Introduction
For this edition of the Iron House Drum I'm taking the liberty of printing a "book review" that I was asked to write for the upcoming edition of the Journal of Prisoners on Prisons. (See review on back cover for subscription information.)
The book is Eating Bitterness: A Vision Beyond The Prison Walls (Poems and Essays of Arthur Solomon), available for $14.95 from N.C. Press Limited, Box 452, Station A, Toronto, Ont., Canada M5W 1H8.
In addition to a review of this book, I'd like to simply state that Native American prisoners are struggling for the right to freely practice their traditional spiritual beliefs in many prisons in the United States. For those of you (Native American prisoners) who are experiencing problems in this respect, you can receive some significant support from the Center for Advocacy of Human Rights (CAHR) by sending the CAHR a stamped envelope with a brief statement of specifically what your situation is along with the names and mailing addresses of your warden, prison director and chaplain. The CAHR supports Native American prisoners by working to educate and sensitize prison officials about Native American prisoners' needs. If the officials remain intolerant and abusive, the CAHR assists Native prisoners with the preparation of effective civil rights litigation in order to bring adequate spiritual programming into the prisons. You can contact the CAHR via legal mail by addressing your correspondence to:
Deborah Garlin Attorney/President
CAHR
P.O. Box 880
Ranchos de Taos, NM 87557-0880.
For those of you on the outside who would like to support the struggle for Native American prisoners' religious freedom rights, you should contact the CAHR also. If you sent a stamped envelope and a request for more information on how you can be supportive, the CAHR will get in touch with you. *
Review
I spent a decade in a maximum security prison in which the prison officials prohibited virtually every outward expression of Native spiritual beliefs. Even Native spiritual leaders and elders were denied access to the prison for the purpose of praying, teaching and counseling with us. If we attempted to practice our spirituality, such as by wearing our hair in accordance with our tribal traditions, we were beaten to the ground by a gang of guards dressed in full riot gear, our hair was shorn from our heads, our mothers were called red nigger whores, and we were placed in solitary confinement for months on end, where the Christian chaplains would come and attempt to have us accept their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ as our own. Yes, my Brothers and I knew what it meant to be "eating bitterness," because we ate it every day and night. It's been over three years since I was released from that torture chamber, and still the taste of that bitterness is in my mouth. And today, the struggle for religious freedom continues within the walls of many prisons, and many Native women and men continue to eat bitterness, and to suffer horribly for merely attempting to worship the Creator in accordance with the Creator's instructions.
If it wasn't for Art Solomon's letters, poems and essays which managed their way into my hands and heart, my bitterness would have probably destroyed me completely. An Anishnabe elder and spiritual leader whom I've come to love and respect dearly over the years, Art has dedicated his life to the spiritual welfare of his people, to all Native people, and to the earth and Her children. And he has been going into the prisons to pray and counsel with our Native people for over thirty years. Now I've read his new book from cover to cover at least 5 or 6 times in the last month that I've had a copy of it, and I'm sure it will long be tattered and worn before I'm finished with it. When my own anger and bitterness begin to consume my thoughts, I know I can pick this book up, as I have always picked up Art's words of wisdom, courage and hope, and I never fail to find healing there.
I'm very honored to have been asked to review Art's new book, but how does one "review" age old wisdom or the love that flows from the embrace of a spiritual elder's being? All I can say is "Thank you, Art, for always being there. I love you." And I know that I speak for many others who have found encouragement, hope and peace in Art's words. Here is one of the things that was published in his latest book. It was first presented as a Convocation Address to the graduating class of Laurentian University, Sudbury (Ontario) in June 1986: