URNotAlone

Time-Sensitive - Jailed trans woman needs our support – NYC

July 16th, 2006 8:57 pm MDT

Time-Sensitive - Jailed trans woman needs our support – NYCDear friends,I am writing to ask for support in the criminal case against acommunity member. As many of you know, Mariah Lopez, a trans womanof color, and activist in the community is currently in Rikers whereshe is experiencing a miserable time. In addition, she suffered fromsevere police brutality.Mariah really needs our support in this difficult time. Heres what you can do to help:1.. Pack the Court !! community support is essential during court appearances both for Mariah's moral and also for the judge to see how important this case is !**** On MONDAY July 17 at 10:00 - MANHATTAN CRIMINAL COURT 100 CENTRE STREET - section of the court is tba (contact me directly if you plan to go) &***** ON TUESDAY JULY 18 at 10:00 - MANHATTAN CRIMINAL COURT 100 CENTRE STREET - section of the court is tba (contact me directly if you plan to go)***** SAVE THE DATE : AUGUST 4 - is Mariah's last court day – more info soon!2.. Visit Mariah in Rikers! (call SRLP to get more info)3.. Call and Write Letters to Mariah ! (Call us for the address)4.. Fundraise to get Mariah OUT !***** you don't have to be an organization to organize donations !  An individual can take charge in raising bail money to make sure that Mariah does not have to suffer in jail any longer than she already has.Show Mariah that she really can rely on her community! IF you are interested in taking on this task call me directly to talk details !Thanks Everyone for your ongoing support !Please forward this to anyone you think might be interested !Pooja GehiStaff AttorneySylvia Rivera Law Project322 8th Ave. 3rd FloorNew York , NY 10001212-337-8550 ext 116 pooja@srlp.org Here is Mariah's story: STONEWALLEDPOLICE ABUSE AND MISCONDUCT AGAINST LESBIAN, GAY,BISEXUAL AND TRANSGENDER PEOPLE IN THE U.S. Statement of Mariah LopezTransgender Activist, Survivor of Police Abuse and MisconductMy name is Mariah Lopez. I am a young, transgender person of color. I also am an activist who does street-based outreach in the West Village, where I also socialize.Let me tell you how the police often respond to this. With verbal abuse.Sexual harassment.Unwarranted arrests.Withholding food, water and medication in detention.Humiliating – and inappropriate – strip searches.Physical assaults.This is what I have endured at the hands of police and corrections officers – and not just once. What occurs is a systemic abuse of power, one that is seemingly inflicted on whim. For my friends and me, it seems that something as inconsequential as an officer’s mood can dictate whether we spend time in jail.I have been arrested a number of times in the West Village – including as recently as three months ago – always for solicitation, or loitering with intent to solicit. Most of the time I plead “guilty.” When you’re young, aren’t told your full legal options, have no bail money and face abuse, what do you do? You plead “guilty,” just to get everything over with as quickly as possible. Sometimes that’s not fast enough.Here’s an example. In April of last year, I was walking in the West Village with friends. Several undercover detectives approached us and told me to leave the vicinity immediately or I would be subject to arrest and prosecution. I refused to comply, as I had the right to be there. Less than two hours later I was arrested and charged with “loitering with the intent” of prostitution. At the 6th precinct, I was verbally abused and forced to disclose my “real” gender, though my ID clearly states that I am female. I requested that officers refer to me with female pronouns, which is my legal right under the New York City Human Rights Law. They continued to abuse, harass and degrade me, referring to me as “it,” “he/she” and calling me by male names rather than my own.Later I was arraigned; I pled “guilty” and was sentenced to ten days (of which I served seven). Upon intake at Rikers Island, I was told that I couldn’t get alternative housing based on my gender identity, which would have provided safety from other inmates (all of whom were male). I had to undergo an embarrassing and degrading strip search and was badgered about the size of my genitalia and for having breasts. Next a nurse examined me in an open, clinic-based setting with no regard for patient confidentiality, where she surmised out loud that I must be HIV positive or have AIDS. I was placed in a cell for several hours with no food, water or access to a bathroom. I brought this to the attention of the corrections officer; in exchange, the officer assaulted me, leaving me with severe bruising and abrasions. His justification? Claiming that I was being disruptive, all because I demanded my basic rights.I was then transferred into a dorm with other inmates, which led to a week of physical and emotional abuse, as well as sexual harassment, at the hands of inmates and corrections officers alike. The inmates ordered me not to use the open showers when they did; to avoid trouble and for privacy reasons I requested to shower early in the morning or late at night. Corrections officers denied this request. They also refused to intervene when the inmates repeatedly threw hard objects at me – even after an object slammed into my face while I was reporting the incident. Finally a more responsible area captain took note of my bruises, and I was moved to alternative housing – just one day before my release, too late to offer relief from what I had been through. According to her, this housing had been available all along.I am here today because no human being deserves this treatment. I am here today because what happens in New York is replicated in Los Angeles and cities and towns across this country. I am here today because one more LGBT person suffering police abuse is one person too many. I know for many it is easier to give in than to struggle. I’ve been there. Sometimes you feel so disenfranchised, so damaged by constant rejection, abuse and scorn, that you don’t realize there is power behind your voice -- or that you are worth the fight. But I am evidence of that power, and we are all worth the fight. Others have voices as big as mine, as loud as mine and as effective as mine. Change can happen, sometimes with less effort than people realize. The launch of this report will help, especially if we join forces to insist upon a society where police protect all human beings. We cannot rest until that time comes. Thank you.