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LIFE OF A BLACK PRISONER      CHAPMAN

conduct record depends on the whim of the officials. A "good" inmate is simply an obedient slave of the state.
Shortly after my imprisonment, the prison began to regard me as a "bad" inmate. Why? Well, it began with my assignment as an inmate teacher in the prison school. In my history classes I taught  Black history right along with western history. In order to do this effectively, I used film strips from the public library (most of these were on Africa), The Negro in Our History by Carter G. Woodson, and some Negro History Bulletins. Also I organized a discussion group on world affairs; every two or three weeks we would discuss some major problem such as the Congo Crisis, the Vietnam War, World Population and Hunger, Cuba, Red China, and so on. In the discussion group, I used material I managed to get from the United Nations, Scientific American magazine, and I used an assortment of pamphlets along with current literature on the problem being discussed. The civilian teacher, Mr. Burgher, thought I was doing an excellent job and he always gave me Excellent (Grade E) on my work report. Work reports are for the purpose of reporting an inmate's progress to the Parole Board and prison authorities. Nevertheless, my classes antagonized some of the white inmates in my class because... notions of white supremacy were under persistent attack. So, some of the white inmates began telling prison officials that I was using the prison school to brainwash people in Communism and "Black Racism." 
Due to the enthusiastic support I was receiving from Mr. Burgher, the accusations made against me by white inmates were not taken too seriously at first. However, this was quickly altered by my activities on the prison yard. I had accepted the teaching position offered me by the Muslim brothers, consequently I would go to the yard every Saturday and Sunday and lecture on Black history. On many occasions I had as many as 50 Black brothers (both Muslim and non-Muslim) sitting and listening attentively to my lectures. This really frightened the racist prison authorities. 
I could see that the racist guards had cause for alarm so I tried to avoid a crisis by going to the prison chaplain and asking him to help us in getting a place to conduct our Black Studies program. I explained to him that if we had a place to study and lecture, then we wouldn't have to make a spectacle every weekend on the yard. The Chaplain agreed with me and he promised to take the matter up with higher officials. 
But before the Chaplain could do anything, the officials swept 

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