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The criminal justice system wanted to smoke me. They wanted to make it painful. In November of 1998, Justice Marcy Kahn sentenced me to 25 years to life for robbery and murder. At age 19, my world went black.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t mind the pain. I deserved to hurt. Nothing was more punishing than my conscience, which I kept to myself. They threw me in a cell beneath the Manhattan Courthouse, called \u201cThe Tombs.\u201d Dead men waited to die there. I sat alone wondering if I would do the same. While thinking, I smoked a spliff.<\/p>\n
I retrieved a pinch of weed I had stashed. I then got a matchstick and striker from between my legal papers. I was all set, except for something to roll it up in. I looked at my envelope stuffed with legal papers.<\/p>\n
\u201cFuck it,\u201d I thought.<\/p>\n
I tore a piece of paper from a corner of the third page. Then I measured it to the size of a rolling paper. I worked it between my fingers to get it soft. I proceeded to roll a spliff. It was sloppy, but it would hold under fire.<\/p>\n
While licking the edges, I noticed the name \u201cSupreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.\u201d I remember my lawyers citing a case she wrote an opinion on. It was her belief that the State didn\u2019t have the legal right to execute me.<\/p>\n
I stood on the toilet under the vent. I lit the spliff. The embers of weed burned orange, red, and blue. Strange shit started happening. The words \u201cSupreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg\u201d were still legible on the elongated ash. Instead of the smoke going up the vent, it started swirling around the cell.<\/p>\n
\u201cTake two and pass, young man. You know the rules,\u201d said a feminine voice.<\/p>\n
That\u2019s what we say in Bed-Stuy Brooklyn when we smoke weed. I passed the spliff without thinking. Then I thought, \u201cWhat the fuck?\u201d I had been alone in this cell.<\/p>\n
A slim lace-gloved hand reached out. \u201cMr. Arthur, you\u2019re wasting it. Haven\u2019t you wasted enough?\u201d<\/p>\n
I hit the spliff again. The embers lit up with the words written on the ash, along with the shadowy figure. I just got 25 years to life. I was game to believe anything. But this was too much.<\/p>\n
\u201cStop fronting. Is that really you?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYep, it\u2019s me. The Notorious RBG. Now pass me the spliff, young man. Spread love. It\u2019s the Brooklyn way,\u201d she quoted from the Notorious B.I.G. song, \u201cJuicy.\u201d<\/p>\n
I passed RBG the spliff. She put it to her lips and inhaled deeply. She and the spliff became ablaze. I squinted my eyes but still saw her light. RBG played with the smoke between her lips and nostrils.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, it\u2019s just as good as when I wrote it. The weed is bullshit, but the opinion is good law,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
I went to sit on the bench. She kicked me in the shin.<\/p>\n
\u201cOuch!\u201d I yelled.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t play yourself. Only one of us belongs on the bench,\u201d she admonished me.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I wanna sit down,\u201d I pleaded.<\/p>\n
RBG pointed to the floor. \u201cThere. That\u2019s where you\u2019ve been fighting to be your entire life. Isn\u2019t it, Mr. Arthur?\u201d<\/p>\n
Defeated, I sat at her dangling crossed ankles and took the spliff. I took two pulls and passed it back. \u201cI can\u2019t do this time. It\u2019s too much,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cAin\u2019t you supposed to be some kind of tough guy from Brooklyn?\u201d she taunted.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t know my struggle. The system hates Black people. I grew up poor. My father was a crackhead. I didn\u2019t have a choice. Yeah, I\u2019m tough, but\u2026\u201d I choked.<\/p>\n
I choked because the truth was coming out.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut what? Say it. You\u2019re a whiny little punk who threw his life away. Good people fought to give you that life. You ungrateful little shit. A good man tried to save you. He\u2019s dead because of you. And all you can do is keep wasting time. You make me sick. Pass the spliff.\u201d<\/p>\n
I passed the spliff. I started to say, \u201cI didn\u2019t pull the trigger, I didn\u2019t know it would end up like this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t try to stop it either. You chose your stupid street code: Don\u2019t rat. Was your code of the hood worth it, Mr. Arthur?<\/p>\n
\u201cI had to be tough,\u201d she continued. \u201cI grew up poor, too. Being a skinny, Jewish white girl in Flatbush Brooklyn wasn\u2019t easy. I fought my way to the top against the same hateful, racist and sexist assholes that rigged the system against you. You played their game, and you let them beat you,\u201d she said, wagging her delicate finger while swirling her head from side to side.<\/p>\n RBG passed the spliff. I took a toke. I was about to say something awful. I didn\u2019t though, because I couldn\u2019t. Instead, a long guttural sound of a man-child inside the adult body of regret, remorse, anguish and defeat came out. I trembled violently. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I\u2019m so fucking sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n RBG took the spliff. She smoothed down my wavy black hair. RBG\u2019s compassion and the effects of the spliff dulled the razor-sharp edge of the truth.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, you\u2019re a sorry young man. But you\u2019re not really sorry yet. That will come later if you\u2019re sincere. You can be more if you want to. You\u2019re still alive. Tough people don\u2019t make excuses. They take the best of what they got and make it the best the world has ever seen,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n I took a pull and wondered about the future. Existing wasn\u2019t enough. That\u2019s about all I had figured out.<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t have to do it alone. I\u2019ll send you some help. You dug yourself in deep. You may never make it out. You killed a man. He believed in you. You\u2019re a writer, so write. The written word is powerful. It saved your life, didn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n It was true. My lawyers cited a U.S. Supreme Court opinion RBG wrote. It was enough to convince the Manhattan District Attorney\u2019s Office to not give me the death penalty.<\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s good people in this world that could use your help. Fight back the right way. Prove yourself. Don\u2019t screw it up this time,\u201d RBG said and slapped the back of my head.<\/p>\n I nodded in agreement, but I needed more.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s all good. Peep game. You owe a debt you can\u2019t ever repay. You got to hold that down. Justice Kahn sentenced you to 25 to life to smoke your boots. I, Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, just gave you 25 years to life to redeem yourself. Now who you rolling with? Her?\u201d RBG said, flicking her head toward the ceiling. \u201cOr me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBrooklyn holds its own!\u201d I said as my fist collided with the legendary legal-laden might of RBG\u2019s gloved fist. The force of that collision would follow me throughout the next quarter century. Instead of dying that day in the Manhattan courthouse, I chose to live. I chose to make good on my promise to RBG.<\/p>\n Corey\u00a0Devon Arthur is a writer and artist and a member of Empowerment Avenue<\/a>. His writings have been published in the\u00a0The Marshall Project, Writing Class Radio, and other venues. His artwork has been awarded, toured and featured in\u00a0Apogee Journal\u00a0and\u00a0Witness Magazine. He recently launched a one-man art exhibit titled \u201cShe Told Me To Save The Flower\u201d to honor feminism and advocate its use in the carceral state. Arthur received his Associates Degree from Nyack College. He\u2019s currently auditing college classes at John Jay Prison to College Pipeline and continuing his restorative and social justice advocacy work.<\/em><\/p>\n The post Take Two and Pass<\/a> appeared first on Cannabis Now<\/a>.<\/p>\n
The criminal justice system wanted to smoke me. They wanted to make it painful. In November of 1998, Justice Marcy Kahn sentenced me to 25 years to life for robbery and murder. At age 19, my world went black. I didn\u2019t mind the pain. I deserved to hurt. Nothing wasContinue Reading<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":577,"featured_media":79704,"comment_status":"false","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[50,17905,17906,99,17907,4534,4013,17908,17909],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/79703"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/577"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=79703"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/79703\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":79705,"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/79703\/revisions\/79705"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/79704"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=79703"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=79703"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/cannabiscultivatornews.com\/home\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=79703"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/cannabisnow.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/RBG-CoreyArthur.jpeg\")
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\nRead More: Take Two and Pass<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"