Mellon’s $125 million ‘Imagining Freedom’ ignores incarcerated artists

A closer look at philanthropy’s role in mass incarceration

by Donald ‘C-Note’ Hooker

In a bold move, the Mellon Foundation recently announced its $125 million “Imagining Freedom” initiative, aiming to uplift the voices of those impacted by the U.S. criminal justice system through arts and humanities. While the initiative’s ambition is commendable, a glaring omission casts a shadow over its noble intentions. Right here in the Bay Area, two organizations with decades-long dedication to incarcerated artists – the San Francisco Bay View and California Prison Focus – remain conspicuously absent from the list of beneficiaries. Even more perplexing, renowned incarcerated artists like Donald “C-Note” Hooker and Kevin “Rashid” Johnson have yet to see a penny of this funding that’s supposedly earmarked for their community.

This stark disconnect raises critical questions about the priorities of large philanthropic institutions and their commitment to addressing the root causes of mass incarceration. Is “Imagining Freedom” merely a well-intentioned gesture, or is it actively perpetuating the systemic inequalities it claims to combat? As we delve deeper into the realities of mass incarceration and the philanthropic landscape, the answers become increasingly clear.

Section 1: Mass incarceration: A crisis of epic proportions

The United States has the dubious distinction of having the highest incarceration rate in the world. A staggering 1 in 81 Black adults is currently behind bars, a chilling testament to the systemic racial bias that plagues our criminal justice system. The Sentencing Project’s report, “The Color of Justice: Racial and Ethnic Disparity in State Prisons,” reveals a grim reality, where Black Americans are imprisoned at a rate nearly five times that of white Americans.

This isn’t just a modern phenomenon; it’s a legacy of centuries of injustice, stretching back to the days of convict leasing, a system that effectively re-enslaved Black individuals after the Civil War. The 13th Amendment’s slavery exception clause, permitting involuntary servitude as punishment for a crime, further entrenched this exploitation.

The consequences of mass incarceration are devastating. Families are torn apart, communities are destabilized, and generations of Black Americans are trapped in a cycle of poverty and disenfranchisement. It is a crisis of epic proportions, one that demands urgent attention and radical reform.

Section 2: The Bay View and California Prison Focus, battling mass incarceration at the grassroots

For over four decades, the San Francisco Bay View and California Prison Focus (CPF) have been unwavering champions for the incarcerated, their voices echoing through the concrete walls and iron bars that confine so many. The Bay View, a historic Black newspaper, has provided a platform for incarcerated writers to share their stories, struggles and hopes, while CPF has tirelessly exposed human rights abuses and advocated for systemic change.

These organizations are more than just news outlets or advocacy groups; they are lifelines for those trapped within the carceral system. They provide a sense of community, a platform for self-expression, and a beacon of hope in a world often devoid of both. They have amassed a treasure trove of prisoner-created content, including letters, artwork and personal narratives that paint a vivid picture of life behind bars.

Despite their vital contributions, both organizations operate on shoestring budgets, constantly battling funding limitations and staffing shortages. Their longevity and impact are a testament to their unwavering commitment and the dedication of their staff and volunteers. Yet, in the face of Mellon’s multi-million dollar initiative, their continued struggle for resources raises uncomfortable questions about who really benefits from philanthropic largesse.

Section 3: Mellon’s ‘Imagining Freedom’: A missed opportunity in the fight against mass incarceration

The Mellon Foundation’s “Imagining Freedom” initiative, with its $125 million commitment, aims to harness the power of art and humanities to confront the injustices of the criminal justice system. It seeks to uplift the voices of those directly impacted by incarceration, fostering a deeper understanding of the system’s flaws and inspiring change.

While the initiative’s ambition is laudable, its execution raises concerns. Why have established incarcerated artists like Donald “C-Note” Hooker and Kevin “Rashid” Johnson, whose work has long challenged the narrative of mass incarceration, been excluded from this funding? Why have organizations like the Bay View and CPF, with their deep roots in the prison community and extensive archives of prisoner-created content, been overlooked?

This disconnect between Mellon’s stated goals and the reality on the ground is particularly jarring in the context of the Bay Area, a region known for its progressive activism and proximity to Silicon Valley’s wealth. It begs the question: Is “Imagining Freedom” truly about empowering those most affected by the system, or is it simply another example of philanthropy’s blind spots and systemic biases?

The potential impact of art and humanities in the fight against mass incarceration cannot be overstated. Art can humanize the incarcerated, challenge stereotypes, and spark conversations that lead to meaningful change. By overlooking those who are already creating and sharing their art from within the prison walls, Mellon’s initiative risks missing a crucial opportunity to amplify the voices that matter most.

Section 4: The philanthropic disconnect: Big money, little impact?

The philanthropic landscape in the United States is a complex one, with billions of dollars flowing through foundations and charitable organizations each year. Yet, the distribution of these funds often reflects deeply entrenched systemic inequalities. A stark example is the geographic disparity in criminal justice reform funding.

Despite states like Mississippi, Louisiana and Arkansas having the highest incarceration rates in the country, they receive a negligible fraction of philanthropic support. Meanwhile, New York and California, with far lower incarceration rates, absorb a staggering 50% of the funding. This disparity speaks volumes about the priorities of major foundations and their disconnect from the communities most impacted by mass incarceration.

Even within California, where the Bay Area is considered a hotbed of progressive activism, grassroots organizations like the San Francisco Bay View and California Prison Focus are left to scrape by on shoestring budgets. The Ford Foundation, with its $13.9 billion endowment, and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, boasting $12.8 billion in assets, seem to have little interest in supporting these organizations, despite their decades-long commitment to social justice and their intimate understanding of the human cost of mass incarceration.

The influx of “tech philanthropists,” often driven by a venture capital mindset that prioritizes quick returns, has further exacerbated this problem. Their impatience with the slow, arduous work of systemic change leaves grassroots organizations struggling to sustain their efforts.

This disconnect between big philanthropy and the realities on the ground raises serious questions about the efficacy of current funding models. Are these institutions truly committed to dismantling the system of mass incarceration, or are they simply content with funding high-profile initiatives that generate positive PR? The continued neglect of organizations like the Bay View and CPF suggests the latter.

Section 5: Art as a weapon against mass incarceration

Art possesses a unique power to transcend barriers, challenge perceptions, and ignite change. For those trapped within the confines of the prison system, it becomes a lifeline, a means of self-expression, connection, and resistance. Art allows incarcerated individuals to reclaim their humanity, tell their stories, and expose the harsh realities of life behind bars.

Organizations like the San Francisco Bay View and California Prison Focus have long recognized this transformative power. They have tirelessly championed the creative works of incarcerated artists, providing them with a platform to share their experiences and perspectives with the world. From powerful paintings and sculptures to poignant poetry and prose, this art serves as a stark reminder of the human cost of mass incarceration.

The Mellon Foundation’s “Imagining Freedom” initiative, while commendable in its intent, seems to have missed this crucial point. By overlooking the voices of those currently incarcerated and the organizations that support them, it risks perpetuating the very system it aims to dismantle. True freedom of expression cannot be achieved by excluding those who are most intimately familiar with the injustices of the criminal justice system.

Art has the power to break down walls, both literal and metaphorical. It can bridge the gap between the incarcerated and the free, fostering empathy and understanding. By investing in the artistic endeavors of those behind bars, we invest in their humanity, their potential, and their right to be heard.

Q&A with C-Note

Q: As an incarcerated artist, how do you feel about the Mellon Foundation’s “Imagining Freedom” initiative?

C-Note: I have mixed emotions. I know somebody behind the wall will see some of this money, but the people I know probably won’t, because of the cliquish nature of the philanthropic community. Whenever I seem to bring up the cliquish nature of the philanthropic community, I am basically told everything is cliquish. So to me, it’s like basically telling me, “Shut up and know your place.”

Q: What impact has art had on your experience in prison?

C-Note: It’s an outlet for expression. It’s an opportunity for me to give voice to the voiceless. It’s an opportunity to rally the troops in here behind causes. But the advocacy work outside of my own personal drive is disheartening, and understandably so. Whenever I ask others to contribute to the “prisoner’s voice,” be it poetry, essay or artwork, I am often met with “Why should I?” These guys are in essence saying, “Why should I use my intellectual property, use my paper, use my pen, use my resources, use my time, for somebody that’s out there on the streets who’s going to profit off of that?” They’re not feeling it.

So for me, what Mellon and its Imagining Freedom initiative with its public pronouncement of actually putting funds in the hands of the currently incarcerated is encouraging, but not seeing it executed, nor seeing a reasonable and rational way that it plans to execute that public pronouncement, makes one’s blood boil.

Q: What are your hopes for the future of art as a tool for change within the prison system?

C-Note: We live in a different age. It’s one thing, like back in the day where this felt like a labor of love by these outside groups coming inside these prisons with these art programs. But nowadays, it feels like profit. We’re now a part of the Rehabilitation Industrial Complex. We’re just a number, we’re just a hamburger to flip, we’re just an assembly line, that’s how it feels now.

I have raised or inspired millions in reentry, money for the reparations to women prisoners in California who were forcibly sterilized. Saved lives through the grassroots who used my art to advocate for prison evacuations in the wake of Hurricanes Dorian and Ida. Work featured in the fashion line Mercy, murals, billboards, book covers, print and digital publications, yet I am dead broke.

It is because of these philanthropic pronouncements, especially after George Floyd, whereby they’re saying we’re getting involved in racial justice issues or criminal justice issues, that gives us behind the wall hope. But to add insult to injury, I know that I am one of the most out there artist behind the wall and I ain’t seen s***.

You got all these new people that’s coming into these spaces and they’re the ones who are getting all the money. Yet, the San Francisco Bay View and the California Prison Focus, who have been in this game when it was not sexy, when it was not popular, they don’t see a nickel either, and so this is not fun.

Then there is someone of means out there in society getting the pat on their back about being a good citizen, doing good philanthropic work, and the money does go to people, the same people, as a matter of fact, and it’s not cool, and it’s about time somebody calls them out on this s***.

Q: What message would you like to send to the Mellon Foundation and other large philanthropic institutions?

C-Note: My reputation speaks for itself, I don’t need no introduction, but apparently we haven’t been playing for the same team. In 2017, I got a group of prisoners together to write the play “Fathers and Sons” (A play written by prisoners). It consists of 10 acts by nine different prisoner playwrights and is billed as “A once-in-a-generation work of art that gives voice to the boy in every man and to the man who needs to be heard by every boy.”

I work with organizations like Art for Redemption and the Prison Journalism Project, who are adamant that now is the time to compensate the prisoner for their voice. I would tell the Mellon Foundation that Imagining Freedom grantees, such as Professor Fleetwood and Samora Pinderhughes, have pictures of them holding my artwork. What would it look like if you put a million or 2M on my books? What kind of reverberations that would have behind the wall, as far as creative motivation, which leads to better prepared returning citizens.

As far as Yale University, John Hopkins University, and the National Endowment for the Humanities, with their “Preserving Their Stories: Archiving Mass Incarceration” projects, the San Francisco Bay View and California Prison Focus have huge archives of prison letters, essays and artwork. California Prison Focus no longer has a website; that’s how bad they’re doing financially. Please, please, take your large endowments and look out for these day one organizations. Thank you.

Conclusion

The Mellon Foundation’s “Imagining Freedom” initiative, while well-intentioned, serves as a stark reminder of the disconnect between big philanthropy and the grassroots organizations and individuals fighting for justice on the front lines. The exclusion of established incarcerated artists and organizations like the San Francisco Bay View and California Prison Focus highlights a troubling pattern of systemic inequality within the philanthropic sector.

As C-Note’s poignant words remind us, the voices of those directly impacted by the criminal justice system must be heard and amplified. True reform cannot be achieved without their active participation and leadership.

We urge the Mellon Foundation and other large philanthropic institutions to reconsider their funding priorities and invest in the grassroots organizations and incarcerated artists who are tirelessly working to dismantle the system of mass incarceration. It’s time for philanthropy to move beyond performative gestures and embrace a truly transformative approach to social justice.

The fight against mass incarceration is a long and arduous one, but it’s a fight we cannot afford to lose. The San Francisco Bay View and California Prison Focus, along with countless other organizations and individuals, are leading the charge. It’s time for philanthropy to step up and support them, not just with words, but with the resources they need to create lasting change.

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Source: https://sfbayview.com/2024/09/mellons-125-million-imagining-freedom-ignores-incarcerated-artists/