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  The Fire Inside
 Issue 34 - Fall 2006/Winter 2007

< Dedication
 
< Working for the P.I.A.
 
< Legal Corner: Work provisions in Title 15
 
< And I am you, too
 
< Work that helps others helps me
 
< Editorial: New Millennium Slavery
 
< Editorial: La Esclavitud del Nuevo Milenio
 
< It's All About Us: How did you survive your time inside?
 
< Prison Labor Hierarchy
 
< CCWP’s celebration
 
< Our Voices Within: Out of the Shadows
 
< A Medical Assistant Stands up for Human Rights
 
< In Memoriam
 
< Vigil for Outreach and Justice
 
< Parole Beat
 
< Special Session Prison Expansion Defeated
 
< First Annual Domestic Violence Awareness Day at VSPW
 
< It's Your Health: Work in Prison
 
< The heath care system in prison has failed us
 
< Coalition for Accountable Health Care Meets with Sillen
 
       

And I am you, too

by Deirdre Wilson, former prisoner, survivor

We are proud to publish this original poem read by the author as part of the event Our Voices Within: Out of the Shadows (see story p. 9)

I was free to run, jump, ride and play
    Not a care got in MY way
That don't mean s**t
    When you're a number.

I was proud, good in school
    Every advantage available as my tool.
That don't mean s**t
    When you're a number.

Captain of my sports teams,
    Full of hope, bright with dreams.
Those things didn't amount to s**t
    When I was a number.

Went to a university, got letters behind my name.
Walked the red carpet,
    You couldn't tell me I didn't know MY game.
THAT—especially—don't mean s**t
    When you're nothing but a number.

Got hooked up with a guy
    Beautiful, and I thought "how enlightened! How brave and so wise!"
THAT was the first step...
    On a long, rough and painful road
    To... that number

Black eyed peas, crack's evil squeeze.
    No, baby... don't black-eye me again, please...
Ain't no sympathy, victim or no
    Once you got that damn number.

Gave birth six times. Six miracles... stars that shine!
    I NEVER let anyone take that from me
    While I had that number

Take everything away! Go ahead—strip me bare!
Mock me, insult me, try to kill me
    With that soulless stare.

Your boots, your keys, your bars, your towers!
    I know what it's like to spend years without flowers.

Titles don't last
    Letters or numbers.

I am who I am!

And I am you, too.

Last updated March 14, 2007 11:36 PM


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