REVIEW: Prisons and Politics in America Exhibit

Tucked away in a corner of Hatcher North’s first floor is the Audubon room, named for the extremely rare volume of naturalist James Audubon’s “Birds of America” paintings that it houses. From now until March 24, it also houses the Prisons and Politics in America exhibition curated by Julie Herrada.

“Prisons and Politics in America: An Exhibit of Art, Poetry, Letters and Prison Resistance from 1890 to Today,” examines the political reasons for why people are imprisoned: for speaking out, for writing, for violating repressive laws, framed because of their color or politics, for stealing from the rich, for refusing the military draft, for whistleblowing, for attempting to overthrow the government, for standing up for a belief, or for walking over a forbidden line.

The items focus on maintaining one’s humanity behind bars, promoting political causes, and offering solidarity in support of prisoners.

 

 

The exhibit was pretty small, with a total of 39 items, but I thought it was a fitting size. The items on display were well-chosen and represented a variety of time periods, activist movements, and prison injustices. I learned a great deal by walking around and slowly taking each artifact in, reading the thoughtfully-written blurb about each.

“San Quentin Days: Poems of a Prison” by Anonymous

There were all sorts of artifacts: from protest pinback buttons to FBI Wanted posters to comics to a recipe for DIY prison ice cream. The most moving parts of the exhibit for me were the sections displaying prison writing: poetry, letters, memoirs, books. Writing is one of the most powerful tools of expression that a prisoner has, and also is one of the only ways they have to connect to the outside world. Some of the items in the collection were extremely rare and among only a few surviving copies around the world. Writing is hard enough in a comfortable space – can you imagine how difficult it must be to write from prison?

I had forgotten how far back the history of protest and activism goes. Every time a new movement starts , to me it can feel like a whole new isolated effort, which is a huge sign of my privilege. There are many who are not given the chance to forget the history to which movements are attached to because those issues affect them every single day. Rarely is there an injustice so new that there were no ancestors who had to fight it in their time too.

 

Free John Now! Poster, 1971

The exhibit sparked some thoughts for me on how activism has changed over the past century and how it has stayed the same. The language in some of the items in the exhibit was very similar to the language I see in protest posters printed today. Strong language, fueled by a sense of justice. Images of chains and bondage and upright fists underneath calls to action like “FREE [X]” and “STOP [Y].”

Attica. Poster, [197?]
The greatest difference I see is because of something that modern-day activists have that the past did not: digital technology. I am amazed at the materials people used in the past — postcards, buttons, flyers — that had to be distributed by hand and on foot. Imagine if the leaders of the 1919 labor strikes in Detroit had access to a computer at the library where they could open up a Microsoft Publisher document, put together a graphic and slap it on Facebook or Instagram for free. It has been said often in the Information Age, but I’ll say it again: our modern-day ability to disseminate information so quickly and widely is borderline magic.

Free Gary Tyler Poster, [197?]
I will say that I would have arranged the exhibit a little differently. The arrangement of artifacts seemed to maximize how much I had to walk. I also would have also liked it if items that were part of the same “movement” or at least from the same time period in history were placed close together to make the exhibit feel more cohesive. The decision to put this exhibit in the Audubon room strikes me as a bit strange, given that James Audubon was known to oppose the abolition of slavery and argued that black and indigenous people were inferior. Many of the incarcerated people mentioned in this exhibit were of black or indigenous origin and were jailed by blatantly racist judicial systems on little to no evidence, a term labeled “legal lynching”. A small acknowledgement of the fact that their stories are right now sharing the same space with the legacy of a proslavery individual would have been thoughtful.

If you’re ever studying in Hatcher, I highly recommend slipping away for a bit to check out this exhibit in the Audubon Room on the first floor. It is well worth the visit and I guarantee you’ll learn something new!

REVIEW: Film Screening: The River and The Wall

“Building a wall from sea to shining sea is the most expensive and least effective way to do border security.”

-Will Hurd, Republican Congressman of Texas

A politicized landscape can be both metaphorical and physical. We preoccupy ourselves with the issues, and the solid ground they concern disappears. But for all those who benefit from this space–wildlife, nature enthusiasts, fishers,–forgetting is impossible. The land is sacred, life-giving, the means for making a living. Politicians in faraway places decide what happens, unaffected by the cascading effects a complete wall would have on the life here.

Important populations which have historically struggled to survive are put at risk by Trump’s border wall. Black bears and mountain lions, just coming back from local near-extinction, will suffer geographic isolation, decreasing genetic diversity and weakening the populations’ ability to withstand disease or other destructors. The meandering nature of the Rio Grande and the unrelenting straight edge of the wall necessitates a wide swath of no man’s land by the river, unjustly punishing local landowners and workers. The US side will lack the river, along with its aesthetic, spiritual, and bodily supportive value.

It’s impossible not to draw a connection from this to Robert Moses’ tyrannical reconstruction of New York during the mid-20th century. Caring not for the residents of its “slums” (read: people of color, the impoverished, undesirable white ethnic groups), he cut straight through with expressways and less-than-affordable new public housing. Rich, dense communities were reduced to identical buildings cut off from the rest of the city. The cultural and physical landscape of their old home had completely changed. He, like the Trump administration, was detached from the people he affected, and in this he lacked the knowledge and empathy necessary to be a leader of that kind. 

The river is our equalizer between us and our neighbors. A source of life, a means of survival and emotional wellbeing. The alluvial river plains, fertilized by upwelling of rich sediments during floods, are extremely productive areas. Losing out on this agricultural resource would be disastrous for farmers and the communities they support.

What bothered me about this documentary was the clearly elevated position on which its subjects stood. It really was not an accurate approximation of a migrant’s dangerous journey. They’re equipped with strong horses, expensive bikes and hiking gear, nice canoes. They are all young, in good health, physically strong. All the methods of transportation the five used (bikes, horses, canoes) are physically taxing. The film failed to bring up the unique dangers that elderly migrants face on their way, and also children, pregnant women, the ill. That side of the issue is an even darker facet, and it should be represented here.

Luckily, the film was able to balance the tragedy of our likely future with the joys of past and present. The cinematography was graceful and rugged at once, the environment lending itself to an exploration of the simultaneous existence of fear and awe. It seems to reflect a migrant’s experience because of that.

The ending was too idyllic for my taste, a little too naively hopeful. We see little direction for viewers to seize and act from. Emotion alone is not enough to argue against the political situation in which we find ourselves.

This website is a great resource for investigating what you can do.

 

PREVIEW: The River and The Wall

Free movie screenings truly are a gift to all, especially when they hit mid-week, the toughest time to get through. And with The River and The Wall, we’ll even learn a little something about the world.

The film follows the experience of five friends realizing just how impactful the in-progress U.S.-Mexico border wall truly is. It combines elements of philosophy, environmental science, politics, and human nature seamlessly, showing us exactly how interconnected such disciplines can be.

Head down tomorrow, Wednesday, February 19, 6 PM to the Gallery in Hatcher Graduate Library to watch with me. It isn’t confirmed, but there will likely be some snacks provided. Just in case, I’ll be bringing my favorite pretzels and some dark chocolate to enjoy.

REVIEW: Is This A Room: Reality Winner Verbatim Transcription

Five years, three months: the longest sentence ever given for leaking classified information to media sources. This is Reality Winner’s punishment for her confessed involvement in the spread of private documents regarding Russian meddling in the 2016 United States presidential election. Given this record, are we not obligated to ask questions? Does this historical event not deserve to be emphasized, elevated to a position of art?

This play is thoughtful, unassuming in its simplicity. Art written in the moment of speaking, the best kind. The liberty they took with the background score was a little heavy for me sometimes, especially when it went on for prolonged periods below speech. We are already invested in the story, so the added dramatic tones were only distracting, kind of like a soap opera.

Still I was struck by how baldly pained actress Emily Davis’ expression was throughout the play, perfecting the panicked mix of emotions Reality Winner must have been feeling at the time. The FBI agents were not heavily dichotomized in tone, which was a relief, but instead reflected flawed humanity rather than stereotype.

But is the act of turning Reality into a play just, or some kind of spectacle-making that preys on her turmoil while wearing the disguise of the artist? Is there enough of an argument against ordinary journalism’s story-driven (and thus not always compassionate) tendencies for the theatre medium to survive? Provocative titles to articles like “Does Reality Winner ‘Hate America?'” seem to provide evidence for one. Other

In making the script a verbatim transcription of the interrogation, do we lose valuable insight into the case? There is zero analysis of the events here, nor is there any real background information beyond online and program literature. The point was, I guess, for the audience to draw their own thoughts together about the case, with only the absolute barest bones with which to work.

The trouble I have with this strategy is that no one in the audience is truly coming in with no background knowledge and/or opinions related to the case. Even those not exposed to media stories about Winner have no doubt heard the countless reports on collusion in the election, forming and borrowing speculations on the truth. Even the baseline action of creating this play is a statement that this story is hers, and deserves telling; that the outcome may not have been a rational one.

I suppose still that in our information age there is no real neutral ground. We are exposed to so much media, tinted with biases coming from every direction, mixing with our own, and coming out the other side a completely unique concoction. It’s easy to become confused with what our beliefs are based on. So a verbatim transcription of an interrogation, regardless of its background tunes, is probably as close to perfect as we’re going to get. Thankfully we see enough value in the honest truth to produce this kind of play, and for it to be so well-received. What a curious thing.

 

PREVIEW: Is This A Room: Reality Winner Verbatim Transcription

Art often has some connection to politics, but often it’ll be diluted, stylized past the point of meaning as much. It’s rare to see this kind of drama in an untouched form. The audience and actors here are forced to work with nothing but reality to create artistic drama, and that is a unique challenge.

The play follows the 2017 interrogation of Reality Winner, ex-Air Force linguist who was accused of leaking information on Russian meddling with the 2016 presidential election. In this current political landscape, this story is fully relevant to our wondering minds, many of which have been thus far unsatisfied with other media coverage.

Show times:

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 2020 7:30 PM
THURSDAY, JANUARY 30, 2020 7:30 PM
FRIDAY, JANUARY 31, 2020 8:00 PM
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 2020 8:00 PM
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2020 2:00 PM // ARTHUR MILLER THEATRE

Tickets are $35 for general admission, and $12-20 for high school and college students. Find them here: https://ums.org/performance/is-this-a-room-reality-winner-verbatim-transcript/

REVIEW: As Far As My Fingertips Take Me

You put on the headphones, and they themselves seem significant: the wires connect but they constrict, you have to rely on the tinny sound for information but it blocks out your surroundings. The whole experience was full of these contradictions, to the point that I had to consciously stop myself from thinking through them in order to pay attention. There’s the white wall to my side, and though I can see the borders of it from where I sit I can’t see the other side, so it’s as good as infinite. A little light is coming from where I’ve offered up my arm to the artist, Basel Zaraa, and I’m tempted to look down and through to meet his eyes but I know that something will be broken if I do.

The felt-tip marker is brushing over the flesh on the inside of my forearm and my palm, and I hate how gently he’s holding my fingers down because already I’ve associated him with a Dublin Regulation fingerprint database employee. When I realize I’ve put myself in a position I am privileged to never experience, it’s jarring and it’s a feeling that’s creeping like sweat along my forehead.

I don’t feel any one thing completely after, except for quiet. Not quieted, not disquieted, not just not speaking and not just alone. Quiet is the only adjective I can give myself. I’m sad for what I don’t know and especially for why I don’t, the stupid luck that let me be born into stability and the politics that let others live out of backpacks. Travel is so often romanticized, but there is a difference between travel by choice and by circumstance (further reading: https://doi.org/10.1002/9780470670590.wbeog940).

So in about 15 minutes I’m in and out of another world, halfway a vagabond myself. I’m back and walking home and I feel homesick but mostly physically so, my eyes kind of glassy. It’s a little disappointing that I wasn’t physically transported, though of course that would be impossible. I’m still in Ann Arbor, Michigan walking down the street, and I have no reason to fear that I won’t be here tomorrow. There is a constant stream going through my head berating me for how little I know about the world, and it feels like an abuse to wear this tattoo on my arm like a costume.

But I can use that guilt he’s given me, to take learning into my own hands and to get politically involved. Where the law does not protect the safety of people worried for their lives, there is a problem, a violation of human rights. As election season is upon us, it is a perfect time to get involved and get the right people elected. With primaries right around the corner, the time for active research is now.

You can find out more about Tania El Khoury’s work on her website: https://taniaelkhoury.com/