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New York Times
14-02-2025
- Politics
- New York Times
‘The Strike': When Collective Action Leads to Prison Reform
The word 'solidarity' — basically, agreement between and support for members of a group — is not hard to define. But it can be hard to wrap your mind around, in a world more oriented toward personal development and individual success than the common good. People who are willing to sacrifice their own freedoms or bodily security for someone else are celebrated in our culture, but also viewed with a bit of suspicion. What game are you really playing? What do you actually stand to gain? 'The Strike' (on the PBS app and PBS YouTube channel), directed by JoeBill Muñoz and Lucas Guilkey, is on its surface a documentary about the practice of solitary confinement in America. It centers on a series of hunger strikes organized by incarcerated men at California's Pelican Bay State Prison, beginning in 2011, in protest of conditions in highest-security prisons. This included protracted periods of isolation for individuals suspected of being in gangs, during which, inmates said, they were given inadequate food, denied meaningful contact with the outside world and held for periods that could last for decades. (Under the 'Mandela Rules,' the U.N.'s standard for solitary confinement is 15 days; more time is regarded as a form of torture.) The inmates also objected to a policy requiring them to 'debrief' — that is, to provide information about gangs to the authorities — in order to be released from solitary. Some of the formerly incarcerated in the film say they were identified as gang members simply because of the materials they read, or because of their race, without proof. And once you were in solitary, it was almost impossible to get out. 'The Strike' focuses on a number of former inmates who spent prolonged periods in solitary and participated in the 2011 hunger strikes. Two years later, with little to no change occurring, inmates called for another strike — and at the start, nearly 29,000 inmates refused food, across two-thirds of the 33 California prisons and four private out-of-state prisons holding California inmates. The 2013 strike lasted for two months, and by the end 100 prisoners were still refusing food. Among the remarkable stories told in 'The Strike' is how incarcerated people in isolation could organize a strike in the first place, as well as the men's' stories of life inside, and later outside, the walls of Pelican Bay. One technique involved emptying the water from the toilets in their cells, then shouting through the commode, where they could be heard by other inmates. But it's hard to ignore the other story here, one that illustrates both the meaning and power of solidarity. For the strike organizers, this was an obvious necessity almost from the start, in 2011. They were men, the documentary participants explain, who had been taught to hate one another all their lives — rivals from different neighborhoods, different ethnic groups, people with warring loyalties. Collective action can only work when the actors are united — a big reason the authorities attempted to divide the prisoners, promising unlimited food to whoever would break the strike. So, the leaders decided to sign a non-hostility pact — a 'show of force,' one man calls it, that caught the Department of Corrections off guard. The strike leaders discovered they were more alike than they'd ever realized, and that their strength would come from working together toward a common goal. Similarly, when the 2013 strikes were called, many of the inmates were not in the kind of prison that the original Pelican Bay organizers lived in. Yet they recognized the power of a broad action. Non-incarcerated people noticed and took part as well. 'The Strike' shows news footage of marching protesters demanding change. Change happens slowly. There's no central source of information about the number of U.S. prisoners held in solitary confinement, but it's far more than most of us realize. The striking prisoners had an effect, but they didn't change the entire system. Yet what 'The Strike' makes clear is that their collective action didn't just make an incremental step toward better conditions for prisoners. In the end, it changed the way they saw the world, too.
Yahoo
06-02-2025
- Yahoo
A mass hunger strike transformed solitary confinement in California prisons. This documentary captures the fight
In 2013, nearly 4,000 California inmates in long-term solitary confinement (for decades, in some cases) went on what would become a months-long hunger strike. The collective action was designed to get the attention of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation and protest the conditions of those in extended solitary confinement. At the negotiating table, the corrections department was met by a united front of inmates who, understanding the injustice of their dire circumstances, decided they would try to change the very policies that had left them 'buried' in concrete cells. 'The Strike,' which premiered on PBS' 'Independent Lens' on Monday and is currently available on the PBS app and PBS' YouTube channel, chronicles that feat of activist organizing. In the hands of filmmakers JoeBill Muñoz and Lucas Guilkey, the documentary shines a spotlight on the men who helped organize and mobilize their fellow inmates. But it is also a living record of the recent history of the carceral system in the U.S. in general and in California in particular. 'We wanted to trace the arc of the rise of mass incarceration on a deeply personal, intimate level,' said Guilkey. But also, this is not an individual story. It's a story of collective solidarity. And it's a story of organizing across racial lines.' As title cards inform viewers at the start of the film, Pelican Bay State Prison's Security Housing Unit once held hundreds of inmates for more than a decade. Now, it's nearly empty. The film tells the story of how the 2013 hunger strike helped make that happen. Former inmates such as Jack L. Morris (a Chicano man who served 40 years in prison, with more than 30 spent in solitary confinement) and Michael Saavedra (who served close to 20 years, many of them in solitary) share their painful experiences on camera. Through them, 'The Strike' offers unprecedented insight into what led these California inmates to organize the largest prison hunger strike in U.S. history. With limited access to their families, the outside world and even one another, Morris, Saavedra and other Pelican Bay inmates found increasingly creative ways to connect with those they couldn't see face to face. Those included notes in library books and conversations had over toilets and vents. 'We all actively, collectively, did what we did,' Morris says. 'But in reality, we were siloed from others. We didn't know what was taking place. I just had to believe that what I was doing, others were doing. And seeing it on the film, it inspired me. But it disappointed me, too. Because I couldn't do as much as I saw many others do.' For his wife, Dolores Canales, co-founder of the California Families Against Solitary Confinement, the film offers a chance to address the rhetoric pushing for solitary confinement in the first place. 'The narrative was: These are the worst of the worst,' she says. ''We are keeping you safe. We're keeping the guards safe. Everybody's safe because we're doing this.' But I feel this film contradicts that narrative and reaches the very depth of humanity.' Morris and Saavedra share how dehumanizing it felt to hear the rhetoric while imprisoned. They were among the men (many of them quite young when they first entered the carceral system) branded as violent gang members. That was often enough to strip them of the scant freedoms they were afforded in prison, decisions that were made not by judges but by corrections administrators, and that were all too difficult to undo. 'I hope that the film will help the general audience — the people outside — to really see that people can change and grow,' Saavedra, who has been pursuing a law degree since his release, says. 'I'm hoping it gives audiences a different outlook upon us. And not just us people. But then also looking deeper at the system. This is what your system does. This is what the California Department of Corrections does to people.' The Pelican Bay State Prison, which opened in 1989, served as a limit case for the practice of solitary confinement. As the documentary outlines, the building of that 'state-of-the-art" penitentiary in the middle of the redwood forest in the northernmost part of California helped dehumanize those housed within its walls. They were kept away from their loved ones, but also from public scrutiny. 'This is mostly men — Latino, Chicano, men from Los Angeles, mostly — who are on the Oregon border in this windowless, concrete fortress cell, in this massive institution designed to hold over a thousand people in solitary confinement,' Guilkey explains. Such context makes the hunger strike all the more remarkable. And it's what made producing 'The Strike' so challenging in the first place. 'It's a protest that happens inside the most high-security prison you can imagine,' Muñoz says. 'How do you visually piece this together? How do you tell this story?' Mostly, it required getting recently released inmates such as Saavedra and Morris to share their experiences, and then piecing their stories together with archival footage for historical context. But viewers of 'The Strike' also get to witness a tense meeting between the corrections department and the coalition of leaders organizing the hunger strike. Guilkey and Muñoz wouldn't disclose how they got that secretly-shot footage, but it's an explosive moment when those inmates present their requests calmly. They explain they have little to lose: What else would the corrections department do? 'When we think of the prison system, we usually think of power belonging to the administrators,' Muñoz adds. 'To the wardens. To the folks who decide the policies. To the jailers. And what was extraordinary about these protests, but especially this footage, was that it was all flipped on its head. Now, this collection of incarcerated guys have come together and represented a collective of power. The whole system was on its head.' The documentary may be squarely centered on the fight to abolish solitary confinement as it exists and is enforced right now. But for its filmmakers, 'The Strike' offers a broader road map for how to face the current political landscape. 'This is multiracial, working-class, collective solidarity,' as Guilkey puts it. 'This is social movement organizing and what it takes to do collective direct action to effect material change in your lives. This shows how to fight authoritarian power.' And as 'The Strike' shows, that takes work; one person at a time. 'Activism is not necessarily having a thousand people with you immediately,' Morris says, summing up the film's message. 'It's taking the steps by yourself and bringing people as you move along.' Get our Latinx Files newsletter for stories that capture the complexity of our communities. This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.
Los Angeles Times
06-02-2025
- Los Angeles Times
A mass hunger strike transformed solitary confinement in California prisons. This documentary captures the fight
In 2013, nearly 4,000 California inmates in long-term solitary confinement (for decades, in some cases) went on what would become a months-long hunger strike. The collective action was designed to get the attention of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation and protest the conditions of those in extended solitary confinement. At the negotiating table, the corrections department was met by a united front of inmates who, understanding the injustice of their dire circumstances, decided they would try to change the very policies that had left them 'buried' in concrete cells. 'The Strike,' which premiered on PBS' 'Independent Lens' on Monday and is currently available on the PBS app and PBS' YouTube channel, chronicles that feat of activist organizing. In the hands of filmmakers JoeBill Muñoz and Lucas Guilkey, the documentary shines a spotlight on the men who helped organize and mobilize their fellow inmates. But it is also a living record of the recent history of the carceral system in the U.S. in general and in California in particular. 'We wanted to trace the arc of the rise of mass incarceration on a deeply personal, intimate level,' said Guilkey. But also, this is not an individual story. It's a story of collective solidarity. And it's a story of organizing across racial lines.' As title cards inform viewers at the start of the film, Pelican Bay State Prison's Security Housing Unit once held hundreds of inmates for more than a decade. Now, it's nearly empty. The film tells the story of how the 2013 hunger strike helped make that happen. Former inmates such as Jack L. Morris (a Chicano man who served 40 years in prison, with more than 30 spent in solitary confinement) and Michael Saavedra (who served close to 20 years, many of them in solitary) share their painful experiences on camera. Through them, 'The Strike' offers unprecedented insight into what led these California inmates to organize the largest prison hunger strike in U.S. history. With limited access to their families, the outside world and even one another, Morris, Saavedra and other Pelican Bay inmates found increasingly creative ways to connect with those they couldn't see face to face. Those included notes in library books and conversations had over toilets and vents. 'We all actively, collectively, did what we did,' Morris says. 'But in reality, we were siloed from others. We didn't know what was taking place. I just had to believe that what I was doing, others were doing. And seeing it on the film, it inspired me. But it disappointed me, too. Because I couldn't do as much as I saw many others do.' For his wife, Dolores Canales, co-founder of the California Families Against Solitary Confinement, the film offers a chance to address the rhetoric pushing for solitary confinement in the first place. 'The narrative was: These are the worst of the worst,' she says. ''We are keeping you safe. We're keeping the guards safe. Everybody's safe because we're doing this.' But I feel this film contradicts that narrative and reaches the very depth of humanity.' Morris and Saavedra share how dehumanizing it felt to hear the rhetoric while imprisoned. They were among the men (many of them quite young when they first entered the carceral system) branded as violent gang members. That was often enough to strip them of the scant freedoms they were afforded in prison, decisions that were made not by judges but by corrections administrators, and that were all too difficult to undo. 'I hope that the film will help the general audience — the people outside — to really see that people can change and grow,' Saavedra, who has been pursuing a law degree since his release, says. 'I'm hoping it gives audiences a different outlook upon us. And not just us people. But then also looking deeper at the system. This is what your system does. This is what the California Department of Corrections does to people.' The Pelican Bay State Prison, which opened in 1989, served as a limit case for the practice of solitary confinement. As the documentary outlines, the building of that 'state-of-the-art' penitentiary in the middle of the redwood forest in the northernmost part of California helped dehumanize those housed within its walls. They were kept away from their loved ones, but also from public scrutiny. 'This is mostly men — Latino, Chicano, men from Los Angeles, mostly — who are on the Oregon border in this windowless, concrete fortress cell, in this massive institution designed to hold over a thousand people in solitary confinement,' Guilkey explains. Such context makes the hunger strike all the more remarkable. And it's what made producing 'The Strike' so challenging in the first place. 'It's a protest that happens inside the most high-security prison you can imagine,' Muñoz says. 'How do you visually piece this together? How do you tell this story?' Mostly, it required getting recently released inmates such as Saavedra and Morris to share their experiences, and then piecing their stories together with archival footage for historical context. But viewers of 'The Strike' also get to witness a tense meeting between the corrections department and the coalition of leaders organizing the hunger strike. Guilkey and Muñoz wouldn't disclose how they got that secretly-shot footage, but it's an explosive moment when those inmates present their requests calmly. They explain they have little to lose: What else would the corrections department do? 'When we think of the prison system, we usually think of power belonging to the administrators,' Muñoz adds. 'To the wardens. To the folks who decide the policies. To the jailers. And what was extraordinary about these protests, but especially this footage, was that it was all flipped on its head. Now, this collection of incarcerated guys have come together and represented a collective of power. The whole system was on its head.' The documentary may be squarely centered on the fight to abolish solitary confinement as it exists and is enforced right now. But for its filmmakers, 'The Strike' offers a broader road map for how to face the current political landscape. 'This is multiracial, working-class, collective solidarity,' as Guilkey puts it. 'This is social movement organizing and what it takes to do collective direct action to effect material change in your lives. This shows how to fight authoritarian power.' And as 'The Strike' shows, that takes work; one person at a time. 'Activism is not necessarily having a thousand people with you immediately,' Morris says, summing up the film's message. 'It's taking the steps by yourself and bringing people as you move along.'
