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Struggle for Religious Freedom
For most of U.S. history, natives were not accorded the formal freedom of religious exercise. A right included in the first Amendment. The free exercise clause finally came to include natives in 1988 with the Indian Civil Rights Act, even though in 1978 Congress established the American Indian Religious Freedom Act, or AIRFA. These proposals ultimately failed in Congress. The amendment known as the Religious Freedom Restoration Act managed to succeed. Then in 2000, the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Person’s Act was established. Nevertheless, this act has the potential o also be ruled unconstitutional if the issue ever reaches the Supreme Court.
For centuries Natives experienced internal colonialism, forced assimilation, exploitation, discrimination, and cultural degradation. One of the steps ultimately required to achieve religious equality, will be the allowance and encouragement of Native religious practice and spiritual observance in prison.
Know your rights! Restrictions on a prisoner’s right to religious literature violates the first Amendment. Prison officials are not required to provide religious objects as long as inmates are free to purchase or obtain objects themselves. They cannot ban some objects and not others w/o justification. Prisoners have success with claims protecting religious dietary practices. Courts have ordered such diets be made available to inmates. Rejecting efforts by officials to charge inmates for religious diets. The religious and spiritual requirements of incarcerated natives are clearly not being met to a satisfactory degree.
The fact is Native America spands the continent from Alaska down to Mesoamerica. The word Mexican was originally Mexicano in Spanish. This was from the Aztec meaning half-breed or mixed blood. Mestiso is the word for half-breed in Spanish, from the Castillian. Chicano also comes from the Aztec Mexicano. When the Spaniards came to Native America, they carried their language with them. The culture that later became the Mexican culture was a product of intercultural marriages. The Spainiards intermixed with every nation of local natives – the Oaxaca, Yaqui, Navajo, Comanche, and many others such as the Aztec, Maya, Toltec and Olmec. The product of these mixes is the Mexican. Being Mexican is being par Spainiard and part Native. So a true Mexican will always be a mixed blood because that is what Mexican means. Tucson was still part of Mexico until 1914 , when it became part of he Gadsden Purchase. Look at Guatemala, Honduras, Columbia, the homelands of the indigenous populations. We didn’t draw the borders and stateliness, so the borders crossed us. The eagle of the North and the condor of the South. We will meet with our relatives because we are one, as the fingers of our hand.
The psychological process of demonizing our ancestors and their traditions is similar to what we see constantly at work in holy wars. Gospels teaching that God will not protect other children of the world unless they convert. Crystal clear “Divine” commands for he subjugation of different cultures including women and children. Wouldn’t a creator be a giver of life to all people regardless of race? Religions teach law and morality claimed as coming from an all-powerful entity yet written by man. We’ve reached a point in consciousness to understand these scriptures have a dangerous subtext that has been ignored at the peril of many people and cultures. The individuals who believe that he only road to heaven is to put all intellectual thinking and heretical roots in the garbage can are just maiming future generations. We have to come to terms with outdated spiritual arrogance, especially when it demands patriarchal dogma and tends to sever cultural inheritance. Even the most exalted and high minded doctrines seem mostly anchored in extortion and dependency. We received these so called Holy Books by those who dictate through spiritual conquest and enforce “God’s Plan”. Many hold tight onto foreign religion for no other reason than cultural extermination left them spiritually blinded. The problem is many do not read these books but claim them only as a matter of they desperately need something to believe in.
I was blinded by civilization to the point of urban, at least that’s what they called me when I was still watching Kermit. Guess I’m ambassador to a new type of warrior. I’ll take it and run with it. Plus I’m Heyoka, now look what I done with it. Comes with his Blackstone. If you sing one for me, better make it the flag song, and don’t get the words wrong. Sing it in my language, ‘cause I would be anguished, if you said land of the free and home of the braves. Indigenous holocaust and home of the slaves. Immortal technique, gangster rap made me do it. Honest NDN’Z is the truest. I’m on the warpath, this pen is my coup-stick. It’s funny ‘cause I’m stupid, off the poison they gave me. Alcoholic baby, that’s what it raised me, now I’m crazy. In a sacred way, it’s been a long hard road, straight to the grave. Till my casket drops but I’m in it today. Buried alive and brokenhearted. Here letters are like flowers, dearly departed. Death by a thousand cuts. Internally bleeding, I still give it to the people, I sacrifice it freely. Tell my baby I love her. Give thanks to her Mother. Somebody tell my cousin you don’t do that to a brother. One foot in the spirit world, see you when you get here. Or on the contrary, family first, at least that’s what they tell me. I believe in such virtue. I suffer with dignity. For all my relatives, I couldn’t do this without you.
Hello everyone! By the time y’all read this blog, I hope y’all have an open mind and a caring bone in y’alls bodies because I’m in need of a friend. There’s a lot more to me than what’s addressed in my 250-word profile. So, please don’t judge me before actually getting to know me. Now, as y’all know, I’m doing time in a state where I don’t know too many. After spending 3 ½ years getting to know people in one jail. I was moved to another. I’m in a very stressed and lonely situation. I’m housed in a cell where I spend most of my day locked in. I hope y’all can be understanding and write me. I’m looking for a long-term friendship, I’m tired of getting email messages, just to write back and have my letter returned to me or not get a response at all. I’m flexible, so tell me what y’all are looking for and we can go from there. I’m not here to bash anyone, but all the young women 18-25 of age seem to not understand why they are writing me on here. I need a woman that understands and knows why she’s reaching out to me. I’m looking for a woman older than 25 but younger than 70. I won’t mind if you’re younger, as long this is what y’all want! Don’t engage in writing me just to respond letting me know that you have a man/boyfriend and can’t write me anymore.
So, my PTSD issues were bothering me last night. There was a cold front and the winds kicked up pretty good during the night. On the roof of the building are ventilation fans that are controlled in the guard picket. When they aren’t on, they slam shut. Since the winds picked up, they kept slamming shut all night long. Being that this place is all steel and concrete, the air and sound reverberated frequently throughout the night and it drove me bananas. I slept like crap. It’s strange though, that I felt some comfort in the thought of being in the midst of combat. That is until I realized that I wasn’t; I was awake in prison. My spine went rigid, hairs on my neck stood up, my jaw clenched, my vision sharpened, and I jolted up ready to react. The thumping and sudden rush of air is unnerving, and I sit in the darkness wondering how it is that I came to be here. Am I crazy? Am I scared? The confusion is so uncomfortable and I hate that the fog is clearing as I begin to understand what is taking place. Reality sets in and here I am. This is my life. I can’t wait to leave this place.
My case was a high profile case that garnished a lot of local media attention where majority of the reporting was misleading and untrue.
I was in an intimate relationship with a friend who was planning a divorce. She didn’t want to raise her twin daughters around a “Meth Head” who REFUSED to get clean for his family….the drugs ruled his life.
Eventually, his paranoia led him to murder his wife and unborn children. Unfortunately, I was wrongfully convicted for his evil needs. In 2009 he committed suicide, while I’m left fighting for the truth and justice for her family and myself.
Forensic evidence excludes me and new evidence was discovered that the prosecutor withheld and suppressed that also excludes me – fingerprints found at the scene, time of death reports showing that evidence was “planted” to secure my wrongful conviction. My case was the “Perfect Storm”, the culmination of my adolescence and individuals who use me for favors and job advancements instead of the pursuit of justice. My situation is not that far from the documentary series “Making a Murderer”. The same underhanded police tactics were used in my case to secure my wrongful conviction.
I’m trying to draft a book about my case….the corruption involved and my crusade for justice. I’d like to find someone who can help me….are you willing to help me tell this story and get the truth out there? If you are, PLEASE write me today!
Living The Fast Life
Living The Fast Life….
Food for thought… Despite the isolation and loneliness, prison has been a huge learning experience. Not only do you discover a lot about yourself but you also learn who your real friends are. Everyone is your friend and there for you when times and good and you’re partying, but then it’s a different story when times get tough and you’re in a jam. I’ve learned the hard way that not everyone who smiles in your face is your friend. Especially when drugs are involved. 95% of those you call friends are really just associates of convenience. Only a small handful are actually genuine and will be there when you need them. Remember that, when you put those associates ahead of your family. Instead of listening to mine, I let the drugs, money and power that came with them cloud my judgment. I should’ve known better than to get involved with them but I did any way. Never could I have imagined that association would possibly cost me 30 years of my life. Now my future rests at the mercy of an appeals court. It’s a cold cruel reality I wake up to everyday. So choose your friends and associates carefully, because in the end the people you surround yourself with help define who you are and possibly affect your future. You don’t want to learn this the hard way….Spoken from experience.
Tim Larson #718833
Domestic Violence is being swept under the rug until elections come around then all of a sudden it’s in the minds of the judges and D.A. for a minute but not really genuine enough momentum. Thus, being swept under the rug again. I know for a fact Domestic Violence is just as brutal and sick as any other abuse, if not more. Domestic Violence can contain all three elements; sexual, mental and physical abuse, financial as well. It causes women to be co-dependent/brainwashed to the point they don’t even know they’re being controlled by a controller who doesn’t even know that he’s controlling them. Both of them are sick and if it’s not stopped, both will suffer major consequences by living in a toxic relationship.
S.D.V.S.T.S. is a logo anybody can use to remember that sometimes we have to be the voice of our loved ones and friends. What lengths will you go to, to save your daughters, sisters and mom’s life. Hashtag this, Facebook it, spread the word to the world. Father’s don’t be afraid, mothers don’t be scared and brothers grab your sister’s hand, all of us have to stand.
Stop Domestic Violence Stop The Silence
By: Tim Larson
To whoever has taken time out of there day to log on to my blog let me first say thank you. Now also let me say that you have picked the right man and let me explain why I say this. I am a true believer that two people writing to each other can make so many things happen with just a pen and paper. You see I am a very confident man but not cocky or conceited by no means. I am a man who believes in sincerity and being honest. I also am very respectful, and I do believe that everyone deserves a chance in life. So, I ask you, do you believe in giving chances? I would not be a waste of your time this you can believe. You see two people corresponding with each other can learn so much from one another such as likes, dislikes, expectations, and ambitions and so much more if only given the chance. I am not a judgmental man and I would hope that you would not be as well. We all make mistakes in life and I can honestly say I am learning from mine. So how about it, do you want to take some more time out of your day and write to me and get to know about me? Personally, I would say take the chance and then later on you will see that the chance and your time you invested was well worth it. I’ll be waiting.