Why African-American Women Participated in or Resulted to Crime

    There were many reasons Black women committed crimes in the past. The biggest one was for socioeconomic reasons, especially in the early 20th century. Whether Black women received an education or not, it rarely increased their chances of getting hired in positions other than menial labor. They faced class, gender, race discrimination and were marginalized from the work industry. Participation in crime often allowed women to escape domestic work. The various crimes committed were often ones that presented money quickly and efficiently. This flow of money came in amounts big enough for women to establish and operate their own businesses. Many of these women used their ownership of establishments to pass employment on to other Black Women. For them it wasn't a matter of if what they were doing was a crime or not. It was a method of survival.

Various Crimes Black Women Were Involved In:

[Instead of defining these, we described them as if we were the women committing these crimes.]


PANTOTING- "For me it was about takin wateva I cud get my hands on. And bringin it all back to mah family. I got 6 kids and a husband, includin me thas 8 moufs ta feed!! Eight!!. I works hard for massa and that horrible wife of his. Today she screamed at me to reclean the kitchen flo, afta Id done already tidied the entire kitchen and was well on my way in ta fixin dinner fa her and the chilrens! As long as mah work continue to go unappreciated and she treat me like I'm ona dem animals on the farm insteada perons. I'ma take what I need. NO I'ma take what I WANT!!..And today it was leftovas from dinner, pots ta heat em' up in, and a sheet to keep my babies warm."


DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY- "We all workin for the same cause, all the same skin color and the same gender. So when a group of us get together to decide to go on strike, and ONLY do domestic work for the set price we've decided on; we ask you to join and you say NO?!! HMMPH... just be prepared for the consequences."


POISONING FOOD- "I've grown tired, and when i say tired i don't just mean literally. I mean PHYSICALLY and MENTALLY!. The things about these white folks, no scuse me the thing about these white MEN is that they will never be wrong. There's always an excuse or a reason to justify every wrong inhumane action they do to us. He took something from me. Everyday since he first bought me and so I decided to take the only thing I could from him, without getting retaliated against...LIFE. Come dinnertime I made him a cake with a special surprise."


SPEAKEASIES- "This prohibition stuff is messin up my operation and my money.  How you gon' tell me I cant sell alcohol in my business? Ha! Im still gonna do it.  Just gotta keep it a secret."


NUMEROLOGIST- "What I do might be a crime to the law but all Im tryna do is help these people.  They pay me to tell them their future.  It's a win, win.  They win knowledge. I win money.  Times are hard."


PROSTITUTE- "Im not proud but it brings money to the table.  Ive been gawked at and poked and touched and made fun of by whites who never seen a body like mines.  Only option I have is to sell my body, the very same thing that separates me from them. You'd be surprise how them same white men who rape us, will pay me just to watch me dance."

Odessa Madre

“You say was it worth it? Child, you wonder does crime pay? I’ll tell you, yes. It pays a helluva lot of money. And money is something. I don’t care who you are, when you got money you can get a lot of doors open because there’s always some larcenous heart who’s gonna listen to you. And when you show ‘em that money . . . if you got a wad, honey, they’ll suck up to ya like you was a Tootsie Roll.”-Queen of D.C.

Numbers Queen: Stephanie St.Clair

[The following is a snippet of a conversation  of St.Clair telling her story of her younger days.]

"Look. I was 26 when I first moved to Harlem back in 1912.  Ten years later, I took $10,000 of my own money and started my establishment.  Around this time, the Jews and Italians were running the clubs and speakeasies and all that for the whites only.  Then dont forget, Schultz controlled all liquor during this prohibition mess that was going on so there was no need or space for blacks, Me, to try and interfere.  With that being said, I decided to get into the numbers game.  All I had to do was set up a spot with my own bookies and runners and have people place their bets.  Illegal or not, I saw a market no one had tapped into and being the ambitious woman I am, I took advantage.  Getting caught was something I would have to deal with.  My first numbers tavern was a success.  I had people placing bets with my bookies and had runners doing the dirty work.  The money I brought in off my first tavern gave me plenty of opportunity to open more and more taverns.  Now by this point, I done gained my respect from the neighborhoods in Harlem, Manhatten.  They even started calling me Queenie and Madam. (chuckles)  Child I tell you. For a woman, a black woman at that, and being the number one numbers "queen", I was doing alot.  Everything was good, running smooth. Little problems here and there with some employees being sneaky and people being disrespectful but that came with the game.  The real problems came when I got myself caught up in this gang called the 40 Thieves.   Being that it was all whites in it and running it, I caused a little stir when I got involved.  The police used to harass me all the time, coming in my businesses and messing things up. So I complained and when the police ignored me, remember they were being paid by the mobsters, I ran ads in the local newspapers. (laughs) I sure did! I told whoever would read my ads what the police were about. I even told them about the bribes and stuff the senior police officers would take under the table.  I didnt think anyone read them until I got arrested on some fake charges. They just wanted to shut me up.  Too bad it backfired on them.  I ended up going to court and telling the judge about kickbacks they took from me and had like 13 of the police officers arrested.  

(shakes head) I did alot in my younger days."

Assata Shakur and Angela Davis

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNNXbeeAcww

(Short film clip we made of Assata and Angela)


"My name is Assata ("she who struggles") Shakur ("the thankful one"), and I am a 20th century escaped slave. Because of  government persecution, I was left with no other choice than to flee from the political repression, racism and violence that dominate the US government's policy towards people of color. I am an ex political prisoner, and I have been living in exile in Cuba since 1984. I have been a political activist most of my life, and although the U.S. government has done everything in its power to criminalize me, I am not a criminal, nor have I ever been one. In the 1960s, I participated in various struggles: the black liberation movement, the student rights movement, and the movement to end the war in Vietnam. I  joined the Black Panther Party. By 1969 the Black Panther Party had become the number one organization targeted by the FBI's COINTELPRO program. because the Black Panther Party demanded the total liberation of black people, J. Edgar  Hoover called it "greatest threat to the internal security of the country" and  vowed to destroy it and its leaders and activists.”

"My name is Angela Davis, I am a radical black activist and philosopher, was arrested as a suspected conspirator in the abortive attempt to free George Jackson from a courtroom in Marin County, California, August 7, 1970. The guns used were registered in my name. HOWEVER I was eventually acquitted of all charges, but was briefly on the FBI's most-wanted list as I fled from arrest.

I'm often associated with the Black Panthers and the black power politics of the late 1960s and early 1970s. I joined the Communist Party when Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968. And was very active with SNCC (Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee) before the Black Panthers.  I also ran for U.S. Vice President on the Communist Party ticket in 1980, Never stop fighting for what you believe in".

Rosa Parks: the revolutionary.*

 (Our rendition of a snippet from one of her many interviews)

Even though Parks was not the first to refuse to give up a seat on the Montgomery bus system, her status in the community and as secretary of the NAACP, magnified the event.  The events that took place after this solidified Parks as "the first lady of the civil rights" with this incident sparking the Montgomery Bus Boycott.  After her release from jail, Ms.Parks collaborated with local civil rights leaders; the leader of the boycott being Martin Luther King, Jr.

Even though was praised and continues to be praised today, she suffered for her resistance.  She lost her job as seamstress at the department store and eventually had to move to Michigan.  From 1965-1988, Parks served as the secretary and receptionist to US Representative John Conyers.  She retired and wrote her own autobiography.  

Ida B. Wells

 You wouldn’t believe what happened to me. Couldn’t imagine. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the kind of day you cant even fathom, a situation that you could  see happening to anyone else besides you. As I’m sitting on the train, resting just glad to be off my feet from teaching. The conductor comes up to me and asks me to give up MY seat, MY SEAT that I paid for, to a white man!! And orders me to the smokers car. Well there's just no way I'm giving up my seat that I have a right to. So I look him dead in the eyes and tell him no. After all i was in the ladies car. This man attempted to grab me by arms and drag me out my seat!! So I chomped down on his hand, and then he got two other men to help him and threw me off the train. He succeeded in getting me off the train but he certainly couldn't keep me out of the court. I went to the local circuit court and not only sued the railroad company but won too. 
This was the event that set off my career in journalism. To my surprise there were many people who wanted to hear my story, and my reasoning for not getting off. I then got a job with the newspaper "Free Speech and Headlight" this allowed me to educate people within my black community not just those in a class room. I guess I should back up and start at the beginning of my story. If I’m going to leave a little of my history behind I should probably make sure it’s correct. To whoever is reading this, my name is Ida. B Wells. I was born on July 16, 1862 in Mississippi. At the time of course I didn’t know it but I’d been born during the second year of the Civil War. Momma and Daddy were slaves, and of course this meant so was I. I’d have to say Daddy is where I got my love of politics and passion for change from.  

When I was little he’d read to me. Anything he could get his hands on or point to: newspapers, signs, ads, books, ingredients on things while momma’s cooking in the kitchen. Us getting our education was always important to them. I guess that’s why I had such a knack for teaching. Funny how his guidance continues to stayed with me even after he was gone.When my parents passed away I knew I had to find a way to provide for my siblings so with a little encouragement and strength I decided to apply for a teaching job in the country. I was young, very young and knew I’d have to alter myself a bit to even get them to let me in to apply. So I swept my hair up, hemmed one of momma’s dresses to fit me, mentally took on the mind of a woman and left the teenager behind. And I passed!!! Oh I passed.. I rem. the feeling like it was yesterday!! 

Me, a 16 year old girl teaching children. Daddy would be so proud. Although the position was in six miles into the country I still found time to care for sisters and brothers. During the week while I went away to teach, friends and family would come and take turns caring for the children. And my weekends were devoted to them: cooking, cleaning, and ironing. I never knew what meant it to be a caretaker and a provider until my parents passed away.  It was this route that I traveled back and forth on the train during the weekends that I got thrown off of.  Now that I've caught you up to the current place where I began my letter I'll continue where I left off. As I began my writing career with the newspaper I was offered part ownership and soon gained full possession of it. The main focus of all my articles was the injustice that we as an African-American race experience daily. I wasn't the only one to get thrown off a train or deal with some type of discrimination. It continues to be an everyday thing. 
Lynching was also a main topic that I felt necessary to speak out against in my literature. In 1892 three of my amazing well educated and successful friends were lynched and killed and their businesses torn down. I immediately publicized the situation and wrote about the horrible tragedy. Of course the whites didn't take too kindly to this and threatened to kill me if I ever came back to town. Yet again another obstacle was thrown in my way, but my voice couldn't be silenced. I just continued writing from a different location under another name. If you step away from this article with only one thing. Let it be to never let anyone regardless of race take your voice. Speak out for what you believe in. Although it's not often seen this way, it's not a crime to take a stance and fight to correct injustice. Despite what others think I am NOT a criminal, I am a human being like everyone else demanding what I deserve... EQUALITY.
                                                        Love, "Iola"

*Celia, a slave.

"If you’re reading this, you’re probably another prisoner.  Atleast I hope you are ‘cause I need you to be.  In order to understand how I ended up in this position you'd have to understand me. I was born in Missouri in 1836, and bought when I was just 14.  I knew a lot of blacks were still being bought to work on plantations and stuff so when I was bought I figured I would have the same faith.  The rape and abuse started the first time I met Newsome.  I was not only his house slave.  After one night and many nights to come, I became his sex slave.  Two children later and the rape still was happening.  I grew used to him even though I did not welcome him.  With no one to talk to, no one that would be able to help me at least, I figured what was happening was normal.  The only person other than Newsome that acknowledged me was another slave named George.  He was the only one that actually listened to me and tried to help me through it so it’s easy to see how our relationship started.  One night I snuck George into my cabin after Master had left and we did the forbidden.  Our relationship was going on right under everyone’s noses, even Master Newsome’s.  As it went on, George stressed to me how much he wanted me to end my relationship with Master but how was I going to do that? I loved George but I also knew what could happen if I displeased my Master. 

            I got pregnant and had no clue as to who the father was.  Of course Master Newsome figured my baby was his and so did George.  At this point all George wanted me to do was stop Master Newsome from hurting me. And I wanted the same. 

I couldn’t take it anymore. I was pregnant with my third child.  I couldn’t let him do this to me anymore.  One day, I grew so tired of his advances that I spoke up.  I told him didn’t want him to visit me anymore and you know what he did? He laughed and didn’t say a word.  Later that evening as I was just getting ready for bed, Master Newsome came to visit.  He tried to touch me and I lost it.  I picked up this stick that was next to the fire place and I hit him on the head with it.  I was so angry that I didn’t notice what I had done until I saw he wasn’t moving.  I had killed him.  The rape was over.  When I finally caught myself, I had to get rid of his body.  I threw him into the fire place and let him burn.  In the morning, I buried the bones that didn’t burn in the forest behind my cabin and got little James [Newsome’s grandson] to sweep the ashes out the fireplace. 

The next few days, his children and grandbabies searched for his body and I acted as if I knew nothing about it.  After about a week of searching and denying I had anything to do with it, I found out George told on me.  According to one of the other girls that lived on the plantation, George told the Newsome’s that they would find Master by my cabin.  When I found this out, I confessed.  I told them what I did.  I even told them about the rape and abuse and it didn’t matter.  All that mattered was that a woman, a black woman, a black slave woman killed her master, her white master. 

This brings us to where we are now.  I’ve been writing this letter in secret for the past few days.  Me writing this letter is a crime on its own.  The man who is supposed to be fighting for me wont let me tell my side of the story and even if he did, Missouri law wouldn’t allow it.  This is why I chose to write.  No one believed me then and they don’t believe me now. They don’t believe a woman, a pregnant woman at that could kill a white man on her own.  And the fact that I was black and he was white made it that much worse.  Im sitting in this cell for the murder of Robert Newsome.

You’re probably wondering what happened to George.   Well, he told the judge about us and what I had done.  He told on me but I couldn’t bring myself to bring him into this.  He convinced me to murder Newsome but I was the one that committed the crime.  No one made me. 

I refused to be taken advantage of any longer and because of that, Im probably going to live the rest of my life right here.  I hope that you are able to share my story with any and everyone who listens. 

If you’ve never heard this, know this now, thank you.  I have to go now.  It’s late and I can hear the watch guard coming. ‘Til next time."