We Do This ‘Til We Free Us

Summary, part 5, 6, & 7

Part 5: We Must Practice and Experiment: Abolitionist Organizing and Theory

This part of the book compiles writings that discuss different strategies and options for what abolitionist theory and organizing can look like. 

Victim-Focused Justice

Jon Burge was a detective and police officer that used brutal interrogation tactics from 1972-1991 (Hayes, 2019). In 2015, a package was passed by Chicago City Council for Burge’s victims, which included: 

• A reparation fund, 

• A formal apology, 

• Specialized counseling services, 

• History lessons taught in Chicago public schools about the torture, 

• and more. 

This case provides a positive example of what victim-focused justice (justice that focuses on the needs of the victims, with practical support for victim’s healing and journey) looks like. This case also highlights how organization wins such as this one are often built on the backs of organizers from previous years. This is why collective care and community action are essential to center in abolition work. 

Most cases do not end in a “win” like this. Often, organizers and abolitionists have to focus on lowering standards in order to challenge the prison system directly and to help victims out quickly. This will often look like defense campaigns. These campaigns focus on developing “strategies that actually reduce the number of people being incarcerated … They are an important strategy, allowing abolitionists to address the needs of incarcerated people without inadvertently strengthening the prison system” (p. 111). 

Police Officers Who Commit Murder

While this does not directly support the abolition of prisons, it does undermine the prison industrial complex by calling for the real consequences of cops, instead of just placing them in prisons and perpetuating systems of violence. 

An abolitionist campaign centered in Chicago called the #FireDanteServin sought to fire a police officer after he shot and killed Rekia Boyd, a 22-year-old Black woman. He was tried for “the extrajudicial killing of an unarmed Black person. In fact, prior to him, it had been seventeen years since a cop was tried for killing someone in Cook County” (p. 124). He walked free. 

Several activist groups met, including feminists, abolitionists, anarchists, and began to strategize how to continue the fight for justice and honor Rekia’s name and legacy. Eventually, as a byproduct of the well-orchestrated and organized events by the groups, “the Independent Police Review Authority recommended the firing of Servin.” (p. 122).

While it is possible to critique this effort and argue that the firing of the one police officer was just focusing on individualizing harm, Kaba gives a list of six reasons why it was important to fire Servin: 

1. Consistent with abolitionist and accountability goals.

2. Out of the desire of the grieving family and friends.

3. Mobilization actions surrounding  #BlackWomenAndGirlsLivesMatter.

4. Provided a tangible way for collective action efforts to make a difference.

5. Brought local groups together and created lasting relationships.

6. Inspired other groups to create their own campaigns outside of this issue.

These examples showcase that although prison abolition is a long, hard fight, there are many strategies that can be used to help reduce harm and provide justice to victims. Ultimately, all of these efforts are only possible through collective action, organization, and mass mobilization as abolitionist strategies.

Part 6: Accountability Is Not Punishment: Transforming How We Deal with Harm and Violence

A central tenant in prison abolition is challenging how society views and understands punishment, harm and violence. This section focuses on differentiating between accountability and punishment. 

Punishment means inflicting cruelty and suffering on people whereas when you are expecting consequences, those can be unpleasant and uncomfortable, but they do not have to involve overt cruelty. For example, when a powerful figure is caught doing something wrong, a consequence for their action would be forcing them to step down for their job, but punishing them would mean sending them to jail so that when they leave, it would be extremely difficult to get a job again and live any kind of normal life again (p. 146). If you ask someone to move away so they can be further away from those they hurt, that is a consequence. A punishment would be if they were never able to secure housing again. 

You can’t advocate for someone’s imprisonment and be an abolitionist; this is merely mistaking emotional satisfaction for justice. This may frustrate people, but ultimately, if you are not willing to abide by the basic principles of abolition, then you can not call yourself an abolitionist. However, you don't have to be either an abolitionist or a reformer, there is an overlap with these groups, particularly as there are no abolitionists who do not want immediate reforms. 

Sometimes our feelings don’t align with our values. If you are happy or celebrate when someone is sent to jail, then ultimately, you do not uphold the pillar notions of abolitionist practice. This is why it is important to constantly challenge notions of what kind of justice you want to see for those who commit crimes. 

Two strategies for challenging the way we understand punishment and harm in our society:

Restorative Justice: This is “focused on the importance of relationships. It is focused on the importance of repair when those relationships are broken when violations occur in our relationships. It is very much interested in community” (p. 148).

Transformative Justice: We previously explored the transformative model in relation to the Nassar case. Transformative justice is “the idea that what happens in our interpersonal relationships is mirrored and reinforced by the larger systems. If you can’t think all the time about the interplay between those spheres, you end up too focused on the interpersonal, and therefore you cannot transform the conditions that led to the interpersonal harm and violence that you’re dealing with, challenges dichotomies between victim and perpetrator” (p. 149). 

Ultimately, the abolition of the prison industrial complex means challenging ideas of punishment, binaries between victim and perpetrator, and what justice looks like. While these are difficult changes to make, they are essential for the restructuring of a society that focuses on transformative and restorative justice instead of punitive sentencing.

Part 7: Show Up and Don’t Travel Alone: We Need Each Other

The final section of the book is primarily composed of interviews with Kaba. In these interviews, she stresses the importance of collectivity and working with people in your abolitionist community.

“Most organizers are activists also, but most activists are not organizers, and so we just have to be clear about what we’re trying to achieve” (p. 180). 

Activists often focus on taking action on a specific issue, meaning you personally take on an issue. It is a more individualized approach to social justice. 

Organizers, on the other hand, “... can’t exist solo. Because who the hell are you organizing? You can’t just decide to wake up one morning and be like, ‘I’m just going to do this shit.’ If you’re organizing, other people are counting on you, but, more importantly, your actions are accountable to somebody else.” (p 180). 

Collective care is the practice of caring for yourself through caring for your community. In this, she critiques the idea of self-care, particularly in the commodified way it is presented under capitalism (to read more about the way self-care has been commodified under capitalism, read this). For Kaba, collective care and community are essential to the abolitionist practice. 

Ultimately, Kaba argues that “abolition is flexible praxis, contingent on social conditions and communal needs, but it’s built on a set of core principles.” If you believe and fight for the core values, center your community, and show up consistently, then you can call yourself an abolitionist.