguson Missouri.
Between these two harrowing events lay the state of Black America: isolated,
demonized, and damned."
Mumia Abu-Jamal. (photo: Lou Jones/First Run Features)
From Katrina to Ferguson
By Mumia Abu-Jamal, Prison Radio
09 September 15
It's been 10 years since the watery carnage of Katrina, and one year since
the fiery rage lit the night skies of Ferguson Missouri. Between these two
harrowing events lay the state of Black America: isolated, demonized, and
damned.
When the levees broke and the rushing waters of Hurricane Katrina swept into
the Wards of New Orleans, the 9th Ward, the Blackest Ward, received the
greatest damage and the least relief. Today, 10 years after its horrific
flooding, the 9th is barely half of its former population of working class
and poor inhabitants. It is a shell of its pre-flood glory.
What the residents of the 9th learned was the cold, hard truth that they
were all on their own, facing the fury of the storm.
They could call 911, and they may have even gotten an answer, but no one
came for them. For they were in the 9th Ward, and they were expendable.
Flip to Ferguson. Summer 2014. The time of Mike Brown's killing by a cop,
and the subsequent explosion of protest from Black youth. Young Black men,
women, and children took to the streets and faced police sniper rifles,
automatic weapons, Humvees, and scared paranoid White cops.
How many of us know that protest has continued daily since then? The media
may have fled the story, but the people haven't. Some have pitched tents,
others have set times daily to join the protests.
But they're there everyday to remind us of the very real and very deep
discontent with an oppressive system that has soured they're days and
nights. For the fires of Ferguson still burn. They burn in their hearts,
simmer in their souls, and they roar in their minds. These fires of
discontent.
And Katrina: if ever we wondered if Black lives mattered? The squalled
treatment of the people of New Orleans, especially the 9th ward, answered
that question decisively.
Politicians, banks, media, and entrepreneurs plucked what they could and
kept on moving to leave the souls of the 9th to fend for themselves:
isolated demonized, and damned.
Touch points for Black America: Katrina and Ferguson.
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Mumia Abu-Jamal. (photo: Lou Jones/First Run Features)
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From Katrina to Ferguson
By Mumia Abu-Jamal, Prison Radio
09 September 15
t's been 10 years since the watery carnage of Katrina, and one year since
the fiery rage lit the night skies of Ferguson Missouri. Between these two
harrowing events lay the state of Black America: isolated, demonized, and
damned.
When the levees broke and the rushing waters of Hurricane Katrina swept into
the Wards of New Orleans, the 9th Ward, the Blackest Ward, received the
greatest damage and the least relief. Today, 10 years after its horrific
flooding, the 9th is barely half of its former population of working class
and poor inhabitants. It is a shell of its pre-flood glory.
What the residents of the 9th learned was the cold, hard truth that they
were all on their own, facing the fury of the storm.
They could call 911, and they may have even gotten an answer, but no one
came for them. For they were in the 9th Ward, and they were expendable.
Flip to Ferguson. Summer 2014. The time of Mike Brown's killing by a cop,
and the subsequent explosion of protest from Black youth. Young Black men,
women, and children took to the streets and faced police sniper rifles,
automatic weapons, Humvees, and scared paranoid White cops.
How many of us know that protest has continued daily since then? The media
may have fled the story, but the people haven't. Some have pitched tents,
others have set times daily to join the protests.
But they're there everyday to remind us of the very real and very deep
discontent with an oppressive system that has soured they're days and
nights. For the fires of Ferguson still burn. They burn in their hearts,
simmer in their souls, and they roar in their minds. These fires of
discontent.
And Katrina: if ever we wondered if Black lives mattered? The squalled
treatment of the people of New Orleans, especially the 9th ward, answered
that question decisively.
Politicians, banks, media, and entrepreneurs plucked what they could and
kept on moving to leave the souls of the 9th to fend for themselves:
isolated demonized, and damned.
Touch points for Black America: Katrina and Ferguson.
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http://e-max.it/posizionamento-siti-web/socialize
