8
BLACK INK
February, 1973
iT GOULD HAPPEN TO YOU!
4
Being my Blackself
Inmates
need
attention
Being forgotten is a terrible
and shocking experience.
According to prison records,
there are approximately 10,000
inmates in North Carolina’s
prisons and the majority of
those inmates are Black.
Furthermore, a vast majority of
those inmates have been
forgotten.
Prison reform can only take
place as public reform takes
place. That is, until the attitude
of the community changes so
that it understands that the
committing of a crime is not
necessarily a vicious act, and it
accepts the inmate into the
community once he’s out, prison
reform will be what it always has
been . . . non-existent!
Not far from UNC is a town
named Hillsborough. In this
town there is a minimum
security prison unit that houses
about a hundred inmates . . .
mostly black. There are also
some very interested citizens
who recognize a need for
community involvement and
have set themselves to the task.
This group is called the
Orange County Community
Advisory Council. Along with
the prison unit’s innovative
26-year-old superintendent, it
has started some 'ositive action
toward real prison reform. The
group, under the auspices of the
Department of Correction, is
concerned with such things as
raising the inmates level of
education through an Adult
Basic Education program,
vocational training, meeting the
needs of older inmates, through
beautifying the prison grounds
and extending the recreational
facilities, providing counseling
services and many other viable
programs designed to make the
transition from inmate to citizen
a successful one.
What this group needs is more
community and student
involvement. No matter what
your special interests are you
can help make this group, the
inmate and the program a
successful one. If you are
interested in participating in the
activities of the Council please
contact: Ernest H. Pitt, 406
Grimes Hall, 933-8757 or John
Curry, 732-2 196.
EBONY READERS
Everyone will certainly
remember the dynamic
performance of eight freshman
Black students during this past
year’s Miss BSM Coronation
Ball. Reading powerful words of
Black inspiration, the Ebony
Readers created in everyone a
sense of purpose, pride, and
progression. Realizing that we,
as Black students, are not quite
as together mentally as we
should be on this campus, the
Ebony Readers reassembled as a
permanent group.
The Readers: Brenda
McClain, Arnia Floyd, Joe
Knight, Curtis Howard, Angela
Wright, Lena Dobson, Walter
Egerton, and Leroy Bynum have
committed themselves to use the
medium of poetry, and the
spoken word for Black
L i b era t ion.
By Larry Mixon
Staff Writer
You know, I sometimes
wonder what it is that makes
whites feel as though we ought
to be complacent and impressed
with them on this campus. 1
mean Carolina is supposed to be
liberal and all that, but I just
cannot convince myself of that
fallacy.
For instance, consider that
fact that some 225 of my
brothers, sisters and 1 stay down
in James dorm. One of the few
uses that 1 make of the dorm is
the downstairs lounge. Now
that’s my party place, and I
mean, I dig it if the party is
swinging. It seems to me that if
my liberal white cohorts were so
interested in my general welfare,
they would look out for my
party place.
James dorm governor, Bill
Hill, who beat my boy, Mike
Mosley, back in September, is
alright if he looks out for my
interest, but damn, if he did not
go and propose some ridiculous
party policy. I mean you just
cannot depend on the.se white
folks.
Sign up four fucking days in
advance for some party that I
probably will not set up until
Friday night. That is too damn
much! To add to that, I have to
have an officially recognized
university group (and you and I
know that Black folks ain’t
recognized) sponsor it. Finally,
to make sure that I do not get to
use the place no more, the group
has to fork up fifty dollars for
insurance against “damages.”
Now I have had complaints
against white folks’ foolishness
before, and I have come to learn
that in these instances, you can
only depend on your own kind.
So I contacted my BSM
representatives, and got them to
work on it for me. I figure they
could better handle such white
folks’ foolishness, while I let my
mind rest on more basic things.
But then, damn man, that’s
hard to do on this campus. I
mean, my man, Leroi Jones —
Baraka, came down to speak. 1
checked his scene out, and
found it out-a-sight. Man, he was
talking some heavy shit - I
mean, 1 even thought that his
“we’re an African people” bag
was bad. Well the next day, I
thought I would check out what
Carolina free press would have
to say about his .speech. Like,
wow man, the goddamn paper
had the wrong damn picture
published. There it was, Baraka’s
guard sitting back looking cool,
and stereotyped. Some brothers
remarked laughingly, “As they
say, ‘We all look alike’.” Look
alike, hell!
That is just indicative of this
whole damn place. “Blacks are
stupid, and do not care.” We can
run any kind of shit down on
them, and they will accept it.”
Well 1 am here to tell them that
is a lie! Blacks t/o not look alike.
Blacks Jo care, they do have
something to .say and contribute.
And I am not going to stand
back and allow such stupid
mistakes to continue.
I started to write my letter of
protest, but then I remembered
how last year the same thing had
happened with the Supremes. I
remembered how we all cursed
out them folks for making such
stupid mistakes. After I thought
about it, I decided that I could
not expect anything more than
foolishness, and biased ignorance
from them folks. I mean, after
all, they were not Black, and
consequently were very little
concerned about my interests.
For my interests and image to be
projected correctly, I would
certainly have to do it myself.
So, I went on down to their
office, and offered my services.
They were nice about it. They
could appreciate my concern.
But they had enough staff
writers, and could really see no
need for having me around. Well
that really did not set too well
with me. What the hell they
mean, their staff was
“proficient”. I mean I was only
trying to help them out, and my
.services are not to be taken
lightly.
So I made my way to the
Black Ink Office where I was
appreciated, helpful and
inspired. Whereforth 1 proceeded
to produce this magnificent
representation/expre,ssion of my
Blackself.
Peace, Power, Party
Nigger Tom
Essex’s
message
received
By Emma Pullen
Associate Editor
Relatives and friends of Mark
James Robert Essex remember
him as a quiet, well-liked young
man. By Black standards, he
came from a middle-class family.
He was the oldest of five
children. An average student,
Jimmy, as his mother called him,
graduated from high school in
his home town of Emporia,
Kansas and, as many Black males
do, enlisted in the armed
services.
Essex’s home environment
seemingly did not prepare him
for the discrimination and
injustices that he would
encounter in the Navy. One
particular incident involving him
and one of his friends and a
white sailor, was never settled to
his satisfaction. After an official
investigation, the white sailor
dropped the charges, but
nothing was done to actually
clear up the matter. Unable to
cope with the entire situation,
Jimmy went AWOL.
At his court marshal, Essex
testified that he was beginning
to hate all white people. “I was
tired of going to white people
and telling them my problems
and not getting anything done
about it,” he said.
Essex joined the increasingly
large number of Black GIs who
receive less that honorable
discharges which result from
racial incidents. (One out of
every four unfavorable military
discharges goes to a Black man).
His discharge was based on “bad
conduct” and “character
disorders.”
Mark drifted to New Orleans
where he enrolled in a technical
institute for the hard core
unemployed. According to
friends, he never really got over
his Navy experiences. The walls
of his apartment were decorated
with such slogans as: MY
DEATH LIES IN THE BLOODY
DEATH OF RACIST PIGS and
POLITICAL POWER COMES
FROM THE BARREL OF A
GUN.
The Howard Johnston Motor
Lodge in New Orleans was the
scene of Essex’s one-man
revolution. For 42 hours, this
marksman who had been trained
to kill the “enemy”, held off a
barrage of 200 heavy armed law
enforcement officers and one
armor-plated Marine helicopter.
When the battle was over, Mark
had taken with him six whites
and injured nine more.
Essex’s death should serve as
a warning to America about the
detrimental effect of racial
discrimination in the military.
How many more Mark Essexs
are they producing?
HOW TO SUCCEED
(For niggers only)
Don’t fight Boy!
That’s not the American
Way!
Laugh, sing, dance,
Grin, hope and
Pray!
Arnold Kemp