In a previous posting (http://www.youngpeoplefor.org/blog/posts/3663), I included a letter from Black Panther member, Assata Shakur (who some may know as the aunt of hip hop legend, Tupac Shakur), who is living in exile in Cuba. I am still processing the content of her letter, as I am reading it from the race/gender lenses.

As I read her letter, I thought about the current state of our country. I thought about the billions of dollars that are being funneled towards a war that not only resulted in the loss of Iraqis and Americans, but the loss of our allies and international credibility. I thought about Hurricane Katrina and questioned what's taking so long to rebuild New Orleans, and even why little media attention/coverage addressed the fact that Cuba and Venezuela both sent relief efforts during the natural disaster. I was puzzled as to why California, which many may consider the most "progressive" state in the nation, can continue to spend 2.5 times more on building prisons than the UC system of higher education, thereby making the entrance to a prison cell more accessible than a college lecture hall (then we wonder why American businesses draw professionals from abroad when our education system is not able to keep up with demand). The sad part of it all was when I had to think twice about my blog and response to Shakur's letter, just in case my posting would be misinterpreted or misused. Why do I hesitate to express my raw opinions when my American identity tells me I am endowed with the right to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness"? At this crucial, fragile time of American history, where government seems to turn its back on its own people, am I justified in my sentiments of paranoia? 

For more reflection, I've included some lines from Tupac's song, "Changes", a song that I've been lately listening to quite frequently (recommend listening to whole song and paying attention to the lyrics). Amazing how relevant his words from almost 12 years ago are to our world today:

Give the crack to the kids who the hell cares
one less hungry mouth on the welfare
First ship 'em dope & let 'em deal the brothers
give 'em guns step back watch 'em kill each other

I see no changes all I see is racist faces
misplaced hate makes disgrace to races
We under I wonder what it takes to make this
one better place, let's erase the wasted
Take the evil out the people they'll be acting right
'cause both black and white is smokin' crack tonight
and only time we chill is when we kill each other
it takes skill to be real, time to heal each other
And although it seems heaven sent
We ain't ready, to see a black President, uhh
It ain't a secret don't conceal the fact
the penitentiary's packed, and it's filled with blacks

And still I see no changes can't a brother get a little peace
It's war on the streets & the war in the Middle East
Instead of war on poverty they got a war on drugs
so the police can bother me