By Assata Shakur
On could 2, 1973, Black Panther Assata Shakur (aka JoAnne Chesimard) lay in a sanatorium, just about demise, handcuffed to her mattress, whereas neighborhood, nation, and federal police tried to query her in regards to the shootout at the New Jersey Turnpike that had claimed the lifetime of a white country trooper. lengthy a goal of J. Edgar Hoover's crusade to defame, infiltrate, and criminalize Black nationalist organisations and their leaders, Shakur used to be incarcerated for 4 years ahead of her conviction on flimsy proof in 1977 as an associate to murder.
This intensely own and political autobiography belies the fearsome snapshot of JoAnne Chesimard lengthy projected by means of the media and the country. With wit and candor, Assata Shakur recounts the reports that led her to a lifetime of activism and portrays the strengths, weaknesses, and eventual dying of Black and White innovative teams on the hand of government officers. the result's a sign contribution to the literature approximately becoming up Black in the United States that has already taken its position along The Autobiography of Malcolm X and the works of Maya Angelou.
Two years after her conviction, Assata Shakur escaped from criminal. She was once given political asylum via Cuba, the place she now resides.
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Additional info for Assata: An Autobiography
I wish there was something i can do to make them happy. Š Two Black nurses were very kind to me. When they were on duty, they would go out of their way to make sure i was all right. They made frequent trips to my room, for which i was especially grateful during those first days. “If you need anything, just ring,” they said knowingly. One night one of the nurses came in and gave me three books. I hadn’t even thought about reading. The books were a godsend. They had been carefully selected. One was a book of Black poetry, one was a book called Black Women in White Amerika, and the third was a novel, Siddhartha, by Hermann Hesse.
The doctor says she can talk. Where were you going? What is your name? Where were you coming from? Who was in the car with you? How many of you were there? ” I keep my eyes closed. One of them leans down real close to me. I feel his breath on my cheek. And smell it. ” My eyes fly open in spite of myself. Immediately they are all in my face, throwing question after question at me. I say nothing. After a while, i close my eyes again. “Oh, she doesn’t feel good,” one of them says in a sweet, mocking voice.
Anytime you need me or need anything from the nurses, just press this button,” she said. “Don’t be afraid to use it,” she added, giving me a knowing look. I could have kissed her. Later, when she returned to the room, after the troopers realized i had the call button, one came in behind her. ” he asked. ” “No,” she said, “there is no way to remove it. If you pull it out, it will just keep ringing in the nurses’ station. ” i thought. ” After that, whenever the police came within two feet of my bed, i would push the button.