February 17, 2010

http://www.elnuevodia.com/momentocrucialparapresopoliticoboricua-673046.html

Translated by Jan Susler

WASHINGTON – Some time after this week, a U.S. commission can decide whether to grant parole to Puerto Rican political prisoner Carlos Alberto Torres, who in April will have served 30 years in prison.

“There is no deadline for the decision,” informed his attorney Jan Susler. But it’s a fact that soon, Torres, 57 years old, will learn the ruling on his second bid for parole in 15 years. The first was denied.

A year ago, when he was just a week from the new hearing before the U.S. Parole Commission, prison authorities at Pekin (Illinois) accused him of having three “shanks” in his cell.

One of the prisoners who shares the cell with Torres— who is serving a 70 year prison sentence after being found guilty of seditious conspiracy for his connections with the clandestine group Armed Forces of National Liberation (FALN)— admitted the “shanks” were his.

The charges were dismissed, but they were reinstated, and as part of the parole application process, he’s had to once again defend against them, in spite of the fact that the person who hid the weapons provided a sworn statement saying his cellmates were not responsible.

In spite of pressure from the Bureau of Prisons, the hearing examiner on the case has recommended that Torres be granted parole in July. The decision is in the hands of the Commissioners who make up the Parole Commission. “We are moderately optimistic,” stated the chair of the Human Rights Committee in Puerto Rico, Eduardo Villanueva, former president of the Bar Association.

“No Puerto Rican political prisoner has served more time in prison than he has,” said Susler, who stated that the Bureau of Prisons is trying to “sabotage the process.” In addition to the “shanks” accusation, they have classified Torres, for the first time, as a “security threat,” and are monitoring letters he receives in Spanish, including those from his attorneys, among other measures.

Another Puerto Rican political prisoner, Oscar López, also connected to the FALN, will have served 29 years in prison this year, the same number of years served by the Nationalist, Oscar Collazo, for the 1950 shooting at Blair House, president Harry Truman’s residence.

International support

Villanueva maintains that the U.S. Parole Commission has surely never had to deal with a parole application that has received more support from a people, including political leaders of the three ideologies and religious organizations on the Island. “More than ten towns have approved resolutions for the release of Carlos Alberto and Oscar,” he added.

Petitions supporting Torres’ parole have also been sent from throughout the world, including Mexico.

López hasn’t wanted to apply for parole, aware of the past experience of other prisoners, and he hasn’t wanted any such privilege while Torres is still in prison.

The other Puerto Rican political prisoner in U.S. prison, Avelino González Claudio, recently plead guilty to two charges related to the $7 million robbery of Wells Fargo, in Hartford (Connecticut), which took place September 12, 1983, for which The Macheteros took responsibility.

“In my interview with Claridad a few weeks after leaving (prison in 1999), I said I preferred shoes suitable to living out in the country over high heels. That was like a sneak peek at what was to come, because I can’t even count how many pairs I’ve used working up here (in Guavate).”

For Alicia Rodríguez, one of the ex Puerto Rican political prisoners released in 1999, the past 10 years have been “a constant challenge.” Instead of returning to Chicago, she preferred to move to Puerto Rico, where she’d never lived before. She’s had so many experiences since then- for purposes of this interview we are separating them into two parts: this time with Alicia, and the next time with her sister, who is also an ex political prisoner, Ida Luz, better known as Lucy.

When they arrived in Puerto Rico, both sisters went to live in an apartment in San Juan. However, given the high cost of housing, in December of 2000, they moved to a small apartment in Guavate. Alicia had a car which, even she admits, “we didn’t know how it worked, and we didn’t check the oil, and I burned up the engine.” They were able to fix the car with money from a previous accident.

In 2001, Alicia converted her bedroom into a pottery studio and moved her futon to the living room. The artisan certificate from Fomento gave her to opportunity to get a kiln, a wheel and clay.

Alicia worked with Remi the Clown (José Vega) the first two years. She met him when he visited her in prison. “He was very patient with me,” admits Alicia. And the most difficult thing of that first job after 19 years in prison, she recalls, was “the language. Speaking and understanding Spanish. Remi understood this and always helped me with the spirit of a brother. Feeling that support in that moment of my life was really important. And something I like about him is the respect he has for his public and for the children. I stopped working with him because we decided on this project, which was to build our house and studio.”

And in 2004, a small vacant structure on a hill in Guavate, near where they were living, became what would soon be the home of Alicia, Lucy, and their mother Josefina, who, since they left prison, spends several months a year with her daughters, especially the frigid winter months in Chicago where she maintains her home.

“In 2004 we started to work on the house, and in 2005, we moved in,” says Alicia.

Enthusiastic with her studio, she moved to another stage, that of working on the building that would become their house, and that of constructing a second floor for their studio. A $15,000 loan, added to the sales price of the house, made it possible to provide the first floor with floor tiles, windows, doors, a kitchen, electricity, and a septic tank, “and my mother bought the refrigerator and the stove she wanted, because that’s her kitchen,” relates Alicia.

The photos she keeps of the original structure that resembled a warehouse, and its surroundings greatly contrast with what it is today. Plants and fruit trees now surround the house, where before there was grayish growth and tuff rock. On the second floor is the studio. To make this transformation happen, Alicia carried cement blocks, sand, stones and cement, pulling a wheelbarrow tied to her waist, up an improvised ramp from the road to the house, where the material couldn’t be brought. She keeps talking while she shows photos of “the brigades” of friends and compañeros who helped her with the construction. “We started to work here. It was May, and it rained for 23 days. So we worked on the land, weeding, cleaning, working with the earth. And that introduction to the earth led me to know the space and make me feel part of it.” Alicia arranged and installed the PVC tubes to bring water to the house, and “when they broke, I would put on a poncho and boots and go out in the rain to fix them.” She also dug ditches to deviate the water away from the structure. One of the earth walls had occasioned a collapse.

Alicia is conscious that “someone with money can build something pretty solid, but with few resources, you have to deal with what there is.” So, she explains, it’s taken several years to finish the house and the studio. But since then, even though there are some problems, she has been producing ceramic pieces, including beautiful sets of dishes. Power outages gravely affect kiln firings. Alicia changed the automatic mechanism to manual “thinking that it was better, and when it kept over firing my pieces, I called Texas (where the manufacturer is) and they told me that I’d simplified it so much that it would never reach the desired temperature.” So she had to repair the kiln on her own. “I remember that (the manufacturer) told me to get a multimeter and check the amps and the voltage, and I said, ‘how do I do that?’ And, like Lucy says, I’ve graduated.”

There is a lot of love in this house, humble but full of color. There is peace. The months her mother spends with her, they try to catch up for lost time. Several dogs and cats also have a space at home. Alicia takes responsibility for almost everything. “Because you can’t call maintenance. You have to look and say ‘who’s going to fix this?’ Well, I am. And if you don’t know how, you call Ramoncito at the hardware store and ask him how you can fix it.”

Alicia admits that “I sleep alone here, with my dogs, when Lucy and Mom aren’t here. I feel well protected in Puerto Rico, but not outside of Puerto Rico.” She has no doubt that her ancestors are present in this Puerto Rican nation and “the ancestors are not forgotten.” She recognizes that because of them, she never felt alone “in those four walls in prison, because I always feel that we are a race worthy of struggle.”

How do you see those years in prison now, from this life so far from that life?
“As an education. It was a time of much challenge, of growth. I don’t see it with bitterness. Sometimes there is pain, difficult moments, though not so much for what I experienced. I remember the faces of the women, mostly from state prison, where I spent 16 and a half years in maximum security.” There, she shared with marginalized, mistreated, discriminated, and raped women, who she never judged, understanding that their conduct, “often perverse,” was the result of those experiences. She describes prison as “institutions of pain,” and in the last 9 years of prison, she was with women who had killed their children. “And I, who had never had children, it was something I had to deal with, to look at them and not judge them. That requires a different perspective than what prevails in society… to get out of that mold, to break the mold.”

Alicia doesn’t deny that “in prison there was torture intended to drive us crazy and really to destroy us. But they didn’t break our human soul, nor the soul connected to a very deep identity. It is not just my identity as a woman, but also the right of a nation to take the concept of freedom to other levels. Puerto Rico has the inherent right to defend national dignity. That’s what our jailers intended to stop with all those years behind bars. It was a constant struggle with those jailers.”

Now she describes herself as “a volcano that is moved and moves,” with “a lot that wants to come out,” but not in a traditional way. Among the things she likes, she says, “I love to draw and paint,” and warns that “you have to be patient…” And she has been achieving that patience, in the process of sowing a seed and harvesting its fruit. A process that compares to human beings. “Often, we don’t want to let the seed germinate little by little. You want to be running, looking outside. But the human being must look within, touch bottom.” Even when you recognize that “I don’t know much about planting seeds, (but) I am trying to understand and enter into that world, because I am the daughter of farmers; I come from the mountains. It’s in our blood.”
In her narrative, she doesn’t forget her still imprisoned compañeros. “Oscar, Berti and Avelino”… “this isn’t a time of desperation for them. One looks and observes as does the farmer. Is a storm coming? Then we prepare for the storm, because the storm passes. You watch and you know when, whether or not the sun comes out, that the seed is in the earth, protected until it can grow, until the right conditions.”

See article, “NBHRN Call to Re-Energize Campaign to Free Oscar and Carlos, HostosCC 12-12-09.” for slide show.

Avelino agradece a sus familiares y amigos la solidaridad en las ‘Octavitas pa Avelino’

http://pr.indymedia.org/news/2010/01/41299.php

El prisionero político puertorriqueño Avelino González Claudio agradeció la celebración de las ‘Octavitas pa Avelino’ el pasado sábado 16 de enero de 2010 y convocadas por el Comité de Amigos y Familiares de Avelino cuyo fin es luchar por la excarcelación del compañero.

En un mensaje enviado desde la prisión Avelino nos dice:

“Para mí, ustedes representan un rayo de esperanza y estímulo para perseverar y seguir luchando. He recibido muchas postales de Navidad de hermanos de diferentes partes del mundo. Gracias por ayudarme a mantenerme vivo. Siempre estaré en la lucha. Estoy físicamente lejos de mi patria, pero la llevo en mi alma. Mi orgullo patrio está presente en todas mis acciones. Una vez más agradezco su solidaridad”.

Decenas de personas asistieron a esta fiesta en la culminación de la tradición boricua con el objetivo de recaudar fondos para cubrir los gastos legales y el traslado de familiares que visitan al preso. Actualmente las visitas, las donaciones económicas y la comunicación con Avelino está limitada por el gobierno de Estados Unidos a sólo cinco familiares inmediatos. Las aportaciones solidarias con este luchador se deben canalizar a través del Comité Familiares y Amigos de Avelino González Claudio.

En la actividad se presentaron varios artistas solidarios, entre ellos Gamalier Pagán, Flora Santiago y Tito Auger quienes ofrecieron de su talento rodeados de comida típica, dominó y fresco ambiente en los campos de Cupey. Además, la ex-prisionera política Dylcia Pagán presentó un documental titulado ‘Dos Héroes’ dedicado a los también prisioneros políticos Oscar López y Carlos Alberto Torres. Este último está a la expectativa de salir en libertad bajo palabra después de estar alrededor de 30 años tras las rejas.

A los visitantes se nos exhortó a continuar atentos y cooperando activamente con la lucha por la excarcelación de nuestro compañero.

www.masenlucha.org

Attached is the letter to the parole board. We want to try to get in as many as possible by next Tuesday to show them how much support Carlos has.  Please sign the attached letter and mail it into the Parole Board.  The address is on the letter.

Download petition here.

http://claridadpuertorico.com/content.html?news=28FC2CD9304856266F4103385A5DD5CA

The Federal Bureau of Prisons (BOP) of the United States government continues to obstruct the parole of Puerto Rican political prisoner Carlos Alberto Torres, while Torres is supposedly set for a hearing with the U.S. Parole Commission’s (USPC) hearing examiner next Tuesday, January 19.

Several related, coinciding facts appear to be the responsibility of the BOP, including that on December 9, 2009, prison authorities at FCI Pekin, Illinois, classified the Puerto Rican in a “high security” group, allegedly for his “association with domestic terrorism.” As a result, Carlos Alberto was denied access to email, which all the other prisoners are being granted. When Torres asked why he was classified into this group after 29 years of prison and exemplary conduct, and that this could affect the recommendation for parole, he was offered no explanation, verbally or in writing.

Attorney Jan Susler, legal advisor to the Puerto Rican political prisoner, revealed that Carlos Alberto learned of his next parole hearing only recently, after a prison official told him that on November 24, the USPC had told the prison they wanted to convene another hearing to address the disciplinary issue.

The chain of tactics of provocative incidents by the BOP dates back to December of 2008, when prison authorities moved a group of ten prisoners to Torres’ unit. On more than one occasion, Torres asked that two of the cellmates be moved, but his request was denied. On January 14, 2009, two days before Torres was scheduled for a parole hearing, prison officials searched his unit and claimed to have found a shank in one of the bathrooms. This resulted in postponing the parole hearing.

Although one of the prisoners in the unit, Maurice Wilkins, took responsibility for possession of the shank and said that no one else was responsible, on January 22, prison officials found Torres and the rest of the prisoners guilty of knowing about the shanks, a finding resulting in a punishment of 60 days in segregation, no visits, no phone calls, no access to the commissary, among other restrictions. On January 31, Wilkins again assumed responsibility, this time in a sworn statement. Due to this, and the support of a campaign of letters sent to the BOP denouncing the process and demanding a new hearing, in April the regional director admitted that there had been errors in the process, and sent the incident report back to the prison to be revised. In May, prison officials responded that the incident report had been dismissed.

Finally, the parole hearing was held on May 26, 2009, via video conference with the USPC hearing examiner, who recommended that Carlos Alberto be paroled in April of 2010. Carlos Alberto will have served exactly 30 years of prison on the targeted date. The final decision, whether to adopt the hearing examiner’s recommendation, was to take place within 21 days. But once again, between June and July, prison officials made false accusations against Carlos Alberto, and subjected him to a new hearing. On July 28, the USPC informed him they would postpone their decision for 90 days, pending the resolution of the disciplinary charges.

Not satisfied with this result, in September (2009) a prison “intelligence officer and translator” told Carlos Alberto that they had received “orders from above” that they were to monitor his movements, and that in the future his correspondence in Spanish was to be translated outside the prison, which could delay his mail for a month.

If he had gone to the hearing without incident, and the USPC had adopted the recommendation of the hearing officer, Carlos Alberto would have had the right to be released in October of 2009, to what is known as a “halfway house,” and in April of 2010 to be released on parole.

As a result of the situation, a campaign is being waged in Puerto Rico as well as in the United States, sending letters to BOP director Harley G. Lappin, to stop harassing Carlos Alberto, to expunge the finding of guilt from his file, and to inform the parole commission he has done so.

“In terms of law, in terms of justice, if these hearings are not pro forma, Carlos Alberto should be paroled in April, in conformity with the recommendation of the hearing examiner who presided over the previous hearing. Under no moral or political justification, under no sense of justice, should he remain in prison,” responded attorney Eduardo Villanueva, concerning the hearing set for January 19.

The spokesperson for the Human Rights Committee, which wages the campaign for the release of all Puerto Rican political prisoners, observed that Carlos Alberto is one of the longest held political prisoners in the West, and the longest held Puerto Rican in prison for political reasons.

Carlos Alberto Torres and Oscar Rivera were accused of the conceptual offense of seditious conspiracy, and Villanueva called irrational the United States government’s insistence on keeping the Puerto Rican independentistas in prison.

Avelino still being denied medical attention

Family and friends of political prisoner Avelino González Claudio are hoping that the authorities of Suffield Correctional Center and the State University of Connecticut comply in the next two weeks with a court order that González Claudio receive medical attention from a specialist.

The health of this independentista fighter began to be affected a few months after being moved to the prison in the state of Connecticut, following his arrest on the Island in February of 2008, after almost 15 years in clandestinity. Juan González Pedrosa, one of Avelino’s sons, said that he visited his father in early December, and that the symptoms of trembling and lack of coordination in his hands and legs have progressed at an alarming rate. It was clear that before being in prison, his father was in good health. In March of 2008, the first symptoms began, along with a condition of high blood pressure. From that moment, his family, friends and attorneys have made effort administratively, and with a letter writing campaign, to get him the specialized medical attention he needs.

As a result of these efforts, González reported, they learned that doctors from the two prisons where his father has been recommended that he be seen by a specialist, but the Medical Plan Advisory Board refused service on three occasions. He stated that in Connecticut, the prison population’s health services are privatized, with a contract with the State University.

Because there is no federal prison in Connecticut, González Claudio is held in the maximum security institution at Suffield, CT. Visits and telephone calls are limited to immediate family. Juan González described his father as very thin, and that the trembling in his hands has for the moment not allowed him to respond to the many letters he receives. He also warned that the prison does not allow people to send him money directly. Anyone interested in making a contribution can do so with the Avelino González Committee, Apartado 10363, San Juan, Puerto Rico, 00922.

December 22, 2009

[Translation by Jan Susler. The original Spanish article can be found online through the following link or following this translation.]

http://claridadpuertorico.com/content.html?news=BD365872304856266FB12E2FEB381F0A

“You have to schedule well to be able to do everything,” explains Carmen Valentín, former political prisoner who has been out of prison for 10 years, since ex president Bill Clinton commuted her sentence in 1999.

Carmen’s days are calculated in order to be able to do her routine of work and exercise. By day, she works as a teacher at the Colegio Universitario de San Juan, where she has worked for the past 9 years. She started at this educational institution one year after leaving prison. “I’m doing what I always did best— working with youth.” At this center, she teaches English to students deficient in this area. She explains that the majority of the students at this college come to the institution with great academic gaps, especially in the areas of English, math, science and Spanish. “We try to help them so that they can graduate from the university. They come mostly from the public schools of Puerto Rico, which unfortunately I don’t think are the best. I really like my work as an educator, and would like to work here forever.”

When she leaves work in the afternoon, she does her daily exercise routine, which consists of walking and running with a circle of friends around the Condado Lagoon. When she exercises, she meditates, and feels very happy. “Sometimes when I exercise, I get that exercise high. I am also very careful about what I eat: vegetables, fruits, and I drink a lot of water, which gives great results. I never get sick. In prison I read and exercised all the time. When I came out of prison, the rhythm of my life changed, and I stopped exercising for a while. But later I was able to return to my routine.”

After exercising, she bathes and gets ready for her second job. In addition to her full time teaching job, she also works part time at night at a pharmacy. She has kept this job because this pharmacy opened its doors to her immediately following her release, and she’s developed  great fraternal relations with the owners.

Her decision to come to Puerto Rico after her release was above all about family and love for her homeland. She wanted to be with her granddaughter Karina, who at the time was a little 8 year old girl, and who is now a young woman who just started college… and of whom her grandmother is very proud. She also wanted to be with her mother, who had Alzheimers, and who died in 2004. “I felt like I had work to do here, caring for my mother and granddaughter. Additionally, I always wanted to come back to live here. I never wanted to live in the United States, which I never liked anything about— not the climate, not the food, not the atmosphere. The only reason I stayed there was my involvement with the struggle for the independence of Puerto Rico.”

Carmen’s only son Antonio and the rest of her grandchildren live in Chicago, where she frequently goes to visit them, and she always spends her summer and Christmas vacations with them.

But now that her mother has died and her granddaughter, who lived with her, has left to study in the United States, she sometimes feels a little lonely. Carmen always remembers what former political prisoner Rafael Cancel Miranda once told her: “Good people are never alone.” But she admits that now that she has more free time, she uses it for herself and to organize more activities for the political prisoners.

When Carmen was a child in the ‘50’s, her parents migrated to Chicago, but at the time she didn’t understand the reasons for the move to that city. “As a child I always resented the move. Later, I realized that the reason for that massive migration was the necessity to improve the situation, and naturally I forgave them because I realized we were part of that.”

Carmen received a bachelor’s degree in education with a major in Spanish from Northeastern University in Chicago, and a masters in counseling from Roosevelt University, also in Chicago.

She was a teacher, counselor, and assistant administrator at Roberto Clemente High School, which at the time was called Tuley High School.

“For me, being in the administration of something is being responsible for what is offered to the public, in this case, to students. Thus, it occurred to me to make many changes, because there were so many things that didn’t reflect the needs of the students of that school.

We (a committee of parents and students) made drastic and revolutionary changes. For example, we changed the name of the school from Tuley to Roberto Clemente because the majority of the students were Puerto Rican. We wanted the students to feel identified and integrated into the system. We also wanted Puerto Rican history to be taught, but in the eyes of the administration, we were asking for too much, and the board of education was never very disposed to accept recommendations. At the same time, I was becoming involved in the Puerto Rican Socialist Party (PSP) which was organizing in Chicago, and they introduced me to the colonial question and the politics of Puerto Rico. There was a lot of militancy, especially in education. After that, I was a college student counselor at Central University in Chicago.”

Carmen feels hopeful about the self-determination of the Puerto Rican people and our political future. She says that lately the patriotic fervor that people have felt fills her with hope.

“There will never be statehood here. Now I feel it, I see it, and I’m living it. This coming year, the situation will be good because there are so many disastrous policies, like firing thousands of people and the sinister plans this administration has for the Ecological Corridor. They’re trying to destabilize and destroy everything, and Puerto Rico will rise up,” emphasized Valentín.

Carmen Valentín: “El momento histórico que viví me presentó esta opción de lucha, yo la acepté”

Por Vanesa Baerga

22 diciembre 2009

http://claridadpuertorico.com/content.html?news=BD365872304856266FB12E2FEB381F0A

“Hay que cuadrar el tiempo bien para poder hacer todo,” explica Carmen Valentín, ex prisionera política quien lleva 10 años en libertad desde la conmutación de su sentencia por parte del ex presidente Bill Clinton en 1999.

Los días de Carmen están calculados para así poder cumplir con su rutina de trabajo y de ejercicios. Por el día, trabaja como educadora en el Colegio Universitario de San Juan, donde trabaja desde hace 9 años. Se integró a esta institución educativa al año de salir de prisión. “Yo estoy haciendo lo que siempre hice mejor, trabajar con jóvenes.” En este centro imparte tutorías de inglés a estudiantes con lagunas académicas en esta materia. Explica que la mayor parte de los estudiantes de este centro universitario llega a la institución con grandes lagunas académicas especialmente en las materias de inglés, matemáticas, ciencias y español. “Nosotros tratamos de ayudarlos para que se puedan graduar de la universidad. Ellos vienen mayormente de escuelas públicas de Puerto Rico, que lamentablemente no creo sean las mejores. A mí me gusta mucho mi trabajo como educadora, y quisiera trabajar aquí eternamente.”

Cuando sale de trabajar por las tardes hace una rutina diaria de ejercicios que consiste en caminar y correr con un círculo de amigos alrededor de la Laguna del Condado. Cuando hace ejercicio medita y se siente muy feliz. “A veces, cuando me ejercito me elevo. También estoy muy pendiente de lo que como; vegetales, frutas, bebo mucha agua y eso tiene buenos resultados. Nunca me enfermo. En la cárcel leía y hacía ejercicio todo el tiempo. Cuando salí, mi ritmo de vida cambió y dejé de hacer ejercicio por un tiempo. Pero ya después he podido volver a hacer mi rutina.”

Luego de su rutina de ejercicios, se baña y se prepara para su segundo trabajo. Además de su trabajo principal como orientadora, también trabaja a tiempo parcial en las noches en una farmacia. Ha mantenido este trabajo porque fue en esta farmacia donde le abrieron las puertas inmediatamente de su liberación y con quienes ha desarrollado una gran relación fraternal.

Su decisión de venir a Puerto Rico luego de su liberación fue sobre todo familiar y de amor patrio. Quería estar junto a su nieta, Karina, quien en ese momento era una niña de 8 años y ya ahora es una jovencita que acaba de empezar en la universidad y de la cual su abuela está muy orgullosa. También quería estar junto su mamá, quien tenía Alzheimer y murió en 2004. “Sentía que tenía una labor aquí de cuidar de mi mamá y de mi nieta. Además, siempre quise volver a vivir aquí. Nunca quise vivir en Estados Unidos, nunca me gustó nada, ni el clima, ni la comida, ni el ambiente. La única razón que me quedé allí fue que me involucré en la lucha por la independencia de Puerto Rico.”

El único hijo de Carmen, Antonio, y sus demás nietos, viven en Chicago, donde ella los visita con frecuencia y siempre pasa sus vacaciones de verano y de navidades junto a ellos.

Pero ahora que su madre murió y que su nieta, con quien vivía, se fue a estudiar a Estados Unidos, a veces se siente un poco sola. Carmen siempre recuerda una frase que el también ex prisionero político, Rafael Cancel Miranda, le dijo alguna vez: “Las personas buenas nunca están solas.” Pero admite que ahora que tiene más tiempo libre, lo usa para dedicárselo a ella misma y para organizar más actividades para los presos políticos.

Cuando Carmen era niña, en los años 50, sus padres emigraron a Chicago, pero en ese momento ella no comprendía el por qué de su traslado a esa ciudad. “Cuando niña, siempre tuve resentimiento por esa mudanza. Más tarde, me di cuenta del por qué de esa emigración masiva que hubo por necesidad de mejorar la situación y naturalmente los perdoné porque me di cuenta que fuimos parte de eso.”

Carmen hizo un bachillerato en educación con concentración en español de la Northeastern University en Chicago, y una maestría en orientación de la Roosevelt University también en Chicago. Fue maestra, orientadora y asistente administrativa en la Roberto Clemente High School, que en ese momento se llamaba Tuley High School.

“Para mí estar en la administración de algo es ser responsable de lo que se ofrece al público, en este caso estudiantes. Por lo tanto, se me ocurrió hacer muchos cambios porque había tantas cosas que no reflejaban las necesidades de los estudiantes de esta escuela. Hicimos (un comité de padres y estudiantes) cambios drásticos y revolucionarios, como por ejemplo, le cambiamos el nombre a la escuela de Tuley a Roberto Clemente porque la mayoría de sus estudiantes eran puertorriqueños. Queríamos que los estudiantes se sintieran identificados e integrados al sistema. También queríamos que se enseñara historia de Puerto Rico, pero para la administración estábamos exigiendo demasiado y la junta de educación nunca ha sido muy favorable para aceptar recomendaciones. Al mismo tiempo, me estaba involucrando con el Partido Socialista Puertorriqueño (PSP) que se estaba organizando en Chicago y ellos me introdujeron al asunto colonial y a la política de Puerto Rico. Había mucha militancia, especialmente en la educación. Luego de esto, fui orientadora de estudiantes universitarios en la Central University en Chicago.”

Carmen se siente esperanzada acerca de la autodeterminación del pueblo puertorriqueño y su futuro político. Dice que últimamente el fervor patriótico que ha sentido por parte del pueblo la llena de esperanza.

“Aquí nunca jamás habrá estadidad. Ahora lo siento, lo veo y lo estoy viviendo. Este año que viene la situación va a estar buena porque se están dando unas políticas tan desastrosas, como las miles de personas cesanteadas y los planes siniestros que tiene este gobierno para el Corredor Ecológico. Están tratando de desestabilizar y destruir todo, y Puerto Rico se va a levantar,” puntualiza Valentín.

Birthday of our Patriot, Oscar López Rivera, January 6, 2010
Special letter from the former Puerto Rican political prisoners calling for unity and for the release of the remaining political prisoners! Go to BoricuaHumanRights.org on January 6th to read the official document.

Bring Them Home Now! January 30, 2010 at 6PM
A local call to advance the campaign to free the Puerto Rican Political Prisoners! Former Puerto Rican political prisoner Ricardo Jiménez invites you for an evening of brainstorming and possibilities.
NBHRN Resource Center
2636 W. Division 1st floor rear

Buy Original Work from Political Prisoner Oscar López Rivera, February 13th & 27th, 2010 at 6PM
Gallery Opening of Oscar’s Work. Sale of art is a fundraiser for his granddaughter’s education. Poetry featuring Xavier Luis Burgos w/ open mic, followed by jam session w/ Reyes, Eric López and Peter Vale.
NBHRN Resource Center
2636 W. Division 1st floor rear

30 Days for 30 Years, March 4th-April 3rd, 2010 at 6PM
To bring attention to the 30 years of incarceration of political prisoner Carlos Alberto Torres, NBHRN is organizing “30 days for 30 years”, a 30 day interactive art installation. We are inviting 30 people to stay 24 hours in a storefront prison cell for 30 days straight. This will be a national event with installations throughout the country and Puerto Rico. First prisoner goes in on March 4th.
Batey Urbano
2620 W. Division

30 Days for 30 Years, Closing Ceremony, April 3rd, 2010 at 5PM
Poetry, music and reflection on the 30 years of Patriot Carlos Alberto Torres’ incarceration. Special guests, former Puerto Rican political prisoners. Report on the status of Carlos’ case. Updates on the current campaign.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Media Advisory—for immediate release December 16, 2009

Eco-prisoner Jeff “Free” Luers released from prison

PORTLAND – Dec 16th , 2009 – Jeff “Free” Luers, political prisoner and environmental activist, was released from the Columbia River Correctional Institution this morning after serving nine and half years. Luers was originally sentenced in 2001 to twenty two years and eight months for the politically motivated arson of three SUV’s at a car dealership in Eugene, OR. This sentence was deemed grossly disproportionate to the damage sustained by the car dealership and was condemned by legal professionals, human rights groups and activists worldwide. At an appeal hearing in 2007 it was ruled that Luers’ original sentence was illegal, and was consequently reduced to ten years.

Luers’ release today comes after what Oregon Department of Corrections described as a ‘mistake’ when they released him early on October 20th this year. After a few short hours of freedom, Luers was taken back into custody in Eugene after the State agency reversed its decision and determined that he did not qualify under the new House Bill 3508 for an additional 10% reduction in sentence. DOC’s gross incompetence in this situation, and the emotional toll borne by his family and loved ones, is just one of many examples of the distressing levels of bureaucratic impropriety that Luers has endured during his years behind bars.

Upon his release this morning, Mr. Luers stated:

“ The last 9½ years have been difficult at best. I have witnessed things in prison that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. I have endured hardship and loss. Without a doubt, this experience has changed me. What hasn’t changed is my commitment to environmental and social justice.”

“ I would like to thank all the people who have supported me through the years; especially the dedicated few who worked tirelessly to get me out of prison. I look forward to spending time with my loved ones and continuing my education, as well as continuing my activism.”

During his time in prison, seven of which were served in maximum security, Luers has maintained his activism by writing about environmental and social justice issues. In particular, he has continued to bring attention to the specter of human induced climate change, the cause that motivated Luers to set fire to three SUV’s in 2000. Since his original sentencing, awareness of climate change has become omnipresent. It seems ironic that Luers has been released during the Copenhagen Climate Summit where world leaders are converging around the need for extreme action to be taken on global carbon emissions.

http://www.freejeffluers.org

Contact: Lauren Regan, Attorney with Civil Liberties Defense Center, for comment or to arrange interviews. 541-687- 9180; info@cldc.org.

General Background

In June 2001, 23 year-old forest defense activist Jeffrey “Free” Luers was sentenced to 22 years and 8 months in prison for the burning of three Sport Utility Vehicles (SUV’s) in Eugene, Oregon. In an attempt to make a statement about global warming, Jeff and his codefendent, Craig ‘Critter’ Marshall, set fire to 3 SUV’s at a Eugene car dealership causing minor property damage. Their stated purpose was to raise awareness about global warming and the role that SUV’s play in that process. No one was hurt in this action nor was that the intent. An arson specialist at trial confirmed that the action did not pose any threat to people based on its size and distance from any fuel source. Despite the fact that this action hurt no one, caused only $40,000 in damages and the cars were later resold, Jeff was sent to prison for a sentence considerably longer than those convicted of murder, kidnapping and rape in Oregon and around the country. Amnesty International declared Luers a political prisoner based upon the egregious disparity in his sentence.

Jeff’s appeal was filed in January 2002 and oral arguments before the Oregon Court of Appeals were heard on November 30, 2005. Over a year later, on February 14, 2007 the Court of Appeals unanimously ruled that Jeff’s case should be reversed and remanded back to the Circuit Court for resentencing. A year after their decision, a resentencing hearing finally took place on February 28, 2008 in Lane County Circuit Court which reduced Jeff’s sentence to 10 years. On October 1, 2009, the Court signed a supplemental judgment granting Jeff an additional 10% reduction in his total incarceration time, and he was released the next day. Six hours later the prison outrageously took him back into custody due to a “mistake”.