Christopher Etienne was incarcerated as a young man. He later earned two undergraduate degrees from Rutgers and his master’s from Columbia.
“So like, we, we have this large rich section of history of accomplished black people, of pushing forth their own narratives and trying to change the situation that they were unfortunately born in, but I didn’t really see these stories. I had to go through the backdoor to find them and so, if I can start telling these stories if I can introduce people to this narrative, you know, through mass-media, then maybe these negative stereotypes that’s associated with us, could change.”
ANNOTATIONS
Learn More: “State of New Jersey: Senate, No. 2055, S2055 1R,” New Jersey State Legislature, February 26, 2018.
Learn More [2]: Colleen O’Dea, “NJ Close to Giving Prisoners Access to State Financial Aid for College Courses,” NJ Spotlight News, July 2, 2018.
Learn More [3]: Jiles Ship, “By Educating Inmates, Prisons Can Become a Safer Place for Everyone,” nj.com, July 23, 2018.
Transcript: “Schools are more segregated now than they were fifty years ago.”
Learn More: Adam Clark, “N.J. Schools among Most Segregated. This Suit Could Change That,” nj.com, May 17, 2018.
Learn More [2]: Rachel M. Cohen, “Inside New Jersey’s Legal Fight Over Its Segregated Schools,” Bloomberg.Com, January 3, 2019.
TRANSCRIPT
Interview conducted by Mira Abou Elezz
Newark, New Jersey
Interview conducted in 2018
Transcription by Kether Tomkins
Annotations by Brandon McKoy
This is Mira Abou Elezz. I’m speaking with–
Christopher Etienne.
I'm here in Newark, New Jersey in the Hahne’s Building downtown. I just moved here last year but I know that this building was revamped and we are sitting upstairs in a classroom. It’s my first time in here and so I'm going to have Chris kind of explain the scene that we are in, and also give us a little background on the programs offered here and what he is doing here.
Yes. So, um, we are currently in the classroom, um, station, in the Hahne’s Building um, out of Express Newark. This is what they call this, um, this, um, this community. It's called the Express Newark community and of course, it is an affiliation with um, Rutgers University, so um, amid the– amid the um, I don’t know what you call these boards anymore [laughs], white boards and the desk and the podium, you see Rutgers tatted on, um, like, a lot of the furniture here. The aesthetic of this community reflects that of the Rutgers brand. But the purpose of this space was to, one– encourage, um, residents of the Newark community to learn a little bit more about media. So whether it be photography, whether it be illustrated design, whether it be videography, um, or um, just acting and playwriting, it encourages people who have an interest in these fields to just come out and interact with, um, professionals in this community. So that is the number one goal of it. The second goal was to also bring forth, um, I guess, industry experts, so individuals who have a background in, let’s say, um, illustration design, or background in videography, and give them a chance to be part of a community where they could acquire resources. Whether that be the editing suites or the photography studio or even equipment, that will enable them to tell stories about, um, people who come from communities such as these, without having to encounter any prejudice or any limitations for telling these types of specific stories.
That's great. That's really relevant to what we are doing right now. So what are you specifically doing for this?
Um, me, I– um, I'm not sure how far I should start back. But okay, basically, um, I earned my undergrad in Rutgers. I double majored in Journalism and Africana Studies because my goal post, um, post-undergrad was to basically tell stories of people who came from communities similar to mine. To give you a little bit of background, um, I am first-generation Haitian– meaning that both my parents were uh, migrants from Haiti. We came from very humble beginnings, you know, so like, even though, like, I guess like, nationally, nation-wide the poverty rate is supposed to be around like thirty-thousand, give or take, if you are living in the south versus the north, it’s supposed to be around thirty-thousand. Well, for a lot of Haitian immigrants, that poverty rate was half of that. So we were lucky if our moms was bringing home like ten or fifteen-thousand a year and you’re talking about working non-stop shifts, you know, like you’re talking about her maybe spending three hours at home.
And this was something that I had seen reflected in a lot of the inner cities I was part of, so like, a lot of minority-majority communities, individuals had to deal with these same situations– they were working twelve-hour shifts, sixteen-hour shifts, eighteen-hour shifts and barely bringing twenty-thousand dollars home. You know, like that was considered middle class in the community to be honest, but when I turned on the news and I saw, um, I saw how people of color were depicted, it was always black women were welfare queens, you know, and black men were gangsters or just so criminally prone that they couldn't even stay home and help build a family. Well, I had a mother and a father, like, um, my mother wasn’t– my mother did benefit from welfare, but she was by no means just laying around the house counting food stamps. It was food stamps, before EBT cards. I come from a older generation, we had colorful paper to purchase things with, right?
How old are you if you don't mind my asking?
I’m thirty three. And so I've witness the same thing happen from you know, my mother's generation to mine. My sister was working, um, was working two jobs and she was barely making twenty-two, twenty-three thousand a year, and when she got a raise to twenty-four thousand and she's raising two child as well, you know, they’re like, well, you're making too much to be on government assistance, so you have to give up a job or give up your assistance, and I don't know what kinda world a lot of people live in or the people who made these rules live in, but twenty-five thousand is not enough to take care of ones self and two kids.
And so, I decided that it's time for us to take ownership of our stories. So that's why I really wanted to get into journalism and I, um, had a background in Africana Studies ‘cause I wanted to understand what caused us to be here, you know. Like, what caused the black community to struggle and suffer so ‘cause when I look at the sixties and the rise of the black middle class, or the twenties and the thirties, and things like the Black Wall Street’s, you know. I'm like, well, there was hope, you know, there was hope. You had everybody, you had intellectuals, you had W.E.B Du Bois, you had entrepreneurs, your Madame CJ Walkers; you know, you had journalists, like your Ida B Wells. So like, we, we have this large rich section of history of accomplished black people, of pushing forth their own narratives and trying to change the situation that they were unfortunately born in, but I didn't really see these stories. I had to go through the backdoor to find them and so, if I can start telling these stories if I can introduce people to this narrative, you know, through mass-media, then maybe these negative stereotypes that’s associated with us, could change.
So, after Rutgers, to be honest, I didn't think I was going to get a fair shake in the media industry. I'm like, as a, as a black man, you know that come from a humble beginnings and also who made mistakes in his past. So I have a record, and like, well, a lot of people don't want to deal with me, what can I do to just make myself more desirable in the eyes of these media organizations. And I decided to pursue my Master’s, so I decided to pursue my Master’s in Documentary Journalism at Columbia University, because when I heard journalist, where do all the desk journalist come from– they’re like, well it’s from Columbia University. So you know, that's what I did. I pushed to get in and you know, they saw something in me and they gave me a shot. So I graduated with my Master’s in Columbia– from Columbia University in December of 2016, and then afterwards I decided to start my own video production company to tell the stories you know, that I wanted to tell.
Wow, so you have a video production company.
Yeah.
Can you tell me about that?
It's called Cinematic Productions. So, um, even though I appreciate Columbia University and this isn’t like, by any means like, downing them, this is just more or less a critique on how news work, things like newsworthiness and hits like these are what we are focused on, in news today. We are not focused on actual stories. I was critiqued by certain professionals while I was studying at Columbia University. They stated that my stories tended to be too focused on minority communities. But I have a background in Africana Studies, that my whole reason I got into journalism was to uplift people of color, was to tell the actual stories even if we are talking about what the nation considered quote unquote, “the undesirables,” or just the bad people. Well, they have a story as to how they got there. You know, the average drug dealer didn't just pick up a pack and say, “Hey, I wanna be like Scarface.” Like, I could tell you from my own experience, majority of the drug dealers I knew were homeless at one point, and they were given an out– a way to obtain some type of upward mobility, like, and even though people would argue then why couldn't they just get a job?
Well, they were not readily available for people in these inner cities. You know, you’re dealing with a large immigrant population, you know, that’s like, that's also competing for the same jobs that Native Americans are competing for, you know, and like for– you have a large immigrant population, you know, that’s like, that's also competing for the same jobs that Native Americans are competing for, and then you also have like a lower class white population that's competing for the same jobs as well. So when you start talking about who are we going to give these jobs to– Like, usually the people of color kind of are overlooked, you know. Like, they are not given as much of an opportunity or like, let's say the more experienced white counterparts or sometimes immigrants that are being exploited because they don't understand labor laws. And so when you give them an ounce, when you’re like, “Hey, if I put this pack in your hand, you know, like, instead of making like,” – what, eight dollars an hour was minimum wage for me when I was growing up, eight or nine dollars an hour– “Look, I can help you make a couple hundred dollars a day.” And it wasn't like that people were getting a large sum of money, you know, they weren't just like alright, they become millionaires off the drug game. But they were getting just enough to put a roof over their head, to feed themselves. Maybe a couple of family members you know, and to throw on a decent outfit and you like, I don't really think that people were as empathetic to these types of stories, as they should of been. Because if we were sympathetic to those types of stories, then you know, we might have tried to hold the slum lords a little bit more accountable for their actions, for, for not taking care of these project housing complexes getting rid of the black mold or the rodent infestation problems, you know. We might have held these constructions companies a little bit more accountable for their actions, you know. For paying people meager wages under the table, because they knew that, you know, maybe your papers are not straight or maybe you have a background or maybe you don't have a high school diploma, so we are going to just take an advantage of you, ‘cause we know that you can't get a job anywhere else. Like we would have probably held you know, like, our states-people, you know, our congress or senate, like we probably help their feet to the fire and ask them to start investigating these atrocities taking place and holding these other individuals accountable for their actions, you know, so I feel like this is what good journalism does. You don't stereotype somebody, you don't stigmatize, demonize, criminalize an individual, you try to find out the root of that story. How did this happen? And why does this continue to happen? And by finding out that root, I guarantee you that nine times out of ten, you see that there are circumstances outside of that person's cell, that caused them to engage into those types of activities.
You know so like, that was basically what I've been trying to do, and since people that I interacted with while I was attending Columbia, felt like this wasn’t journalist work, this was more advocate work– that I wasn't able to be objective as a journalist, I thought that best thing I could do was attempt to create a media outlet where I could tell the stories I want to tell– the stories I feel need to be told, without having to walk that line of, “Yo, are you really a journalist or are you not?” And that is a ridiculous line in my eye, there is no such thing as objectivity, you know. If you just say that you say that you are Republican or Democrat, your objectivity just went out the window. You can try to keep it out of your writing, even like how can a subjective art be objective. Writing itself is subjective. It’s based on your experience, it’s based on your perception, it’s based on your political beliefs, this is what shapes your writing. So you’re saying that I’m objective, because I can remove myself from the story. Regardless, your voice is going to teeter towards your views or the side that you support. But um, yeah, um. And that is what Cinematic Productions, that's the goal for it. You know, is for me to be able to do that, to tell these stories that I feel go overlooked.
Currently though, because unfortunately that doesn’t pay the bills, currently I've been working with aspiring entrepreneurs. I’ve been working with artists, I've been working with, um, I guess somewhat corporate folks. You know like, um, men and women who have twenty to thirty years in corporate, that’s looking to brand themselves and looking to push their image out to the Internet. So that's basically what brings you know, like, the money, but I'm here ‘cause I get to work with individuals who have the same vision, you know, that may want to tell that, may want to put together a documentary about, let’s say, the history of graffiti. That may want to focus on, you know, the new high rises that’s popping up, and how they are pushing out the native Newark population. That want to focus on the lack of job opportunity or the homeless crisis. Like, it gives me a chance to sit down with them, you know, and exchange ideas and, you know, help them work on their projects. Also people, you know, people who are trying to push a different narrative on things like, you know like, it may be fiction narratives but different narrative like on black love where you see a stable black relationship [laughs], or our love for our artistry things and things of that nature. So yeah, it's a powerful community and I'm happy to be part of it.
So, Chris, where are you from?
Um, I was born in Jersey Shore Medical Center, so in the States. I’m from Asbury Park, New Jersey. But I was sent to Haiti when um, I was six months. I was raised in Au Cap-Haïtien in Haiti.
Oh wow, so you were raised in Haiti. When did you come back to New Jersey?
It was like, a back and forth, so I can't remember the first time I came back, but um, I know let’s see– I stayed there– I stayed there for about four to five years and I came back like the third grade, when I was in the third grade, I believe. I think when I was like around nine or something.
Where did you go to school?
My school history is, is a history on its own. Of course, I was originally in school at first, I was going to Bradley, I remember that’s probably the youngest, I was going to Bradley, that's in Asbury, and then I was in school in Haiti for a bit, I can't tell you how long. And then, I remember going to middle school and high school in North Fort Myers and Cape Coral, Florida. And it was like a tragic and interesting experience. I actually wrote my undergrad thesis, my honors thesis on the privilege of education and why I state that education itself, itself is not a right. It's a privilege that's more focused or censored more on your social-economic background. I state this ‘cause I was a child of busing when I was going to school in Florida. So my mother, she didn't understand a lot about America, but she understood the value of education ‘cause she was a school teacher in Haiti herself. So she attempted not to send us to schools in the same neighborhood that we lived in, ‘cause she understood that if she did do that, we wouldn't get, you know, we wouldn’t have been educated well. So she usually sent us to white neighborhoods to get educated in. You know, so school was like, different. The majority of my classmates were, you know, you know, like, I guess the terminology, “red blooded Americans,” this is what people say. But like, but they were the majority, were white and privilege. It was funny ‘cause the bus would come pick us up from the hood, then go pick them up from you know, from these quarter million dollar houses where they have their own pools and basketball courts, and meanwhile we don’t even, we barely have grass around our way.
But yeah, originally, I was going to school, yeah. I remember in high school, I went to Cape Coral, and I think for every twenty-somethin’ white student, there was one black student. But the teachers actually cared though and that was what I respected about it. Like if I got a C on a, on like a test, I would be approached by my teacher, like, “Okay, what can we do to turn this C into a B?” You know, and it wasn't like I was just, like, wrong, it was like you’re right to a certain point, you– you made an error here, you know. And so those teachers cared, but I also interacted with, you know, I also interacted with racist teachers. I use to play the violin when I was younger and I played it and it originally started as a dare, right. So when I was in middle school, they used to bring you through different classes, you know, things like Home Ec, like band, like orchestra, they would let you pick two classes out of them. And um, my friend was like, hey, when they brought us by the orchestra area, you know, orchestra classroom, my friend was like, “I dare you to sign up for orchestra and say that you’re going to play the violin.” So I was like, okay cool. I wrote my name down, Christopher Etienne. What instrument would you like to play? Violin.
So, I’m about to walk out the classroom and the orchestra teachers stops me, this tall white guy, Like, um, he stops me and starts speaking to me and says, “Excuse me, are you Chris?” and I'm like, yeah and he's like, “Um, yeah– you signed up to play the violin in my class?” I’m looking back and forth like, I’m like, yeah. “Well, look, there has never been a black dude you know, that had completed my class. And I doubt that you would be the first one, why don't you do both of us a favor and scribble your name off of this.” So I looked at him, you know, old stubborn angry child, I looked him up and down like he was my size. I'm like, “Nah, I do want to play.” You know, how about that and I wanna play now and I signed on purpose. I stuck with it, I actually enjoyed playing the violin when I was younger. And I stuck with it, and I definitely wasn't as good as the prodigies, so I never made first chair, but I became one of the heads in the second chair for all in orchestra. And it was phenomenal. I enjoyed it but, um, when I shifted from going to school in Florida, when I came back to Jersey– my mother and father separated, my mother had sent me to Jersey to live with my father, like um, like mid-high school, like it was like, kinda like started off the ninth grade like, “Hey, I think it is time for you to go to your father.”
When I went to Asbury Park High School, it was a different dynamic, we had no orchestra there so I couldn't play a violin anymore. In Florida, you know, I use to write poetry and teachers were trying to help me get published. In Jersey, there was no place for poets and I was like, nobody really gave a damn. And I knew the shortcomings of the school system when I started failing every one of my classes, like an F in every one of my classes, and I was very big– I wasn't the most intelligent child, but I was very big on academics. Like, I loved things, like when I was younger, like social studies, I enjoyed it immensely. I loved um, I loved some of the sciences. I’m not a math person, I love literature, I love language arts, I would always excel in these specific fields. But when I was failing in Jersey, my parents didn't even get a letter home, nobody cared. It was just so normalized, like, “Yeah, like just another one of these little, black dudes failing all his classes, who cares?”
And they just kept me moving along and really, I just got lost, I just got lost in that system and I didn’t understand and to be honest, I actually dropped out of high school when I was, what, just turning sixteen because I had so much issues going on at home, and nobody cared. Like, a teacher didn't stop by, a cop didn't ask how come he is not in school, it was just another child just lost in the system. Versus when I was in Florida, I actually like, I actually had teachers, guidance counselors, principals, people who would sit down with me, taking an interest in what I was taking an interest in. So I feel that just experiencing that, through busing, when I interacted in different communities in New Jersey, that narrative is not shared, you know, through these different communities. If you’re coming from a more upper class community, that not your narrative, that's not your story. They have arts programs, they have after school programs for you. Teachers care, you know, you get issued laptops at the beginning of the semester. We were sharing books, we used to share books because mine might be missing a chapter, but yours that has the chapter that mine is missing, and I’d have the chapter that you are missing. And I felt that us as students, we’re like, they don't even give a damn about us to get us a full book. We couldn't even take the book home with us, we had to copy the chapters down, in our notebooks, that's how we studied. And like just going through that, it made me fall out of love with education, something that I cared about at one point. And so, I started seeking out why this this was and when I realized that this has to do with a classist state of society, it gives people certain resources and just overlook other individuals. It just is depressing.
What did that do to you, beyond the depression?
It pushed me to the streets. I'm not gonna say it pushed me to the streets, it was a lot of circumstances that pushed me to the streets, but it just made it seem like success was out of my reach and for some reason, the guys on the block that was pitching, they looked like success. They didn’t need for nothing, they had their own. They were helping working families pay rent. Like if you was going to college, you would come see the dope boys or the coke boys and stuff. And they would help you with like, if you need money for food, they would put it in your hand. They’ll be like, school ain’t for me, but hopefully you found your way out, and when you get big, come and get me, man, help me out of here too. So like this is– it was tough, because in these communities, they are so secluded that you don't have anyone to look up to but the dope boys, but the coke boys, you know. ‘Cause like, it wasn't just white flight that hurt these inner city communities. White flight, yes, it did cripple us to a certain degree, ‘cause they took their businesses with them. They took their resources with them and the fucks given left with them as well. So like, now no one gives a fuck about the schools anymore, no one gives a fuck about the after-school program, no one gives a fuck about the boys and girls club. Because the people who had businesses, you know, who were feeding these non-profits left, you know.
But like, it wasn't only that, it was black middle class flight too, you know. So the individuals who would be successful– the scholars, the lawyers, the doctors, the Huxtables, you know, like that– like a lot of that use Huxtables loosely, just this idea of like successful middle class black family– it wasn't present. We did not see that, so when people attempt to talk down on individuals like, why don't you look up to, um, your W.E.B DuBois's, you know, why don't you look up to your Henry Lewis Gage Jr's, your Cornel Wests, but they are not in the hood. They are not apart of this community. In our eyes, they don't even understand our struggle. Like the people who are part of this community that are helping us, like they aren't black doctors or lawyers or anything of that sort, it's the dope boys. They have been an investment in the community because this community is keeping their pockets lined. And if these are the only people who care about me to put food in my stomach, to put shoes on my feet, to pay the neighbors rent– they are the people helping the old ladies with their groceries, and when they are coming into their house– and I'm not saying that drug dealers are benign individuals you know, good Samaritans, stand up guys– I’m just saying, that it's hard to look for a doctor– it’s hard to look up to a doctor when he doesn't exist in your community, you know. Like, if the only role models of what your idea of success is, which is usually materialistic gains, are the people who are selling drugs, then of course these are the people that you will gravitate to. You don't possess enough knowledge to understand that, like, know that there is another way out. Like the majority of people from my community didn't even know about federal grants to go to college.
Like I go back, and interact with individuals I grew up with, you know some of them are not living the classiest life. Some of them were able to get out and some of them are still in there. But regardless, me going back and forth, I helped six of my friends get into college but when I first proposed the idea to them, they’re like, I don't have twenty-thousand to put upfront. And I'm like, you don't put up twenty-thousand to get into, that's not how it works, you take out loans, you fill out this paperwork. You know, you are a first generation Haitian as well, you this but we are not taught that. So if you think that I have to come out fifty-grand, twenty-grand, just so I can go to school, of course you're gonna adopt a defeatist mind state, why cause the people who can teach you something beyond that, they left. They left ‘cause they’re concern about the plummeting property value so they want to go somewhere they can actually have a nest egg, and the only places, the only places that have that are usually more affluent communities.
So you’re trying to do what you felt like you didn't have when you went to school in Asbury Park?
Yeah, I don't have like the best rep, I was the guy you stayed away from, but people who grew up with me when they see this transformation and they are like, if you can do it, I can do it too. And I'm like yes, you can, you can definitely do it. Like people who looked up, like accomplishments even though, and I feel like I have long way to go. I don't feel like I accomplished too much, but I just accomplished a lot of student debt, I definitely accomplished that. Like this idea of success, I don't think that I reached it yet. Like, they consider accomplishment for just getting out, for not being six feet under or doing a crazy amount in jail. Despite those circumstances, you found a way to pursue something that you are passionate about, so for me to share this story, me going back is just an ember of hope for some people.
And it may or may not resonate with everybody. There are people doing activities that are not legal, any way, shape, or form that are doing way better than I am. You know, who already own houses and cars while I’m still taking public transportation, so don’t look at me like, yeah you did all that and what has it got you? But then, there are people who are like, “Yo, you went to school, you pushed for that, you pushed for that, so yeah, I want to give it a shot, do you think I can do that?” Man, you are more than capable. And it doesn't stop with them, like through the Mountainview Project, which is a project which basically gives formerly incarcerated individuals a chance at higher education, which was a project that I was indoctrinated in, you know, just from a guy named Doctor Donald Rodan. I didn't know him from a can of paint but he read one of my essays. I got my GED when I was incarcerated– I told you I dropped out of high school at fifteen years old– and while I got my GED, we had to work on my writing and I always had a passion for writing, and when I learned about people that I should've learned about, like, I learned about Frederick Douglass in jail, like I learned about Booker T. Washington in jail, W.E.B DuBois. I learned that the Black Panthers were actually a pro-community organization in jail, like I learned about this from older people in there, you know, who wanted to educate me on, you know, black history. And I learned it from like, from my teachers– I had a white woman, who’s name was Miss Denohe, who was just shocked and appalled that I didn't know about these individuals, and just threw me books, like, yo read this, read this.
And I was so inspired by some of these stories, like, I just wrote elaborate essays on these individuals and it fell in the lap of Doctor Donald Rodan. And he came up to me, and was like, “Hey, do you want to go to college?” And I laughed like, “College, me?” Like I’m going to get myself a nice trade, that’s what I’m gonna do. Like, not downing trades by anyway shape or form, I probably still should've done that and still went to college, but that is a whole other story. But I’m gonna get myself a trade and I'm going to be a labor man. People maybe don't trust me to work with my hands, ‘cause they are not gonna trust me with paperwork, but um, he seen something in me and continued to push, you know, like and seeing somebody believing in me, believing I could do something positive, kinda pushed me. Like maybe I can be– maybe I can get into college, maybe I can get into a four year institution so upon my release, um, first I went to Essex College Community College, then I went to Brookdale, then from there I went to Rutgers interview lined up, and Rutgers gave me a shot, so I didn't look back since.
But if it wasn't for that, for that, that small belief in me, I wouldn't have done anything. I probably would've worked at the factory that my elders worked at, you know. I would've been comfortable just, just, just pushing out as much hours looking at, oh shoot, the supervisor is letting me work eighteen hours today. Like, that’s a accomplishment, that's not taking away from your livelihood, your interactions with your family, this isn't the roaring twenties, we don't have to be stuck in factories for damn near twenty hours a day just to put some food on our plates. Like, it shouldn't be like that, but like that was the idea of success in my hood as legitimate– as legitimate hard work, and success was able to put fourteen, twenty hours a day, doing that five days a week, you know, like being able to bring back a check where you can actually save a couple of hundred after you pay your rent and car insurance. So I’m like, I could tell people that there is another way, so I don't just stop with my hood, I go back to people who are just released, if I'm doing a prison. But I use to do it every summer, until Rutgers had to let one of my mentors go, we use to do something where we would bring in all of the juveniles who are on probation and state parole would bring them in on Rutgers campuses. We’ll set up, I'll take the stage and tell them my background and tell them my accomplishments and just to let them know that it is not over. ‘Cause you have child that think like, “Damn, I have a juvenile record, it’s over for me, I'll never have a shot.” Like no, it's not over. And what I want to do in the future is not just help people post-incarceration, like I'm hoping that I will be able to get some kids before that happens. Maybe deal with at risk youth exclusively who are going though those type of situations, and help them reshape that dynamic, and get them an opportunity at success without having to go through this burden of incarceration. This, this stigma of record on your jacket, without having to go into that, who knows, they might want to be prosecutors or lawyers or judges. They can’t get there with a juvenile record, so like, if we can catch them before that jail prison pipeline blindsides them, then you’re talking about a reservoir of untapped potential that can help reshape this nation.
It seems like hope is a really strong theme as your narrative.
Yeah, I see hope. Without it, man, oh my gosh, I don't know where the hell I’d be. It was hope and mental issues and role models and like, one of my biggest role models– and she refused to even embrace that title– is my older sister. Like, the sister I told you that was barely making twenty-five-thousand a year with two kids. She didn't have two kids, she had three, ‘cause I was the extra mouth to feed, as well. That's who I went to live with post-incarceration, she carried me on her back. Like when I was going to Essex County College, she was giving me the money to go on the train to go everyday, ‘cause she just believed that, “He wants education, and if I can help him out, then I’m going to.” I’m starving at Rutgers [laughs], ‘cause I didn't have enough money to live off-campus, you know, like and buy food, like it was her that came through. And she does the same thing for family members, whether they are our family members in Haiti, she is over there putting packages together for them, going over there, visiting the family, dropping off money to them. It’s like– and I sit down and I look at what she is able to do with just crumbs and that's what society gives her, is crumbs, and when she asks for more, they’re like work harder. Like I done had conversations with my sister where she pulled damn near sixty hour shifts. Sleeping like, a hour every eight hours and stuff, but not leaving her work environment ‘cause she has to make a certain amount of money to make sure the child's are taken care of, to make sure the house is taken care of. Like, calling her on the phone, making sure I’m loud enough to keep her coherent while she is attempting to drive home miles after work after sixty straight hours. I see her dedication, and for me to complain– I can’t, ‘cause she deserves more than that. You know, I have family back home in Haiti who deserve more than that. I have people who need me, who deserve more than that. So if I can be the motivation for other people, like my sister is to me, and I know like, I may not get everybody, but I can touch one soul, that you know will be able to be the person, will be a voice that people are willing to follow.
Which is amazing, how much a spirit can go through and still not be broken.
I think we've been broken. I've been broken. Almost everybody I know, you know, like, um, big up to MVP too, they’re also people I just look up to, you know, like I'm not gonna start naming names. I’m not sure everybody wants to be named, but uh, my cohort, my brothers, they know that I'm talking straight to them. I know those who are chemical engineers, who came from the same pits that I came from, and I know members of my cohorts who just became social workers, who once again catch the youth, you know, before they fall victim to the school to prison pipeline. I know members of my cohorts who are working with Rutgers, who would never thought they would never have the opportunity, who have been in more ordeals than one could possibly think of, who been in danger of failing out, who lost everything but somehow just by being tenacious and driven was able to make diamonds out of their lump of coal. Like, I know individuals who are part of my cohorts who I just look up to, I’m grateful to have around me, so it’s just in my eyes. It's just unfortunate the struggle continue to just be– so cumbersome.
Like, when I was younger, it was like, you go to college and you try your hardest, and people give you a shot. I wish the narrative was true. I got paperwork back from a job I applied for two weeks ago after a post-interview. Unfortunately, I have been on probation for so long and I just got off probation on the paperwork that they pulled from my background check, it doesn't look flattering at all. It comes from, like, people say that it takes place seven years post-incarceration and you like done like these jobs to stop looking, like post parole meaning like even if you committed a crime a decade ago, if you were on probation for a decade, then in the eyes of these companies, that crime happen a day or two ago. So they still have problems trusting you, they still have problems giving you a job– It’s like my friends and I, we, my cohort, the individuals I’m close with, we really don't want anything but a job. Or like, we just want a chance to prove that we could work with you. We want a chance to prove that we are capable to doing what we studied, what we earned our Bachelor's, what we earned our Masters to do, and it's not that easy. We’re not– given that opportunity, you know, it's just, it irks us. Like, I know people with Bachelor’s degrees, who have to flip wings and burgers, hoping one day that job will call them. Who had had to do things they are over-qualified to do because they picked the wrong industry. We don't love anything more than STEM and even with STEM, you have a background and you’re trying to get into a STEM career is crazy. So imagine what will happen if you’re trying to get into anything tailored into the liberal arts. Artistic in any fashion, it's not gonna be a easy journey so I broke down. My soul has been broken, I’ve been defeated along the way, it's just, I’ve been fortunate enough to attempt to will myself to get back up, and when I lost that will, I had somebody that– who had enough hope, strength, and will in them too, to keep us both up. And I'm grateful for them and yeah, like we been beaten down, we been in worst situations for it, so we aspire to be more than ourselves.
I just think it's unfortunate that I constantly– we constantly– I’m speaking to anybody, I’m speaking to, like minorities that been discriminated against because of their skin color– I’m speaking to the women of my life that cant get a decent job just because of them being in a place that male dominated. I'm speaking to people with backgrounds, people who had English as a second language, I’m speaking to this minority– these minority communities, it shouldn't be this hard. I'm tired of pick yourself up from the bootstrap. Oh, as a black person or a color person, a person of color, you just gotta understand that the price you gotta face, and you gotta persevere past it, like no, like no, that it’s not suppose to be like that matter of fact I don't even like the word perseverance anymore. I heard my non-colored friends say it so much, what I respect about people of color is their perseverance, like why the fuck you respect our capability to struggle. Our endurance through our struggle is what you respect the most about us, fuck that, let’s do something to equal the playing field, and God forbid you speak about that. You say you want an equal playing field, everybody says that's a hand out. Like no. Fifty percent of job applicants are rejected because they have a black-sounding name. For me to tell you to get rid of that is not a hand out, it’s democratic, it’s equality, it's the premise of our very nation. People get discriminated against for having– I’ve been because of my locs, I've been asked to cut them on several occasions, if I really wasn't to get into the field I really want to get into. That shouldn't be a reason why I’m discounted from a job. If I proved that I’m capable professional, neither should my background. Why do these traits hinder me from being able to take place in my democracy and when I asked you overlook these traits, I’m asking for a hand out. It just– it doesn't compute and it doesn't make sense.
What do you envision for the future?
Oh my gosh, I'm terrified, we just the GOP is about to pick the second Supreme Court Justice. I pray everyday of the help for the health of Ruth Bader Ginsburg because if she goes, that's a definitely a wrap, like civil rights is something that took four hundred years to take place for black Americans, and now we are witnessing an undoing of it, and the reason there’s an undoing of it, people are claiming that we are past it and beyond civil rights and that we don't need it no more, and that is a scary thought. The fact that civil right has to get renewed every twenty-five years is like, a scary thought to me, I thought it was just something permanent and I thought we understood that we should give people of color civil rights, that's not even equal, we are just saying be civil. Don't discriminate against me when it comes to housing because of my skin color, let’s try to even the odds in the realm of high education. Because of segregation and Jim Crow laws, a lot people of color were backtracked and when it came to education, shoot, we wasn't allowed to read. Fought two-hundred something odd years right, and we are asking for you to be civil and grant us an opportunity because we've been ostracized and, and deprived from these opportunities for so long and now we are in a era, we are in the, “get over it era” when we didn't even get it right yet. How do it get over something that was never fixed, you know, that's like, it just doesn't make sense to me that, like my boss not paying me, then find a way to pay me a wage that I cannot do anything with, and when I complain about this wage, it's like, “Get over it, at least you’re not a slave anymore.” No, it doesn't work like that. We have to be beyond that, we have to be empathetic towards one another, I guarantee you will not switch shoes with me. Until white America is comfortable with equality to the point where they are willing to switch out shoes with black America, we have not progressed.
We didn't make it yet, we didn't reach equality, we didn't reach democracy, we reached nothing and please don't try to bring up the outliers to me anymore. I'm tired of hearing about the Oprahs, I’m tired of hearing about the MJs, I’m tired of hearing about– yo, come on man, seriously you’re gonna bring up the small group of black people in the one percent to validate why we shouldn't deserve equality. Why we don't deserve equality? It’s mind boggling to me, and I'm praying that in the future, that maybe Martin Luther King's speech, “I have a dream” will come true, ‘cause schools are more segregated now than they were fifty years ago. We got rid– we all but got rid of busing in the North. We can’t even send my child to a school if you don't live in that specific neighborhood, and if you can’t live in the neighborhood if you’re not in the specific tax bracket, and then you’re dealing with schools with scarce resources. When I was in Asbury Park, I had no new stuff, man, we couldn't even get our hands on teachers that would stay around. When I went to other city schools, the other majority of teachers, not to discriminate against them, but they were like the great white hopes. You know. Like dangerous minds, [laughs] like this is what you see, we couldn't get teachers with color that empathized with our struggle. Do you know that they say, like twenty-five percent of minority go through high school– go through education period, dealing with a mental disability that were never addressed. Maybe we can start doing that, addressing these mental disabilities, maybe we can start bringing resources to these schools. Like, like I want a laptop in my classroom, I want the same laptop that Billy has in his. Why is it the property taxes pay for public schools, anyway? Why can't we find a more democratic way to allocate these funds? It’s just like, as I don't see us getting past this, we are really embracing education opportunity resources as a privilege, like, yo just try harder, like it weird to me.
I remember I was reading up on Thurgood Marshall– Thurgood Marshall, one of my favorite Supreme Court justices of all time– when he was pushing for Brown v. Board of Education, it just wasn't just him that was like, um, putting things out into perspective. It was a sociologist, it was Kenneth Clark, if I remember correctly, and he was the guy who created the paper, the doll test and he will put a black doll in front of a white kid and black kid, and a white doll in front of a white kid and black kid, and ask which one is prettier or which one was smarter and anything that was negative was associated with– to the black doll and everything positive was associated to the white doll, right. So, Kenneth Clark had said something, the thing that bothered me the most was that people didn't see past the doll test. They thought that’s it. No, what's happening is, when you segregate these schools to this point and the groups of individuals are treated like a superior people, they automatically, they automatically have a lesser view of individuals who are not part of that class group. So white America schools are more segregated than black America schools are. You’re talking about ninety– ninety to ninety-five, ninety-eight percent are all white classrooms, who never get to interact with kids of color, so you never break bread with them, you never play with them, you never fall down and scrape your knee with them, so you have no experience about them, except with what you have in mass media. And unfortunately, mass media doesn't have the favorable opinion on black Americans, either. So you are gonna draw negative and racist conclusions about these other kids– as a child, you’re going to, because you never had a chance to interact with them in the first place. And that’s what’s happening, this is creating a national divide that no one wants to address, right. Thurgood Marshall said, like they asked him, I believe when is, when is the equality in the school systems gonna be reached and he said, when you can't tell the difference between a white school and a black school, and we are worse off now than we were fifty years ago, ‘cause you can definitely tell the difference.
So, my view for the future, it is Thurgood Marshall's view, that you can’t tell the difference between a white school and a black school. My view for the future, it is Dr. Kings view, you know, you’re judged by your capability, like, not your aesthetic features that you have no control over. Like, my views for the future, it is Frederick Douglass views. Giving. With the North Star, he was– gave people of color to share the stories that mass media wasn't letting them to share. These are the views that I have for the future, but the future is daunting ‘cause the individuals with the power, they don't see anything wrong with the way that society is. Barring, you know, tax cuts, they don't see any other issue with society. So I'm hoping that maybe one day, they will be American enough to critique the nation, to truly engage in the authentic of democracy–
The right person may just hear that and just offer support. You have no idea how many of us is begging for an opportunity. If it wasn't for this business, I don't know where the hell I would be. I’m not even generating an insane amount of profit, I'm just getting by. I’m hoping that we could, I just– I sit down and I'm like, yo if I was a lesser man, I would’ve went back and done the shit I got locked up for. When you like, I'm applying for five to ten jobs a day, I’m reaching out to all my resources. I’m humbling myself willing to take pay cuts and doing everything else I can think of, and you don't see anything happening in front of you, you still see years of struggle and strife, it's just disheartening. So. I hope, I don't know what we have to do to make this better, especially for my brothers who have a record. I just want to find a way to do something, bro. That's probably why I can't sleep at night and it's not just about me, ‘cause once again, we just want Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs [laughs],
We’re not– I’m not asking for– I don't need a Lambo, I don't need none of that flashy shit, we just want Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. And it's so tough to get it. I've been trying to find a way to do it. I’m even working with a couple of classmates, we are trying to start a um, a, a single-parent living community. We already filed the paperwork for a 501(c)(3), we are starting a single-parent living community for families out in Newark, for families who are going through financial strife in Newark. We are trying to begin a program that are allowing these families to live in a space for twelve months rent free, while we teach them financial literacy, while we teach them the– not the fiscal responsibility, but job skills, trying to get them an income of fifty thousand dollars a year, through like union work, and stuff like that. So pushing for that, but that still doesn't solve the individual post-incarcerations that can’t find a chance, can’t find a shot. It doesn't solve the issue for the person in the inner city that's just passionate about a profession and has no way to get in, and it hurts you know, and you’re like, this narrative, why don't you just work, why don't you just hire me? It just like, I just been trying to tackle it and I can't find a way to do that and it's just crazy.
I can't find a place where people are trying to collaborate truly to do that, to provide something as simple as stable income, you know, especially in this economy. I was talking to a couple of my friends in, um, Rutgers New Brunswick, I use that lab all that time to do my video editing. remember I was there, like now the faculty sees me there so much, they just know me by name and they just call me by my first name basis. They are like, “What are you up to?” “Yeah, I’m just doing another project,” I'm like, “Y’all need to stop playing and hire me for a job out here,” and they are like, “We don't even know if we are keeping our job.” [Laughs] I don't know what to do about this. I don’t know what to do about this, but I do know I'm going to fight.
If we don't at least try then, there are no reasons to be out here. A lot of us deal with, think about that. I was talking to one of my friends, he’s like, “My girlfriend’s afraid to be in the room with me sometimes, you know. Open the door, because I’m going to jump up. Like, ‘I’m here, it’s me, it’s me!’” It’s things like that we deal with post-incarceration. Like, I had to make sure I had my back to the wall before I get into a room, so I can just make sure things, it’s things like that. So imagine the amount of depression, you know, one feels being separated from anything they know, and love and being denied freedom. It’s, um, like, if you throw a dog in a cage, in a long amount of time, it could've been the most you know, like the happy-go-lucky dog, it’s gonna walk out of that cage with its tail tucked between its legs. Because it’s always fearful that this feeling of freedom right now, might be stripped away from them and we are not doing anything to remedy that, you know and yo, just, once again, “Just get over it, you did your time, get over it.” One of my friends was in freaking– twenty-three in solitary confinement for years. For years, bro, in a freaking room by himself. “Nobody cares, you did the crime, get over it.” It’s just– ugh.
Maybe we can grow empathetic enough to try to remedy this, but it’s just disheartening. I guess, if I were to say one last thing, out of everything I would tell everybody, is be empathetic towards your brothers and sisters, be empathetic towards humankind, be empathetic towards another life, you know. We should be– If we really try to eradicate these struggles. It's like, we still have specials coming out on Jon– Benét Ramsey, what’s her name again? JonBenét Ramsey, the little white girl who was the child star pageant queen, everybody is still going crazy over her, right? Over eleven-hundred unarmed people was shot to death by cops last year and they’re faceless. Why? ‘Cause a majority of them were people of color and they are considered bad people. If we are more empathetic to these type of individuals, our prison system wouldn't be so packed. Maybe labor, working class workers, would have insurance. Maybe we would embrace the idea that everyone deserves insurance or an opportunity for education– I'm not asking for people to be– I’m not asking for people to give handouts, I’m asking us to be humanitarians, to care about our fellow humans, and we all deserve to be able to have our basic needs met– So, hopefully– shoot, even I've seen dogs grab hurt dogs out of traffic, risk their lives to save a stray dog they don’t know out of traffic. It's like at times even animals are more humane than we are. That’s crazy. So hopefully like, that’s my wish, to be empathetic.
Thank you so much, Chris.