Category Archives: Emerging Justice Seekers

Rural Roundtable: New Mexico

Rural Roundtable: New Mexico

Erin Sutherland
January 28, 2019

Two weeks ago, Sr. Simone and I traveled to New Mexico to facilitate NETWORK’s first-ever Rural Roundtable.  The idea for a Rural Roundtable came when NETWORK realized that while we have a good understanding of how federal policies impact people in the urban and suburban areas, we needed to gain a better understanding of the lived realities for people in rural areas to be better advocates for the 100%.  The stops on some Nuns on the Bus tours had been in rural areas, but we wanted to make a more intentional commitment to specific communities by building upon events we would already be having in the state.

The day after we arrived, Sr. Simone and I spent the morning meeting with residents from the Laguna Pueblo.  We visited St. Joseph Mission School in San Fidel, NM, where we met 40 amazing students and staff who are actively committed to learning about and rectifying the environmental and health damage that was a result of decades of uranium mining.  Merrick, an eighth grade student, showed us a video he had made that  recently won first place in a regional competition.  The video featured the story of his grandmother, who had worked in the Jack Pile uranium mine and now has pulmonary-related health problems.  In the coming year, the entire school was planning to test their water for uranium, and the eighth-grade class was planning to travel to the University of Notre Dame to present their findings.  In the midst of such mature and thoughtful leadership and community engagement, it was heartbreaking to think of the health effects that these students and their families could face because of reckless extractive policies.

Later that night, we convened our roundtable in Albuquerque and spoke with service providers and community leaders from women’s health, childcare, rural dental care, indigenous communities, food security, and immigration sectors.  During our two-hour long conversation, Tina Cordova of Tularosa Basin Downwinders Consortium described the decades-long treatment of New Mexico as a “sacrifice zone” where corporations and government agencies have come in and extracted resources and conducted tests with little regard for the residents.  New Mexico has an endowment fund that is mostly invested and managed out of state.  Another community member described how this treatment has affected people’s view of their self-worth: if your government treats your community like it’s dispensable and not worth the investment, you eventually start to believe it.

As I reflect on everything I learned during my trip to New Mexico, it is empathy for all those who feel forgotten or left behind by their government that has stayed with me.  It is my faith, which upholds the dignity and value of every human life, coupled with my patriotism for “We the People,” that firms my resolve that everyone deserves to feel and be treated like a valuable member of society.  One thing Sr. Simone does so well is to help people move past helplessness and despair and towards hopeful action.  At NETWORK, this first roundtable gave  us an opportunity to reflect on how we can lobby for policies that will include the 100%- not just the people with whom it is easiest to engage.  This experience has given me and NETWORK an opportunity to listen more, listen first before acting, and then to act with intentional inclusion.  I am so grateful for the opportunity to have gone to New Mexico and to have met with so many amazing activists  heavily invested in bettering their communities.

To see more photos from the Rural Roundtable in New Mexico, click here. 

Two Shutdowns Over Immigration Policies

Two Shutdowns Over Immigration Policies

José Arnulfo Cabrera
January 17, 2019

In our current government shutdown—this time over $5.7 billion dollars President Trump is demanding as a down payment to build a wall—I was thinking about last year’s much shorter shutdown (only 3 days) over a DACA fix and the many other numerous times politicians have used the security of undocumented people and families as a bargaining chip in political debates. This blog post is a reflection of my feeling and thoughts of the last year’s DACA fix during the appropriation process. This ISN’T what other DACA recipients or undocumented youth felt during this time.

My two younger sisters and I grew up in the rallies our mom would drag us to. My mom was an organizer and I hated it. My weekends and weeknights were always filled with meetings, rallies, protest, and vigils. But after being tricked to share my immigration story and then organize a rally at the age of 15, I fell in love with it. A few years later I got my first community organizing job while I was a student at Xavier University. I organized a group called YES, Youth Educating Society, a group for high school and college students who wanted to fight for immigrant rights, empower immigrant youth, and put pressure to elected officials to adopt pro-immigrant policies.

After the 2016 election, our membership grew and the following year we had 100 members across the greater Cincinnati area with 50 of them considered “active members.” On September 5, 2017, every DACA recipient and their loved ones’ nightmare happened. The Trump administration decided to end the DACA program. That night I went to bed with a 105 degree fever, exhausted from rapidly organizing a protest outside of Senator Portman’s Cincinnati office, and having to comfort my fellow YES members. I spent the rest of that night re-planning how to achieve my life goals as an undocumented citizen. I spent the rest of 2017 trying to pass all my classes so I could stay on track to graduate in May 2018, organizing rallies in support of the 2017 DREAM Act, coming to D.C. to lobby Ohio Senators and Representatives to support the DREAM Act, and participating in a sit-in at Senator Portman’s DC office. But the most challenging and stressful month was December when immigration advocates made their strongest push for a DREAM Act.

The current government shutdown reminds me of the one that happened in January 2018, and how they both resulted from immigration-related issues: DACA last year and building a border wall this year. In December 2017, Congress had to pass multiple short-term continuing resolution bills that would fund the government for the following year. Democratic leadership saw that moment as an opportunity to secure a Republican commitment to hold a vote on legislation that would protect   the 800,000 DACA recipients who felt the weight of deportation again after the Trump administration rescinded DACA. After several negotiation meetings between President Trump and Democratic leaders, a deal was made. Republicans would include a DACA fix to last few appropriations bills, and Democrats would agree to give President Trump the money to build the Wall. Activists made it clear to Leader Pelosi that they didn’t want that deal. We wanted a clean DREAM Act.

I was scared. I was freaking out. I kept a close eye on leading groups in DC who were organizing actions for a DACA solution, aiming to make this the last time we had to pass a bill that will give DACA recipients citizenship, instead of the threat of deportation.

I was thankful that those demonstrators were doing what needed to be done to put pressure on the Senate to pass a clean DREAM Act. I was angry at myself that my exams were on the same week all of this was happening, and I couldn’t go to DC to do my part. Then I realized that if the DREAM Act didn’t pass, in 2019 my DACA would expire and I would lose the job I got after graduating from college. Since September 5, 2017, I still didn’t know how I could accomplish my life goals without my DACA. Watching all of the action in DC kept reminding me that I still didn’t have a plan figured out.

This standoff resulted in a government shutdown from January 20-22, 2018. The shutdown ended when the House and the Senate passed a short-term continuing resolution funding the government until February 9. Part of the agreement was that the House and Senate would use that time to pass legislation that would protect DACA recipients. Instead, federal court orders in January and February extended DACA renewals for previously-approved DACA recipients. By the time Congress needed to pay additional funding for the federal government, there was no mention of a legislative solution for DACA. Since then, Congress has not considered the DREAM Act bill again.

This past December, we found Congress in a similar position they were in the previous year. They needed to pass seven appropriations bills to fund the government, including one for the Department of Homeland Security which would have given President Trump money for the wall. This time, no one wanted to put a DACA solution in the debate. In some weird way, I’m kind of glad. I don’t think I could take another emotional month like the one in December 2017. But this time, the fight for wall funding is still relevant and is the reason why  we’ve been in a government shutdown for 27 days. Before everyone at NETWORK left for the holiday break, we saw President Trump refuse to sign the funding deal that didn’t give him the $5 billion to build a wall on the US southern border. Coming back to the office this month I was disappointed by the lack of leadership President Trump has to re-open the government. President Trump has failed to get the funding for the wall but has succeeded in further dividing our country.

I know passing a clean DREAM Act, or even a comprehensive immigration reform bill, won’t be easy. It would most likely get worse before it gets good and we’ll definitely get scuffed-up, but we’ll get it. I have faith.

Not a Page in Your Handbook

Not a Page in Your Handbook

Garrison Mays
July 21, 2018

A few weeks ago, I took it upon myself to binge watch the second season of Dear White People, a series on Netflix. There was an episode where one of the supporting characters Lionel, a gay Black man, goes on a little adventure to find the right gay network where he can thrive and be himself. He goes through all the gay stereotype crowds: the Black gays, the theater gays, the overly sexual gays, etc. After his party hopping, he finds out that none of them accept him, regardless of the fact that they all share similar sexual identities. It should have worked out, right? Very wrong. Some people didn’t like Lionel because he wasn’t “gay enough,” others because he wasn’t “Black enough.” The list goes on as to why Lionel doesn’t fit other’s ideas of what he should be.

Like Lionel, I went to a Predominately White Institution (PWI) as an openly gay Black man.  However, unlike Lionel who had some sort of base network, I had a hard time finding a group  that understood and supported the three important attributes – my sexual orientation, my race, and my gender – that make me who I am.  In some groups, I got dumb questions about my blackness, and in others I got dumber questions about my gayness to the point where they weren’t inquisitive, but disrespectful.

Throughout my four years in college, it has been very difficult to feel 100% comfortable at this PWI. I have always bounced around from one white group to another, straight and gay groups alike, to better understand my place.  Lionel’s main network is made of thoughtful, smart, and decent Black people who don’t judge him by his gayness or his awkward blackness, but by his actions and the way he communicates. As my time was wrapping up at this PWI, I found a space that was judgement free with different types of people: straight, gay, Black, Latinx/Mexican, trans–all thoughtful and thought-provoking individuals that care about being inclusive and inquisitive about things that are unfamiliar.

I say all of this to say that Pride Month is a time for celebrating who you are. I for one bask in and appreciate this month so much as I try to find my place in this world that is just now coming around to the idea of the LGBTQ+ community. Nevertheless, this is an ongoing experience for me. I always try and fight the urge not to exclude a person because they don’t abide by the textbook or the website definition of what a queer person is. I’m not for everyone and vice versa–I understand that. But everyone deserves a chance to try and be comfortable in their surroundings. Happy Pride Month!

Garrison is a young chocolate smart-alec, who shares his opinion and wants to hear yours. He graduated from Xavier University in Cincinnati, OH in the spring of 2018 with a bachelor’s in marketing. He is excited to explore the opportunities that present themselves to him moving forward. He loves Beyoncé more than most, his favorite movies are The Incredibles and Reservoir Dogs, and you can find him lying in his hammock listening to the podcast The Read to decompress from people.

A Muslim and Black Woman in the Workplace

A Muslim and Black Woman in the Workplace

Aichetou Waiga
March 12, 2018

It was Saturday afternoon and I was well into my weekend routine of pajamas and catching up on my favorite daytime talk shows on YouTube. The day’s topic of discussion? A recent question posed by The New York Times: “Should you be yourself in the workplace?” I chuckled the moment I heard the question. I’ve never dedicated time to reflect on it, but it was already deeply rooted in me and in most women of color: being yourself in the workplace is simply not an option.

I know it may seem ridiculous to write about racial identity in the workplace in 2018, in a supposedly progressive America where more and more companies are celebrating and embracing diversity. However, I find that diversity in the workplace typically means a two-hour conference on race that leaves white people nervous to offend anyone, and people of color feeling dissatisfied. Diversity is much more complex than that; it should be a long-term commitment to hold people accountable for the ways company cultures lead to a lot of discomfort for the one-in-twenty person of color on the team. We could have endless conversations about what’s offensive and what to avoid saying, but the truth of the matter is that I can’t run to management every time a coworker says something inappropriate or offensive to me; I’d literally never get anything done. Furthermore, I don’t want to reinforce the stereotype of the “angry Black woman.”

I wasn’t always so wise though. I was under the impression that workplaces who value diversity would also want diversity of thought. I thought my disdain for Trump would be appreciated, if not celebrated. I thought my mourning of Philando and Trayvon would be understood. But that was not the case. Instead, I was summoned to a meeting with managers who were confused at the idea that someone would want to be themselves–that a person of color would be so bold as to carry their political views and emotions to their desk.  I was equally baffled that a company that celebrated diversity and wanted people of color as part of their culture would expect their workers to be “normal” when something so tragic happens within my community.

That was my awakening. No matter how much a company celebrates diversity, Black women must still water down our identities. These companies want us to be ourselves just enough to add some color, (and to be able to say 6.4% of their employees are African-American) but not so much that white people get uncomfortable. We as Black women have to master the art of code-switching, of learning to speak office language so as not to be deemed “ratchet” or unprofessional. We must know whiteness so well so we can be delicate with it. I find that white women—not all, but many — have mastered the art of crying wolf. As with many other aspects of my life, this is of course deeply rooted in slavery. White women have always been deemed more feminine, and therefore needing more protection from the dangerous Blacks. It’s no surprise that the aftermath of this can still be seen in our daily lives today.

My Muslim identity adds another layer of complexity, so I’ve also learned to hide that as well. For the first week or so at a new position, I always wear a turban, as opposed to my traditional hijab. I do not know how to explain this except that people of color know that everything we do must consider white people’s comfort. Everything I say, wear, and express must be white-washed enough to let white people into my world, but not to the point of shoving my identity in their faces. There’s always been this unspoken vibe that my identity is not the default in the workplace (or anywhere in mainstream culture). So I must know just how Black, just how Muslim, just how feminine I can be in public spaces without further perpetuating the stereotypes associated with these identities.

Black women must show up to work every day knowing that everything we do will be associated with our race. We show up to work knowing that our performance will be used, for better or for worse, in the hiring process of future candidates of color. We come to work every day knowing that we must be someone else for the next eight hours. Being our authentic selves is a privilege most of us will never experience at work.

Aichetou Waiga is a recent college graduate with a B.S. degree in Biology, Spanish and Peace and Justice studies. She is originally from Mauritania, West Africa, but has been living in the U.S. since 2007. She was recently accepted into Ohio University School of Medicine and aspires to be an OB/GYN and work with underrepresented women around the world. Before then, Aichetou is taking advantage of her time off from school by indulging in her hobbies which include her YouTube Channel (Bintou Waiga), reading, traveling and writing for her blog. 

Peacebuilding in Polarized Times

Peacebuilding in Polarized Times

Claire Guinta
March 15, 2018

In February, Sister Simone came to Marquette University to speak about “21st Century Poverty and the Challenge of Healing Our Nation.” Hearing about current divisions in our country, it struck me how connected polarization is to the isolation between different economic groups and the assumptions we make of “the other.”

During her talk I thought of isolation I see around me. I am a senior at Marquette, a Jesuit University that “strives to develop men and women who will dedicate their lives to the service of others, actively entering into the struggle for a more just society.” Yet, through perceptions of poverty and violence, there is often an “othering” of those who live in the Milwaukee neighborhoods directly surrounding my campus. These assumptions create barriers between us in the “bubble” and those living just a few blocks away.

“Individualism and polarization are driving us apart because we don’t know each other’s stories,” Sister Simone Shared, “And we don’t see this. So, what do we do?”

She proposed four simple ways each of us can be a part of revitalizing community and reclaiming hope:

  • Virtue of curiosity: Have a holy curiosity to build community with folks we don’t know. Listen to other people’s stories.
  • Virtue of sacred gossip: Share those stories that you discovered. It brings us together and spreads knowledge.
  • Virtue of joy: Joy is in the relationship, joy is in the discovery, joy is in being woven together in community.
  • Virtue of doing your part: Don’t try to do it all—we are all one part of the body.

Through my own journey I have seen how these virtues can transform an individual and a community. As a research assistant with the Marquette University Center for Peacemaking, I went door-knocking in the neighborhoods surrounding campus to collect survey data used to inform community initiatives. My first day door-knocking, I stepped onto the streets that had been described like the “shadowland from the Lion King.” I wrestled with that image in my head and tried to leave my assumptions behind. Quickly, I realized that the neighborhoods surrounding my campus were home to a diverse group of people (racially, economically, religiously, culturally). People were excited to share their opinions about their community and ready to see new community initiatives. When Sister Simone said that “hope is a communal virtue,” I thought of the people I met door-knocking.

When I returned to campus, I shared the survey results with the data team, but I also shared their stories with my friends. I found joy in making the connection with the neighborhood residents, but also in sharing what I had learned. It didn’t solve any headlining issues, but I was a part of a team working to revitalize a community. By making connections with “the other,” my assumptions faded away and were replaced by stories.

So, when I approach peacebuilding in these polarized times, I will be sure to have some holy curiosity, engage in sacred gossip, practice the virtue of joy, and seek out how I fit in to the greater picture.

Glaire Guinta is a senior at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin where she studies International Affairs, Spanish, and Peace Studies. Throughout her university career, Claire has been involved in various activities supporting immigrants and refugees, including trips to the borderlands and providing interpretation services in Milwaukee. She currently works at the Marquette University Center for Peacemaking.

Resisting the Lie of White Jesus

Resisting the Lie of White Jesus

Lindsay Hueston
December 22, 2018

Brown-skinned, poor, no home to call his own: this is how Jesus entered our world.

This is not the image that we in the U.S. typically think of. With the rise of European influence on Catholicism during the past few centuries, the Jesus we came to worship transformed into one that looked like the people in power: white.


I’m certain that the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, light-skinned Jesus does not look like the very Jesus that was born in Bethlehem more than two millennia ago. But which image is featured more prominently?

As Christianity grew and was used as a tool of power over centuries (think: Spanish Inquisition, colonialism in many parts of the world, Native American boarding schools, and other similar practices), dominant forces co-opted Jesus’s race to show that the religious leader others should be following looked like the people in charge.

The irony is that Jesus was condemned to death by the very people in charge, who didn’t share the same background as him. This idea–of a savior fleeing violence, of a messiah born into chaos–is important to remember today. This image is much more representative of our current reality of refugees and asylum-seekers coming to the United States than the gold-haloed images of the Holy Family as portrayed in most religious circles.

In the Latin American tradition of Las Posadas, community members reenact Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem, and their search for a place  where Jesus could be born in safety. Two people playing Mary and Joseph walk to designated churches or homes, singing and asking for a place to stay, while crowds follow behind them. It is a visceral, spiritual reminder of the desperate hope for welcome Mary and Joseph felt while anticipating Jesus’s birth: a similar hope that motivates families fleeing to the U.S. southern border at the moment.

Like what happens in las posadas, our government is not letting these families in. “There is no room for you,” Customs and Border Patrol essentially tells them. A familiar line for those who know the nativity story.

Instead of a stable, many migrants cannot find any place to rest. We are offering them no safe resting place for their children, but cages instead.

Members of the current administration, ironically, claim to use principles of their faith to guide their policies. It is this same faith, though—based on the life of Jesus—that should call them to extend welcome to the asylum seekers at our borders.

Jesus wasn’t white. In the U.S., due to the intertwined systems of oppression that make up racism and classism, the communities affected by these institutional harms are not white, either. Jesus, too, was affected by these “isms” in his life, but how quickly we forget.

When we continue to depict Jesus as white, we hide the fact he too was considered “other,” different from the powerful majority. In overlooking this critical history, the figure of Jesus is no longer an outsider preaching welcome and a radical love, but a member of the dominant ruling group whose name is weaponized in order oppress the “other.”

When we as a culture whitewash Jesus, we forget from where he came, and the circumstances he was born into. By remembering Jesus as an outcast, a refugee, a carpenter’s son, we can better understand the radical nature of his teachings in our current political climate.

Reflecting on Roots Camp: Activism in Motion

Reflecting on Roots Camp: Activism in Motion

Marshele Bryant and Ibby Han
January 7, 2019

Members of NETWORK’s Grassroots Mobilization and Communications teams recently attended RootsCamp, an “un-conference” for organizers, political campaign workers, and progressive activists.

NETWORK wanted to highlight the work of other emerging justice-seekers in activist spheres, and asked a few community members to reflect on their Roots Camp experiences.

Marshele Bryant, Statewide Campus Organizer at Virginia Student Power Network:

This was my first time attending Roots Camp and it was unlike any conference I’ve attended before. It is billed as an “un-conference,” allowing attendees to shape and guide the agenda from start to finish. There were more structured trainings that focused on lobbying and preparing to run for office but there were many more that pitched and picked up by other folks attending the conference. The toughest part of Roots Camp was deciding which sessions to attend! It was exciting to be surrounded by so many folks doing similar work but it was also a relief. There were sessions that catered to specific issues organizers face within the progressive sphere as well as strategy sessions for battling some of the biggest external challenges we as progressive organizers face.

One of the first sessions I attended was a frank discussion about how white supremacy and racism is a problem even in the most progressive spaces. A friend from Michigan Student Power attended a session dedicated to self-care, an important but often neglected aspect of our work. One session I attended had a few folks who worked on the Stacey Abrams campaign. Another session was led by folks from Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s digital team for her campaign. It’s one thing to watch inspiring candidates build progressive, grassroots campaigns that eventually capture national attention. It’s another to meet and engage with the folks who built and sustained those campaigns. Whether the campaigns they joined were successful or not, there was a hopeful energy that enveloped the conference.

I left Baltimore and returned to Chesapeake, Virginia with a renewed passion and pride for the work the Virginia Student Power Network has done and continues to do. Meeting with people who worked on some of the biggest campaigns of the election cycle caused me to reflect on what VSPN has achieved. With a staff of two people, we managed a cohort of 25 Vote Fellows who registered over 780 Virginians to vote and engaged thousands more in GOTV efforts. We realized the importance of integrating electoral work with the issue-based organizing that has driven our organization since its inception. And I can only look forward to the opportunities and challenges that lie ahead in 2019.

Ibby Han, Statewide Campus Organizer at Virginia Student Power Network:

This was my first time attending RootsCamp! Everywhere I went, I ran into a friend from a different corner of the movement world. It was a mingling of over 1,000 folks from political campaigns, grassroots organizing, and the tech world. The first session I attended was an open conversation on how white progressives tend to replicate systems of oppression in their organizations and campaigns. We had a great discussion centered on lived experiences and frustration felt by people of color working in majority white progressive spaces. The weekend offered many other opportunities: I hosted my own workshop, attended talks by Congresswoman-elect Ilhan Omar and Deepa Iyer, and built relationships with other AAPI organizers from across the country.

As a part of the Student Power Networks crew, we came with a unique perspective. Not only were we some of the youngest people there, we also shared our experimental model of youth-led year-round organizing that integrates electoral work, issue-based grassroots organizing, and policy work, all on a statewide level. RootsCamp was a great place to connect and reconnect across many movements and strategies.

As the 116th Congress kicks off, Roots Camp was the perfect place to channel progressives’ excitement and plan out strategies for the future, especially with regard to dismantling systemic racism and white supremacy in political and organizing spheres. We have hope for this new session of Congress, especially with so many Roots Camp activists leading the charge nationwide.

Our System of Mass Incarceration: Seeing the Parallels between Black Americans and Immigrants

Our System of Mass Incarceration: Seeing the Parallels between Black Americans and Immigrants

José Arnulfo Cabrera
December 19, 2018

In the last 40 years, the incarcerated population in the United States has increased 500%. There are currently 2.2 million people in U.S. prisons and jail. We incarcerate more people than any other country in the world thanks to drug and sentencing policies that disproportionately affects people of color. According to the NAACP, the effect of this callous approach to policing is riveting: Black people are incarcerated more than five times the rate than whites, the Black women prison population is twice that of white women, and Black children represent 32% of children who are arrested.  Then upon release, returning citizens face a myriad of obstacles that impede reintegration: employment background checks, low wages, and lack of affordable housing, coupled with banishment from government-sponsored safety net programs. For people of color, an encounter with the penal system could be its own death sentence. This is not how we as a country ought to be leading.

Yet, it doesn’t look like the U.S. will lose its standing as the world leader in mass incarceration with the presidency of Donald Trump, who campaigned as the “Law and Order” candidate.  Since Trump took office, a new Jim Crow 3.0 has emerged: the criminalization of undocumented immigrants. Undocumented Immigrants are considered criminals because they committed a misdemeanor crime, the equivalent to running a red light, for staying, or entering the U.S. without documentation. Under President’s Trump’s administration 448,000 undocumented immigrants have been returned or removed and includes those with and without prior convictions. Because President Obama’s DACA policy gave prosecutorial discretion to immigration judges, there are no records available for undocumented immigrants without prior convictions.

As a Government Relations associate responsible for managing a legislative portfolio that includes both immigration and criminal justice reform policy, I find it dangerously easy to spot the similar tactics used to criminalize immigrants and Black Americans. During Trump’s presidential campaign he said Mexican immigrants are rapists, and that they bring drugs and crime to the U.S. This past mid-term election cycle President Trump retweeted a fear-mongering campaign ad that portrayed immigrants as dangerous criminals who we must keep out of the U.S. The video bore a notable resemblance to the 1988 Republican “Willie Horton” presidential campaign ad now infamous for the “dog-whistle” racism it employed. While I’d like to believe these fear-mongering tactics don’t work, 34,000 of the 2.2 million people incarcerated in the U.S. are immigrants held in ICE facilities, and 60% of those incarcerated are people of color.

When we begin to look at how immigrants and Black Americans are incarcerated, we find another scary similarity. Since 2000, the amount of people incarcerated in private prisons has increased by 47% and the amount of immigrants held in private facilities has increased 442% since 2002. The corporations that manage these prisons and detention facilities are GEO Group, Core Civic, and Management and Training Corporation, which require the states in which they are located to arrest and imprison a center amount of people in their prison to make a profit. Because of this practice, it is in their best interests that the U.S. incarceration and detention rate does not decline. Additionally, the prisons owned by these corporations are almost always located in the middle of nowhere, making it difficult for the families and lawyers of incarcerated people to visit them. These tactics are used to make it harder for people of color to seek the justice they deserve.

The United States has created a system that values incarcerating individuals more than helping them return to their communities to be self-sufficient and contribute to society as we all do. Our country views a criminal as people who have always been bad, and will continue to be bad. But the only true evil in this system is mass incarceration.

 

(feature image courtesy of the California Innocence Project)

NETWORK’s New Year’s Resolutions

NETWORK’s New Year’s Resolutions

Alannah Boyle
January 1, 2019

We asked NETWORK staff to share their social justice goals and resolutions for the New Year. As we enter 2019, here’s what staff members are planning to incorporate into their lives:

My New Year’s Resolution Is To…

 

“Be a better food consumer.  I want to only buy food that I will consume and making more of an effort to use up food before it goes bad.  Additionally I want to cut out plastic bags in my shopping.”

-Erin Sutherland, Grassroots Mobilization Associate

 

“Live more simply so I can give more generously.”

-Catherine Gillette, Grassroots Mobilization Coordinator

 

“Follow more women and femmes of color on social media and read their blogs.”

-Meg Olson, Grassroots Mobilization Manager

 

“Cut down on my wasteful consumerism. In 2019 I will buy a maximum of 10 new articles of clothing all year”

-Alannah Boyle, Grassroots Mobilization Associate

 

“Try to greet each day with joy and welcome.”

-Laura Peralta-Schulte, Senior Government Relations Advocate

 

“Welcome the new Representative from my hometown (Chrissy Houlahan, PA-06) and introduce her to NETWORK! I’d also like to get more involved in local social justice issues, particularly concerning homelessness, affordable housing, and gentrification.”

– Lindsay Hueston, Communications Associate

 

“My New Year’s resolution is to read more books about domestic and international social justice issues so that I can have a deeper understanding of them, especially how issues are intersectional.”

-Colleen Ross, Communications Coordinator

 

Wishing all in our NETWORK community a happy and healthy 2019. May our work for justice continue!

Recognizing the Holiness of Bethlehem

Recognizing the Holiness of Bethlehem

Alannah Boyle
December 24, 2018

As I reflect on the story of Jesus’s birth, I am struck each time about the openness and generosity this story is contingent upon. An innkeeper opening the doors to his stable and allowing a stranger to stay allowed for the circumstances of Jesus’s birth. Ten months ago, I had the opportunity to visit Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus. When in Bethlehem, I was able to focus on this same openness and experience it in the people I met, sharing stories, and breaking bread. We shared this deep human connection and recognition of the holiness of where we were standing.

As the season of Advent draws to a close and Christmas quickly approaches, I find myself reflecting on my time in the birthplace of Jesus. Preparing to spend Christmas with my family, I saved many gifts made of olive wood native to the area. The holiness of the land, and bringing something tangible back from Bethlehem for my family was important to me.

One of my favorite videos from my trip is in Manger Square where I filmed the bustle of businesses and tourists in the square, capturing the Church of the Nativity. The Muslim Call to Prayer is playing loudly throughout the city and the square. This moment, like many during my trip, reminded me of the ways in which we are all interconnected and how deeply the roots of multiple religions stem from this region of the world. In such a divisive time in our country and world, the interconnection I witnessed during my trip to Bethlehem is important to keep at the front of our minds as we at NETWORK continue our work for justice.