Assata: An Autobiography

by Assata Shakur

  One day i woke up and could hardly move. I was sick as a dog and dizzy to boot. I got up for a minute, then sank back down on the cot, holding onto it for dear life. They called the prison doctor. I repeated the symptoms again, and this time he ordered some tests. He asked for a urine specimen. I was sure he had sent for a pregnancy test. I waited a few days and heard nothing. Then the nurse came and asked me for more urine. I was certain this meant the pregnancy test was positive and they were retesting just to be sure. I gave her the urine sample and waited.

  When the doctor called me to his office, i knew he was going to tell me i was pregnant. Instead, he was smug and acted really on the stupid side. He kept making snide little remarks and i could tell he was trying to make fun of me. I asked him what was wrong with me and he repeated the same old stuff about a bowel disorder. Then he asked me some questions about my sex life.

  "Ask your momma about her sex life," i said and went out of his office, slamming the door. Later that day, Ray Brown and Evelyn came to see me. Ray was in a jovial mood, laughing his head off.

  "Well, you've really done it this time. I don't know what we’re going to do with you. His honor is going to give you a strong reprimand for getting pregnant during his trial."

  "You mean i'm really pregnant?”

  "It was in the doctor's report to the judge. Didn't you know?"

  "No," i told him. "I was just in that slimy bastard's office this morning and he told me that i had something wrong with my intestines."

  "He's pulling your leg," Ray said. "They did two or three pregnancy tests on you and they all came back positive. You're pregnant, all right. I can't believe it."

  Evelyn was in a state of shock. "It's something," she said. Then she looked into space for a long time. "It's something."

  "Judge Bachman's having a fit," Ray said. "I hear the FBI is going to conduct an investigation to determine how you got pregnant. "

  "Well, they better not try to come 'round me asking no questions," i told them. "I'll tell them that this baby was sent by the Black creator to liberate Black people. I'll tell 'em that this baby is the new Black messiah, conceived in a holy way, come to lead our people to freedom and justice and to create a new Black nation."

  Sundiata and McKinney had joined us. Sundiata was elated. He couldn't get over it. He sat there grinning and slapping his knee. "I think it's beautiful," he kept saying. "I think it's absolutely beautiful." Everyone was in a jubilant mood. I was glad. I hadn't known how they would react.

  "It's amazing," Evelyn said. "Out of all this misery a new life is conceived."

  I was caught up in the mood, but i couldn't wait to get off alone in my cell to think about this. What had seemed like a remote dream was coming true. A baby. My mind was jumping and dancing.

  I spent the next few days in a virtual daze. A joyous daze. A person was inside of me. Someone who was going to grow up to walk and talk, to love and laugh. To me it was the miracle of all miracles. And deeply spiritual. The odds against this baby being conceived were so great it boggled my mind. And yet it was happen ing. It seemed so right, so beautiful, in surroundings that were so ugly. I was filled with emotion. Already, i was deeply in love with this child. Already, i talked to it and worried about it and wondered how it was feeling and what it was thinking. I would lie in my cell wondering about his or her life, wondering what kind of life it would have. What kind of people it would love, what kind of values it would have, and what it would think of all the madness that would surround it. Sometimes i felt so helplessly protective, wondering when my baby would be called nigger for the first time, wondering when the full horror and degradation of being Black in amerika would descend on my baby. How many wolves hid behind the bushes to eat my child?

  But there were so many happy things that i thought about, too. I wondered when would be the first time my child would sit down and seriously appreciate the glory of a sunset and marvel at the wonders of nature. Or when he or she would smack lips and lick fingers over a sweet potato pie, or kiss strawberries and drink lemonade. It has always intrigued me how the world can be so beautiful and so ugly at the same time. I wanted, with all my being, for my baby to experience the many types and sides of love and friendship and to know and understand selflessness and generosity, struggle and sacrifice, honesty, courage, and so many of the sentiments that have given me strength and have made my life worth living. In these days, i was in such a state of sensitivity and thought that i barely noticed what was going on around me.

  The next time my mother came to see me, my sister was with her. I was so happy to see them both. When i say "see," it is something of an overstatement, because in morristown jail there are little windows that you and your visitors peek through, and there are little holes through which you are supposed to talk, but to make yourself heard you are obliged to shout.

  "Honey, you look pale," my mother shouted.

  "Mommy, i'm pregnant.”

  "What is it, honey?”

  "I'm pregnant, Mommy."

  My mother smiled blandly. I repeated myself and she began to laugh. "How many months are you?"

  "No, seriously, Mommy, i'm pregnant."

  "Well, so am I," my mother said, this time laughing heartily. "I think it was my hysterectomy that caused it."

  "No, Mommy," i pleaded. "You don't understand. I'm pregnant. I'm not joking."

  "Who's joking, honey? Pregnancy is a serious matter," she said, trying to keep a straight face, "especially when the baby is born under immaculate conception and god is the father." She and my sister were having a giggling fit. "What are you going to name the baby?" my sister added. "Jesus?"

  They just carried on. The more i insisted i was pregnant, the more they laughed and cracked jokes. But, finally, my mother stopped laughing.

  "Are you really pregnant?"

  I told her that it happened in the kourt and that Kamau was the father.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Actually, kind of funny," i told her. "I can barely move and i'm just so tired."

  In the visiting room on the prisoners' side, there were no chairs, so you had to stand up and talk. I was so tired, i just couldn't stand any longer. I sat down on the floor, leaning on the wall behind me so that they could see me. I couldn't see them, but we shouted to each other until the visit was over. I went up to my cell after the visit ended and immediately fell out. My mother went to the warden to complain about their refusal to provide chairs.

  The next day Evelyn came to see me. "Your mother called me last night all the way from Morristown, as soon as she left you. She was worried to death that, with all you've been through, you'd finally been driven crazy. I told her not to worry, that you are, in fact, pregnant. I think she's in a state of shock. So's your sister. It's all over the papers. I brought them for you."

  I couldn't believe it. Sure enough, there were the articles. The one in the New York Daily News, i remember, was especially sordid. All of the papers speculated about who the father was and how i had managed to become pregnant in jail. One of them hinted that a prison guard was the father.

  "I'm sick, Auntie, i feel awful."

  "Well, that's what happens when you're pregnant. You get morning sickness and all sorts of other strange ailments. It's only normal."

  "Maybe you're right, but i'm having these pains down here," i told her, pointing to where the pains were. "And i can barely stand up. "

  She told me to go see the doctor and i told her how the doctor had acted.

  "Well, go see him anyway, and have him examine you thoroughly. Meanwhile, I'll try to have you seen by a private gynecologist as soon as possible. I'll probably have to go to court."

  She promised that she would do all that she could to get an outside doctor, and i went upstairs to see the jail doctor.

  "Why did you lie to me and tell me all that junk about a bowel disorder?" was the first thing i asked him.

  "Well, you lied. I just figured I'd get back at you. Anyway, you found out, like I knew you wou
ld."

  I told him about my pains and he examined me. "What's wrong?" i asked, anxiously.

  "There's a chance you're threatening to abort."

  "What?" i practically screamed.

  "There's a chance that you're going to abort.”

  "I don't want no abortion," i cried out.

  "It's probably the best course you could take now, and I’d recommend it. But that's not what I was talking about. I said that there was a chance you could spontaneously abort, have a miscarriage. "

  "Oh no!" i moaned. "What are you going to do?"

  "Relax. It's probably nothing serious. It's nothing much to worry about."

  "What do you mean, nothing much to worry about. I want this baby."

  "Well, I can't force you to do anything, but my advice is to have an abortion. It will be better for you and for everyone else."

  "I don't want nobody's abortion. But what are you going to do about this miscarriage thing? Isn't there something you can give me to keep me from having a miscarriage? Isn't there something that i can take to make sure i don't lose this baby?"

  "No. There's nothing I can do now. We have to wait and see what happens."

  "What do you mean, wait and see what happens? If i have a miscarriage, then it will be too late. Can't you call a gynecologist?"

  "No. There's nothing I can do right now.”

  "You mean there's nothing you will do right now, don't you?"

  "Take it any way you want to.”

  "Won't you at least call a gynecologist in to see me? You're not a specialist in this area.”

  "I don't need you to tell me what my specialties are," he said angrily. "It would be best for everybody concerned if you have an abortion, no matter which way you have it."

  "Just who is everybody concerned?"

  "Don't you worry about it. My advice to you is that you should go to your cell and lie down. Just lie down and rest your mind. Just lie down and stay off your feet. And if you go to the bathroom and see a lump in the toilet, don't flush it. It's your baby."

  I raced out of his office and, when i got to my cell, i lay on the cot crying. I was worried to death. As far as i could see, they were out to kill my baby. I couldn't lose this baby now, not now. It was meant to be; this baby was our hope. Our hope for the future. I tried to calm myself. I didn't want the baby to feel my anguish. Finally, i fell asleep.

  The next morning, i waited anxiously for Evelyn and Ray Brown. Ray came first. I told him what had happened.

  "Please," i begged, "get a doctor we can trust to see me today."

  "I'll try to get one as soon as I can," Ray assured me. "I'll have to make some phone calls and then I've got to talk to the judge. He's having a fit, you know. He wants to resume the trial today. Don't worry, everything is going to be all right."

  Ray and Evelyn came back in about an hour. "Don't worry," they told me, "the trial has been postponed until there is a report from our doctor. The judge has permitted you to be examined by your own gynecologist, and he's coming this afternoon, so cheer up." They did their best to take my mind off everything and to make me feel better. That day i felt worse than ever before.

  "Is the doctor Black?"

  "No, he's a Ku Klux Klan doctor," Ray Brown joked. I felt like my insides were going to drop out on the floor at any minute. Ray went outside to meet the doctor and came back followed by a tall, brown-skinned man. The man sure as hell didn't look like no doctor. He looked like Mr. Superfly himself. He had on a long fur coat, a jumpsuit, and platform shoes. But when i looked into his face, i was reassured. He was kind and very self-assured. He was gentle when he examined me and i was truly grateful. He asked a whole lot of questions in a careful, painstaking manner. I was really impressed.

  "Would you tell me your name again?" i asked him, ashamed that i had forgotten it.

  "Sure. That's an easy order. Ernest Wyman Garrett." He practiced in Newark and there was an air of Newark about him. I liked him instantly. He was one of those rare breed of Black professionals who haven't lost contact with the masses of Black people. He didn't have one trace of the affected bourgie speech and mannerisms that are so popular among the Black middle class.

  I waited nervously for the verdict. "There's no doubt about it. You're pregnant. But I found blood in the vaginal canal, which can be a sign that something is wrong. There's a possibility that you are threatening to abort. This doesn't mean that you are going to have a miscarriage. The chances are good that you won't. The odds and medical statistics are in your favor.

  He explained the different possibilities and the treatment he was prescribing. I asked a million questions and, when he left, felt a whole lot better, just knowing there was someone i could trust taking care of me and the baby.

  The days that followed are blurry in my mind. Most of the time i slept. The warden and the sheriff and the powers that were didn't like the idea of my having my own doctor, though. In their minds, the butcher, jailhouse-quackhouse doctor was good enough for me. And the fact that Dr. Garrett was Black infuriated them. They refused to let him examine me unless a white doctor, hired by the state, was present, and for the report to the judge, the white doctor had to examine me. Fortunately, he agreed with my doctor's findings. There was a lot of activity going on around me that I didn't understand. I was too out of it to try. I could see, though, that Evelyn and Ray were worried. I wanted to help them, to get to the bottom of what was happening, but i just didn't have the energy.

  About two days after his first visit, Dr. Garrett came to visit me. When he finished examining me, he said, "Assata, I don't want to worry you, but I think you should be hospitalized. It's nothing serious, strictly a precautionary measure. You're in no condition to proceed with a trial. You need a few weeks of complete bedrest. There is a possibility the judge will try to push you into that trial right away, without regard for your medical condition. Assata, there is no way we are going to let that happen. I am prepared to fight all the way for your right as a human being to receive decent medical care and for your baby to be born healthy. I'm doing the same for you as I would for any other patient. You should be hospitalized. There isn't a responsible doctor in the world who wouldn't agree with that opinion. And I'm prepared to testify in any court that to deny you proper medical care would be tantamount to committing murder. I will be going, in a very short time, to give a medical report about your condition to the judge. I will do my best to convince him of the seriousness of this matter. I think he'll listen to reason. I'm sure the judge will go along with the findings of two board-certified gynecologists. But if worse comes to worst, and the judge denies our motion, I will see to it personally that this j ail and the courtroom are surrounded by the right-to-life people by tomorrow morning."

  I was too shot out to say much more than thank you. I was scared to death for my baby, but i knew that everything that could be done was being done and that was a load off my mind. I got dressed and waited for them to come and take me to kourt. I wanted to hear what was going on. When they didn't come for me, i became worried. What was going on? Why weren't they bringing me to kourt? Why were they taking so long? What were they going to do? Were they going to try to make me go to trial like this? What were they planning to do?

  Evelyn and Ray came in strutting and beaming. I knew every thing was going to be all right. "What happened? Why didn't they bring me to kourt?"

  "You're too sick to go to court." Evelyn laughed. "Haven't you heard that they don't let pregnant women into court? They figure it's a disease and are afraid everybody will catch it. We felt it was much better for you not to be moved. It went fine. They'll be taking you to a hospital as soon as they can make the arrangements. Dr. Garrett did a great job. After that speech, there was no way the judge was gonna force you to go to trial in your condition. The trial has been severed and Sundiata will go on with the trial alone."

  "What?" i exclaimed. "But we had agreed that we would be tried together. Why can't they wait until i'm better?"

  "N
ow, Assata, you know they're not gonna wait for you to have your baby to try Sundiata. They claim that being here in Morristown is costing them a fortune."

  "It will be cheaper to try us together," i said. "Well, can't i at least see Sundiata and say good-bye to him?"

  "We'll try," they said, "but we doubt if there will be time or if the sheriff will consent to it."

  "I'm going to miss Sundiata.”

  "Yes. We know.”

  Later they put me on a stretcher and wheeled me into an ambulance. "Don't worry," i told the baby, "you're gonna be all right. “

  LOVE

  Love is contraband in Hell,

  cause love is an acid

  that eats away bars.

  But you, me, and tomorrow

  hold hands and make vows

  that struggle will multiply.

  The hacksaw has two blades.

  The shotgun has two barrels.

  We are pregnant with freedom.

  We are a conspiracy.

  Chapter 8

  After the Village, i lived with Evelyn on 80th Street between Amsterdam and Columbus in Manhattan. She had a garden apartment in a brownstone. Nothing grew in the garden but weeds, and it was where our neighbors threw their garbage. The apartment was one big room that we used for sleeping, eating, and living; it had a kitchen and a bathroom with an old-fashioned toilet up on a plat form and an overhead tank so that you had to pull on a little chain to flush it. Evelyn always referred to it as the dump. She had it fixed up nicely, but it was just too small for two people, especially if one of them was me. I was a slob, and Evelyn went to great pains to train me in neatness. In a small place like that, when just a few things are out of place it looks like a hurricane passed through. And many times after a long day's work, poor Evelyn would be greeted with a hurricane, a tornado, and an earthquake at the same time. Gradually, i learned to keep things in something vaguely resembling order.

  The neighborhood, for me, was exciting, full of character and different flavors. Central Park and Riverside Park were nearby, and i immediately fell in love with both of them. Then, also, there were plenty of museums nearby; i spent hour upon hour in the Museum of Natural History and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They were free then, and full of fascinating things. There were all kinds of stores for me to explore and examine, even though most of the time i didn't have any money. I was delighted with it all. And it was my first clear glimpse of the hierarchy of amerikan society.