Who's Rosa Parks?

p (Editor#39;s note: This article was written in mid 2010.nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;We now share it as part of Revolutionary Worker Scholar#39;s collection of essays)/p p nbsp;/p p nbsp;/p p nbsp;/p p iItrsquo;s got our beautiful children /i/p p iLiving in all kinds of hell/i/p p iCoping to survive and/i/p p ispan class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Makin’" data-scaytid="1"Makinrsquo;/span it well/i/p p iSwinging together in/i/p p iMisty darkness with all/i/p p iTheir love to share/i/p p iSmiling their Christ-like /i/p p iForgiveness that only a/i/p p iGhetto cross could bear/i/p p i--Poet span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Piri" data-scaytid="3"Piri/span Thomas /i/p p 　/p p I recently started a new job with a new security guard company after a year and a half of service with XYZ Security Company. The new company is quite large, with offices all over the globe. I sat through training with 4 other guard prospectsmdash;young men of color looking quite hungry for employmentmdash;if not the dinner plate. I was the middle-aged guy whorsquo;d seen these young men beforemdash;in one incarnation or anothermdash;in security company training past. We sat through films about sexual harassment, workplace safety, domestic terrorism etc.nbsp; I looked around the office as the training was administered--i saw all the requisite symbols of patriotism: the flag, the memorials to 911, a picture of some long dead European explorer etc.nbsp; And to my amazement, i found out that one ofnbsp;my fellownbsp;guard trainees was a young man named emMao X. Che/em.nbsp; The office air became thick with irony./p p The classroom discussions were facilitated by a nice man whom many of the guards referred to as Ancient Age. Age was a portly man with short-cropped gray hair. He recalled his experiences as a guardmdash;how he foiled a bank robbery attempt and de-escalated any number of potentially dangerous situations. I looked at the manrsquo;s rotund physique. The bank incident surely happened long ago, when he was thinner and able to run (IE: haul ass) a block or two./p p He had a fatherly way of speakingmdash;the kind yoursquo;d expect in a counselor or minister. I sat wondering why he was in security and why people called him Ancient Age. He wasnrsquo;t that old. Turns out hersquo;d been in security for nearly 30 years after serving in the military. I felt ashamed for thinking that the reason he was called Ancient Age was because he drank it (see: http://span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="en.wikipedia.org" data-scaytid="5"en.wikipedia.org/span/wiki/Ancient_Age). At the end of the classroom training and testingmdash;which I passed with 100% in all categories (thank God for open book tests), I followed Ancient Age to the fitting room where I was issued my new uniform./p p I put on my new security guard uniform. Therersquo;s a new car smell quality that comes with a new uniform--as if the poor worker at the uniform factory stuffed a cardboard air freshener into every pocket. I took a deep breath. The company is very strict about appearance and is steadfast about clean uniforms. I was given an assignment. I walked out the door feeling like a new man./p p I was sent to a Public Housing Complex to meet the Security Site Supervisor who I will refer to as B. B was a somewhat muscular man who looked like he may have played high school football in his glory years (I too was on a high school football team, my only glory: The uncanny ability to pluck splinters from my ass--supplied by the copious benches I rode). He led me into an office where he informed me that there was a lot of violence at the complex and that many black people lived there. He indicated that there was loitering, gangs, domestic violence, graffiti, and a recent fight on the property that involved 40 people, some of whom had baseball bats./p p He spoke eloquently. I indicated that I was familiar with black people, having seen them on span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="buses" data-scaytid="7"buses/span and music videos. I looked at his dark knit sport shirt with some kind of logo stitched into it. These types of guys always seem to wear shirts like that for some reason. He told me of the high turnover rate of guards at the site. He asked me if I was interested. I needed the work, the hours. I said yes. Come back in two hours, he said./p p I returned to the complex and entered the security office. I met 2 young men in dark, SWAT-like uniforms minus semi-automatic weapons. On a desk was a row of books. I scanned the titles for poetry or novels or books by POOR Press authors but all I saw was science fiction and titles pertaining to criminal justice. Next to the books was a framed tribute to American patriotsmdash;including the firemen who died during the 911 attacks. Next to that was a computer monitor flickering with images relayed by cameras that were strategically placed all over the property. I was briefed by the guards who told me what the site-supervisor had told me: the complex is dangerous--gangs and loitering, people who do not value life etc. I was given paperwork to fill out indicating the beginning of my shift./p p I walked alongside my fellow guard, a young guy in his late 20rsquo;s, past the units and parked cars. There were many children. Some looked at me and asked, Is that the new guard? The kids had wide eyes filled with possibilities. I looked and saw future astronomers, poets, artists, teachers, philosophers, writers, organizers--elders. Yes, Irsquo;m the new guard I answered. The kids searched my face and ran off. We kept walking. We saw a group of young people gathered on the property, just standing and talking. I was told that this was loitering (which the guard pronounced ispan class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="lootering" data-scaytid="9"lootering/span/i) and that I should indicate in my officerrsquo;s report that I observed gang members congregated on the property. How do you know they are gang members? I asked. The guard indicated that the young people were not residents and that they stand around intimidating residents with their unruly behavior. But I didnrsquo;t see the young men behaving in a threatening or unruly way. We walked by them and proceeded on our patrol./p p I was told of the many house rules, which, if broken, can result in a write up that could be cause for eviction. You could be written up for loitering, excessive noise, parking in an unauthorized spot among other things. As I listened, it seemed there was a house rule for everything. I began to feel like this was a controlled environment, a place of confinement rather than a place of residence. I recalled the words of Henry David Thoreau:/p p nbsp;/p p emAny fool can make a rule and any fool will mind it/em/p p nbsp;/p p We continued our patrol and came upon an area of the property that is named in honor of civil rights figure Rosa Parks. My fellow guard informed me that we were at the "Rosa Parks section of our patrol". Rosa Parks I said. Whorsquo;s that? The guard told me he didnrsquo;t know. Itrsquo;s just the name, he said. I asked another guard the same question during the next patrol. Rosa Parks I said, That must be the person who conceived the idea of building this housing complex, right? The guard looked at me and said, Yeshellip;she is the one who thought of it. I took a nice deep breath of air. Neither of the guards knew who Rosa Parks was./p p But what we did know--thanks to the core of the non-profit industrial complex and racist police mentality that is held in such span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="salvific" data-scaytid="11"salvific/span esteem in span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="Amerikkk--was" data-scaytid="13"Amerikkk--was/span that this housing complex has lots of black people who loiter, deal drugs, involve themselves in gangs and have no value for human life. I looked at my fellow guard, an immigrantmdash;very personable--a nice guy, as well as the other guard, an immigrant as well. Itrsquo;s a shame their energies are focused on this type of workmdash;anchored by ideas fueled by the span class="scayt-misspell" data-scayt_word="PO’Lice" data-scaytid="15"POrsquo;Lice/span, the prison and non-profit industrial complexes./p p Would they see things differently if they knew who Rosa Parks was? Would it make a difference? We continued our walk towards the security office. We walked past people, not just black, but brown and yellow too. I looked at the kids on the sidewalks and driveways. I looked at their eyes and I again saw future astronomers, poets, artists, teachers, philosophers, writers, organizers, elders. They looked at my fellow security officer. They looked at me. What did they see?/p p 　/p p 　/p p copy; 2010 Revolutionary Worker Scholar/p p font size="2"　/font/p dl dt 　/dt /dl p font size="2"　/font/p p font size="2"　/font/p p font size="2"　/font/p p font size="2"　/font/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p p 　/p