TRANSCRIPT:

We sang songs. The music was extraordinarily important. We chanted,” We ain’t afraid of going to jail tonight because we’re fighting in the freedom fight” and “Paul and Silas bound for jail, got no money to go for bail. Keep your eyes on the prize. Hold on.” All the songs that bound us to one another, and bound us to people like us all over the United States, and the world who were doing similar things. So, on one of those occasions when we got arrested, as happened with each of them, we were segregated by gender.

Back then they only recognized two genders and all of the women, among whom I was one, was not yet 19. Most of us and all of the women were taken to, I think, the sixth floor of the county jail on Bryant Street, I think it was in downtown San Francisco, the Mission District of San Francisco, or near the Mission in San Francisco.

We were fingerprinted. And then in this particular case, dozens of us, I would guess, somewhere between 30 and 40 of us, in this arrest were thrown into one big cell. In the middle we were surrounded by smaller cells. But this particular cell was very interesting because it had four sets of bunk beds and a big open space.

Instead of bars on windows, there were two solid walls forming an L behind the big open space. And then there was a big plate glass window, which was included in it, in that same setup, the door through which we were led and taken out, which turned out to be an important thing because when we were back together after being fingerprinted and stuff, of course we sang. We sang the same civil rights songs and we clapped along with it and we felt every word that we were singing.

“Oh, freedom. I’ve got freedom over me. Before I’ll be a slave–” We didn’t say, we said “before I’d be a slave, I’ll be buried in my grave because I’m going to fight for my right to be free.” We weren’t going home to any Lord or anything, we were going to fight. And that was the spirit in which we were in jail.

Well, it turns out you’re not supposed to be happy in a big jail. The matrons there kept telling us to shut up. “This ain’t no happy place.” They would yell at us, “Be quiet.” Well, we were used to not taking those kinds of orders, and we were feeling buoyant because we were together not just with ourselves, but we knew the men were in another floor of the same building, doing the same thing. And we knew that all over the United States there was a movement that was doing the same kind of thing. We weren’t facing the same kind of brutality and violence that was being faced by our peers in the South, but they also were doing the same thing anyway. 

There were there were between 30 and 40 women in that cell. And the reason I know that is because of what happened. I can tell you, you’ll understand where the math comes in. So, I happened to be standing very near the door, which was next to that big plate glass window.

And of course, when you’re singing, you keep rhythm, especially if you’re in the Civil Rights Movement. That was a big part of it. When you’re in the same beat as other people, you feel your hearts are connected, too. And the music was so important for that. So, I don’t carry a tune very well, but I was singing loud anyway.