The issue with deriving the majority of knowledge I deem of worth from Tumblr is the all too often reactionary invalidation coupled with my intake. While I acknowledge that all my development via moral, academic, and raison d'être channels can be invariable traced back to some post or another, and that the only thing of value I've wrested from a college education thus far was a voracious appetite for establishing my own systems of academic credibility, my gut reaction is still pull apart the Internet and trust in the book. I'm getting better, but until I can fully shake off the refuse of a previous generation's standards of evaluation, works like these that put those posts down on paper are a gift.Assata Shakur is alive. It doesn't take much time to say, but the context of connection between the revolutionary days before my time and my now of tanks in Ferguson and parallels between the Berlin Wall and the Palestine-Israel barriers is invaluable. Not only is she living proof of how far the United States needs to go before I'll even begin to contemplate an inkling of "trust", here in this autobiography she is candid, she is funny, she is intelligent and brave and strong beyond belief. While I read The Autobiography of Malcolm X, there is a difference between reading the words of a dead man and those of a living woman both on socially constructed and biologically factual constructed grounds. Simply put, as a woman, I found more to relate to, and connections such as these in any intersectional social justice context are worth the world.The most obvious examples of this are biological. Assata Shakur saved herself from a gang rape by affluent boys at the age of thirteen by threatening to tear apart the main perpetrator's house and get him in trouble with his parents. She also became pregnant and gave birth while incarcerated during her many trials, and wrote about the experience with such beautiful insight into both the reality of her situation and the strength of her hope for the future that I recommend it to all. Her being a black woman also worked in more implicit ways by deconstructing the cult of masculinity often coupled to civil rights movements. Everywhere in her autobiography is emphasis on solidarity, love, and commitment to any and all in the mutual struggle, something every sociopolitical tract concerning human rights could learn from.In addition to detailing her life and development of social consciousness, Shakur gives some very important points of advice on how to engage in social justice measures. My first favorite of these was her statement that revolutionaries need to constantly engage with the people, as those on the sidelines who are not informed by the revolutionaries will always be indoctrinated by the white-washing school and the fear-mongering state. Seeing as how I keep track of events in Ferguson via Twitter and Tumblr due to the distortions of media blackouts, I can attest to this in full. Another favorite was her decrying of social justice people "fixing" things for others, when the right way of supporting those in different situations is to be receptive to their ideas, have faith in their abilities, and offer aid only when asked. Patriarchal methods of teacher and student will not tear down the patriarchy so long as the teacher is always the teacher and the student is always the student.I did find it odd that, after all this great material, that Shakur went back and emphasized how the revolutionary struggle must be scientific in order to avoid emotional compromise, in other words emphasizing the very "objectivity" preached by every tendril of the patriarchy. After some reflection, my thoughts are that this was a condemnation of the suicidal violence mentality she encountered during her time in the Black Panther Party. It's the only way that makes sense to me, as what I love about Shakur is her constant promotion of love, of communication, of a fundamental "emotional" grounding of sociopolitical thought that is the antithesis of the ever abusive and ever splintering patriarchy. If I ever get the chance to meet her, I'll have to ask her about it.This book is also chock-full of historical tidbits you'll never find in any classroom. Along with all the names and college movements I'll have to look into in the future, this was the first time I had ever heard of the Occupation of Alcatraz. Good stuff.
I read this book because I wanted to learn more about the Black Panther Party. I was also curious about Assata Shakur because she had just been named to the FBI's most wanted list.The book actually goes into little detail about the events leading up to Assata Shakur's arrest and her life after her escape from prison, probably to avoid implicating anyone. Instead, the book focuses on her young life, her time at Manhattan Community College leading up to her involvement with the Black Panters and her time in prison after her arrest for allegedly shooting a New Jersey State Trooper, told in alternating chapters. The book is a quick read. Assata's narrative voice is engaging and informative. Her account is less impartial than I expected - she provides some criticism of Black Panther policies and comments on the hypocrisy and contradictions inherent in the movement, especially as its leaders rose to power and acclaim. She is modest about her position as a revolutionary and honest about the seemingly normal upbringing and motives that drove her toward activism. The candor with which she discusses her life makes her fate all the more striking. By discussing her family and her seemingly normal education and employment leading up to her involvement with the Black Panther Party, it makes it clear that many of the activists involved in this movement led otherwise normal lives, and makes it seem as if what happened to them as a result could have happened to anyone.I recommend this as an easy-to-read introduction to the Black Panther movement and the radical civil rights activism of the late '60's and early '70's. It's a side of this history that isn't often taught in schools, like the peaceful, nonviolent end of the civil rights movement. It provides interesting insight into the motivations of our government to track and supervise radical political activists, especially now, as the United States' commitment to surveillance is publicized. Assata's account of the conditions in which she was forced to live while incarcerated and, most striking, while pregnant, are an indictment of the prison system and a commentary on the racism that fuels it that is certainly still relevant today. Her brief discussion of Cuban society at the end is very interesting and much different than the talking points we often hear about Communist societies. Although her portrayal of Cuba as a virtually classless utopia without racism is perhaps an exaggeration, it made me curious to learn more about Cuban history and Cuban society at the time. It also made me wish she would write another book about her time in exile, because I suspect the beginning of her time in Cuba would make for an interesting read.I would have appreciated a little bit more of a legal analysis of what was going on, mostly because I wondered if, today, the government would have bothered to drum up false charges or if it would have just arrested and imprisoned Assata and her codefendants. I will probably keep reading a little more about the topic to get more in-depth information about the FBI's COINTELPRO and the legal justification for what they did during that time. I'm definitely glad I read this. It's opened me up to this movement and made me want to read more about this hidden part of US history.
What do You think about Assata: An Autobiography (1999)?
This book turned into a dnf for me. I wanted to love this book soooooo bad. I pushed myself as far as I could to read until the end however, I just couldn't. While I respect Assata and all that she did for the African-American race, I was unimpressed by her memoir.When it comes to memoirs or books based on individuals coming of age, I like to read these books to figure out what the protagonist or subject of the book learned from everything that happened to him/her. For the majority of Assata's story, there seemed to be a wall up between her and her audience. I found this to be especially true in terms of the chapters that Assata wrote about her childhood. In these chapters, I felt a strong urge to question the validity of certain events based on how Assata wrote them using such a blasé tone about different events like, how she frequently ran away from home and lived on her own for long periods of time as a child. Even though these events may have happened just as she wrote them, the tone in which she wrote each event forced me to take her verbal recaps with a grain of salt. Furthermore, I felt as if her misspelling of America and the word "I" were too forced. In each instance where she did this, it struck me as a contrived writing tick that may have been meant to mean something, but never really got fully explained to the reader forcing this habit to become just another thing for her audience to guess at. Looking at other people's interpretation of Assata's autobiography, I would speculate that the habit of misspelling America's name was meant to show disrespect or hatred for America however, I'm still unsure of the actual meaning behind this.Overall, I felt dissatisfied with this book. Assata's story came highly recommended from people gushing over it left and right yet, I felt as if Assata's delivery of her life's story lacked depth. I do not dispute that Assata has more than enough to be angry about in her life, but the manner in which she portrays her feelings in the book don't really show any growth from her first being arrested up to the point I read to (which was about 125 pages) where she's like 13 living on her own with a drag queen as a mentor. Nonetheless, I can attest to learning a good deal about the American justice system from her autobiography. I would recommend this book to someone who is an avid history buff, African-African Literature lover, or extremely fond of feminist narratives.
—Adira
Quickly moved from the middle to the top of my to-read list with the surprising and disturbing addition of her name to the FBI’s “Most-Wanted Terrorists” list earlier this month. The short version of her story is that she was a former Black Panther and BLA member, convicted of murdering a New Jersey state trooper under highly dubious circumstances. She was eventually broken out of prison and, later, fled to Cuba, where she was granted asylum and continues to live today. The long version is described here, powerfully and convincingly. Shakur alternates descriptions of her capture, imprisonment, and subsequent trials with the events of her childhood and early adulthood that spurred her to political action. In these more personal chapters, she documents her education and gradual awakening to her own power and to the systems at work around her - she’s a complex person and portrays herself as such. The opening statement for her assault and burglary charges (for which she was rightly acquitted) is one of the most passionate and well-argued pleas for justice I’ve read - she speaks to the injustices committed against her, but she places them in broad historical context, showing that her case is simply one glaring instance resulting from a larger and well-established system of oppression. Frankly, the more research one does on some of the historical events she describes in this statement alone, the more it becomes apparent that not only is what she describes accurate, but the injustices were often worse than she indicates (see the New York City draft riots). Worse still, reading it 40 years later, it becomes apparent how little has changed, and when it has, it's often changed for the worse. She published this book from Cuba in 1987. Her anger remains palpable, and it’s hard not to share that anger while reading her story. Yes, this is her version of events, so it’s necessarily going to be sympathetic; however, the inconsistent testimony of witnesses and the large amount of forensic evidence do seem to support her story, and her description of the cultural and historical context is accurate. Her inclusion on the FBI list, to me, is truly astonishing, especially with distorted versions of her case presented without context, and it seems clear that there are larger political motivations here. Whether or not you believe her guilty, the discussions her book invites - on race, wealth, the role of government agencies, the American education and prison systems, drug culture - are crucial. Each of these is among our most critical issues, yet they remain below the surface. How can this happen? Certainly, parts of the story are omitted, and it's hard to buy into the final chapter, an idyllic picture of Cuba where citizens are free and racism is non-existent. Questions remain on both sides. One wonders about her life since this book was published, and why she still remains a political target.
—Carrie
I've read this book 4 times and will probably read it a million more. Assata is my favorite non-fiction book hands down. The way it's written, I didn't realize I reading a true story of someone's life at first. It's such an easy read that you fly through it. The second, third, and fourth time I read it I was speechless every time. The portrayal of a woman's strength and integrity + our justice system at play spoke volumes as Assata details her life before fleeing to Cuba. This book is for everyone. I have never been so intrigued by someone's life that I'm willing to hear them tell the same story multiple times, Assata brought that out of me and I'll read this autobiography until I have it memorized.
—Taye Nicole
