Speech for May Day 2000
by benjamin evans
Fellow Workers,
This is the first May Day of the new millennium and it's wonderful to be here
in Chicago reclaiming the radical tradition of Lucy Parsons and the Haymarket
Martyrs. We are standing in solidarity with our fellow workers around the
world against a system that tries to turn us against each other. We are standing in
solidarity with the women in Saipan, sewing clothes in sweatshops for retail
stores like the Gap, Old Navy and Banana Republic. We are standing in
solidarity with the women in Haiti, sewing clothes in sweatshops for Disney
Quest to sell for top dollar. We are standing in solidarity with immigrant
workers here in Chicago who are threatened with deportation by sweatshop
owners who want to exploit their labor. We are standing in solidarity with women all
over the world who are leading a global struggle against sweatshop working
conditions; against low pay, long hours, abusive treatment, denial of the
right to organize, and dangerous working conditions. We are here to take action
against these global crimes.
On the 25th anniversary of the Vietnamese people's historic victory, we stand
in solidarity with people all over the world who continue to struggle against
U.S. imperialism. We stand in solidarity with our sisters and brothers from
Mexico who are criminalized and labeled "illegal" for crossing a border a
border created in 1848 when the United States illegally seized half of the
Mexican nation. While multinational corporations cross borders with ease,
human beings who cross borders come under attack. This must end. We demand
unconditional amnesty for all immigrants.
We stand in solidarity with the people of Puerto Rico who are struggling to
end over one hundred years of U.S. colonialism. This morning 1,000 U.S. Marines
arrived off the coast of Puerto Rico to aid the F.B.I. and the Federal
Marshalls in removing the non-violent demonstrators from the beaches of
Vieques. Puerto Ricans have been occupying the beaches in defiance of the
United States since April 19th, 1999, when David Sanes Rodriguez was killed by
bombs dropped from a U.S. Marine Corp jet. We are here today to send a message
to the U.S. government that the bombing of the Puerto Rican island of Vieques
must stop.
And we stand in solidarity with the Filipino people and the people of Columbia
who are demanding an end to the U.S. military's presence in their
countries. We stand in solidarity with these struggles because those who are the most
oppressed must lead the fight against oppression and those who have been the
victims of U.S. imperialism must lead the struggle to defeat it.
It is an honor to be here speaking to you today, representing my comrades in
Prairie Fire Organizing Committee. We all should be proud to be here in
Chicago on May Day. And we know that for everyone one of us who is here, there are
many people who would be here if they could; who would be here if they weren't
caring for those who are sick or injured, if they weren't caring for young
children, or if they had the luxury of being able to call in sick to work, or
to take the day off.
And we can't forget those who would be here if they weren't locked down in
prison. There are over two million people in U.S. prisons. That's more people
than were in prison in South Africa under Apartheid or in the Soviet Union.
And we especially need to remember the over one hundred dedicated revolutionaries
in prison for their political beliefs; people like Leonard Peltier, the
American Indian Movement activist locked up in Leavenworth, Kansas, and Albert
Woodfox, the Black Panther Party activist locked up in Angola, Louisiana, and
Marilyn Buck, the revolutionary anti-imperialist locked up in Dublin,
California, and Oscar Lopez Rivera, the Puerto Rican independentista locked up
in Terre Haute, Indiana. And we need to especially remember Zolo Agona Azania,
a New Afrikan political prisoner on death row in Indiana, and, of course, our
dear comrade Mumia Abu-Jamal, a former Black Panther on death row in
Pennsylvania.
There is a quote from Bertolt Brecht painted on the side of the old Puerto
Rican Cultural Center up on Claremont Avenue. It reads, "Those who struggle
for a day are important. Those who struggle for years are even more important.
Those who struggle for a lifetime are indispensable." In conclusion, I would
like to take a minute to remember one such indispensable revolutionary who was
buried this morning in a traditional Islamic ceremony in New York. He was a
former Black Panther, a member of the Black Liberation Army and a devout
Muslim. In 1973 he was framed for the murder of a New York policeman as
part of the F.B.I.'s war on the Black liberation movement. During my entire
lifetime he has been imprisoned for the crime of daring to fight for the rights of Afrikan
people in America. Albert Nuh Washington died on April 28th at 5:31am, after a
courageous five-month battle with liver cancer.
In addition to his revolutionary activism, Nuh was a poet. There is one of his
poems which seems especially appropriate to recite here in Chicago on this
rainy May Day:
Clouds hide the sun
Still the sun shines
Rain falls on the just and unjust
Without thought
Death is a natural process
Why fear it
Life is to be lived
So deny yourself not
For the clouds only temporarily hide the sun
And the sun would not put out its light
For a few clouds
Only a man denies himself life
Out of the fear of death
If he but knew
Not to live, out of fear
Is to be dead and not know it
A very useless life
Free All Political Prisoners!
Unconditional Amnesty for All Immigrants!
No Human Being is Illegal!
End Sweatshop Labor!
U.S. out of Vieques!
U.S. out of the Philippines!
U.S. out of Colombia!
Stop Police Brutality!
The Struggle Continues!
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