Cecily McMillan Leaves Prison Behind, But Won’t Forget Fellow Inmates
McMillan’s time in Rikers may have taken a toll, but it has not broken her. She describes the many indignities there as struggles endured in solidarity with comrades, not as personal complaints. She says that before Rikers, she didn’t know that placing your hands on your hips expressed defiance. In Rikers, she says, you have to keep your head down, your hands behind your back–postures of compliance, passivity. She sleeps in a dorm room with forty other women. There are invasive searches of your personal items, your body. Her phone calls are recorded. Contrary to the notion of inmates lazing about watching the clock tick, prison is endless activity, endless lines—the movieBrazil “on steroids,” she says.
Still, her mind isn’t dulled or her spirit crushed. She is thinking, writing, planning, talking.