Smash Sexism! Smash Homophobia!

Once an ex-con told me i was pretty,

he said if i were in prison i’d be somebody’s woman,
The Anti-Exploits of
i’d have to obey him and be faithful to him,
if i got caught screwing with someone else,
i’d be slit with a knife or a razor blade,
slit until the blood from my faggot ass
Men Against Sexism
met the blood from my throat,
bled until the redness became a poem In which Mead is horrified by conditions in
and then a song,
until a mute nation heard
“Concrete Mama”and joins with new
but they haven’t heard and sometimes companions to improve them
i realize they can’t hear at all.

- Tommi, “The Rape Poem,” Washington State, 1976[1]

For more information:

http://www.gjbip.org/
http://www.gjbip.org/members/ed_mead.htm

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Partido de la Izquierda Erotica - PIE - Party of the Erotic Left “I’ll tell you what, we were tough faggots.”
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- Ed Mead, Men Against Sexism organizer, 1997
A dilapidated bus shunted twenty-one prisoners from processing at the A gym and martial arts studio was established in the club. On one wall a life-
Shelton Corrections Center on the Olympic Peninsula to the Washington size silhouette was painted which was used for kicking practice. Mead, unable
State Penitentiary (WSP) in Walla Walla, on the far eastern plains of the state. to resist an opportunity to proselytize, wrote the letters “KKK” on the target’s
The transport, which inmates called the “Gray Goose,” was stuffy in the late chest.
summer heat. Each person in the capacity crowd sweated copiously. Each was
cuffed to his waist chain, which was linked to the inmate next to him, and MAS was at its peak. Mead felt the organization had accomplished the goals he
manacled at the ankles. Fresh contributions to the open bucket at the back of set out for it—the transformation of a rape culture. This shift at WSP percolated
the jostling vehicle activated the odor of an older layer of miasmic filth coating down through the lower security joints and the overall conditions in the state
the floor. The anxiety was palpable as the entire busload of awed “fishes” and improved dramatically. Media coverage of the campaign was encouraging. The
discouraged old-timers approached “Concrete Mama,” the largest and most public attention it drew legitimized the organization and gave it bargaining
notorious penal colony in the Pacific Northwest. power with the administration. MAS submitted a petition to the appropriate
Deputy Superintendent requesting official sanction of its existence. If approved,
The institution, when it came into view, was as imposing and dreary as Ed MAS would become the first legal gay prisoners’ organization in the country.
Mead had imagined it would be. Its guntower-capped rock walls protected In order to make the success of this petition more likely Mead handed over
blocky dormitories and industrial facilities. It looked like what it was: a factory the presidency of the organization to another prisoner more palatable to the
producing dead souls. administration. He himself had a new priority: escape.

Mead pondered the shell of a cocoon from which he might not emerge. He
scanned the monotonous wheat fields for any landmarks which could orient
him if the opportunity for escape presented itself.

The “Goose” passed into a sallyport. A prison guard boarded the bus and
casually scanned for contraband. A second gate opened into the prison yard.
The newcomers were disgorged, shuffling two by two, in a chain.

Established cons gawked at the inductees. Old buddies greeted each other
[1] Morning Due (Seattle, WA), vol. 2, issue 3, may-june ’76, p.14.
raucously; old enemies glared at one another ominously. Any inmate looking
fresh and new was presented with more bawdy calls—“Oh, she’s a pretty [2] John McCoy, Concrete Mama: Prison Profiles from Walla Walla, University of
one!”—which were accompanied by laughter and leers. Missouri Press (Columbia, MO: 1981), p. 136

After waiting in line Mead was uncuffed, handed clothes, and given a cell [3] Johnson lost face he never regained. Little over a year later he was ferociously stabbed
assignation. He asked other inmates directions to Six Wing, his new home, and by Agtuca and Gilcrist while being blown a “nose hit”—marijuana smoke passed from
one party’s lungs into another’s via a tightly rolled tube of paper. The assassination
meandered over. The ramshackle condition of everything depressed him. The
attempt was part of a power changeover that began with the incident provoked by
prospect of passing his two life sentences in such drabness turned all the color Mead in the ISU. Johnson, however, was so physically domineering that, after being
inside him to gray. stabbed 32 times, he snatched the two shanks away from his assailants and chased them
off the tier.
The inside of Six Wing was cavernous. Four stories of tiers buzzed with activity
as men, packed four to a tiny cell, settled in for the coming evening count. The Over twenty years later Johnson was profiled by Jim Brunner in The Stranger. The
account contains multiple factual inaccuracies and is infused with a naïve reading of
air, poorly circulated, was composed of equal parts body odor and cigarette Johnson’s character: “Life Sentence,” September 17, ’98, pp. 10-15; 17-19.
smoke.
[4] An account to their visit with MAS by two women from Women Out Now is printed as
Only one of his three new cellmates was in when he arrived. “Doc” was a “Men Against Sexism” Through the Looking Glass (Seattle, WA), v.2, #10, December ’77.
grizzled old white dude who, Mead discovered to his pleasant surprise, was
also a jailhouse lawyer. The two chatted amiably. Count was called over the [5] “ Walla Walla Hassle,” Northwest Passage (Seattle, WA), October 3-24, ’77, p.11
loudspeaker. A squad of fully armored guards appeared in front of the cell. The
[6] “In Walla Walla: Prison split in gay dispute,” The Oregonian (Portland, OR),
commanding officer barked “Mead! Out!” Mead complied. He was cuffed and November 15, ’77.
escorted to the Intensive Security Unit (ISU) (also known as “Administrative
Segregation,” the shortened version of which is “Ad-seg”), where disciplinary
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commodity like drugs and sex: a bunk must be bought with contraband or, problems were confined to their cells 23 hours a day. The ISU was located in a
if the inmate was broke and inexperienced at other forms of hustling, sexual stand-alone red brick cellblock which convicts called “Big Red.”
favors. And once one started putting out, a pimp would step in.
Mead’s reputation preceded him. Warden Bobby J. Rhay, overseer of the
To disrupt this process MAS, inspired by the outside movement against institution for a generation, had read Mead’s dossier: a burglar and armed
domestic violence, established “safe cells,” in which particularly vulnerable robber who had organized prisoner work strikes during previous bids; a self-
new inmates or refugees from pimps and dominators could reside. Supporters proclaimed “revolutionary” who, on his last stint in the free world, co-founded
from Seattle’s prisoners’ rights and queer communities helped raise funds to the communist “urban guerrilla” organization “the George Jackson Brigade.” It
pay for cells, which MAS bought from other prisoners. MAS members met was with this group, named after a prisoner martyr responsible for the deaths
prisoners on “the chain”—the line from the bus to processing—and took aside of several guards, that Mead placed a pipebomb by the desk of the Deputy
the ones who seemed to meet the criteria of exploiters. They explained the Director of the Washington Department of Corrections (DoC) little over a
situation to newcomers, and, if the person so desired, gave him a cell until year earlier. Rhay was not comforted by the fact that the bomb was timed to
he could be absorbed into the prison population from a position of greater detonate so as not to injure anyone. Contrary to standard procedure he ordered
security. that Mead be placed in the ISU, not for anything he had done, but for what he
had shown himself prone to do. One sergeant commented to a reporter from
MAS met in the PJC’s office until the PJC refused to back MAS in their the Walla Walla Union Bulletin: “Any GJB member is going to be ad-segged
campaign against recalcitrant rapists, at which point the queer men’s right off the git-go.”[2]
organization stalked out into the cold.
Mead submitted to the degrading induction ritual along with a younger, more
Without housing MAS was forced to meet on the “breezeway,” a roofed walk slightly built, prisoner. They ignored each other, caught up in their individual
way lined with chain-link fencing between a cellblock and a mess hall. All humiliations.
the unemployed hung out there: it was where the institution’s black market—
clothing, drugs, sex—convened. One portion of the path was known as “Blood “Remove your clothing.” One guard peered into their mouths and ears as
Alley” due to the violent disputes which constantly erupted there; blotches others observed lazily. “Lift your sac.” Another inspection. “Turn and spread
on the concrete and the prevalence of scars and mutilations among the alley’s ‘em.”
denizens served as reminders.
Mead’s cell was disgusting. The walls were painted a putrid green and crusted
One island of beauty existed in the prison. It was “Lifers’ Park,” an emerald of in fecal matter and mucus. The painted aluminum sink-toilet unit was chipped
manicured grass and carefully cultivated flowers controlled by the Lifers’ Club. and emanates the acrid scent of stale urine.
The Lifers’ Club was run by a black ex-boxer named Tommy Thomas and his
two white lieutenants. Thomas liked to have sexual relations with men and “Guard!” Mead shouted ineffectually. “I want a different cell!”
considered himself politically progressive: on one occasion he let it be known
There was traffic on the tier that evening as certain inmates, briefly permitted
that he fancied himself the second coming of George Jackson. Mead didn’t
out of their cells, made social calls. An inmate with long brown hair and a
think so highly of him, but he did trust him enough to collaborate. As many
beard stopped by Mead’s cell. He was a little younger than Mead, similarly
MAS members were lifers anyway, MAS began meeting in the Lifers’ Club. They
built but more powerfully filled out.
invited in their own guests from outside the prison. For special visitors they
were able to make use of a sound proof room with a bed in it in the downstairs “My name’s Danny Atteberry,” he introduced. “Me and a couple other guys
of the Club’s two storey building. are in here for takin’ over the joint on New Year’s ’74. I know what you’re in
for and I know the Brigade. It’s good work you done. The others of us in here
MAS members replaced officers in the Lifers’ Club who were released to
are Joe Green and Mark LaRue.” Danny paused, then confided, peering into
the streets or transferred to other institutions. Mead became Treasurer, and
Mead’s eyes, “I guess you could say Carl Harp was involved too.”
Atteberry, Harp, and LaRue were all on the organization’s Executive Board.
They were conscientious caretakers. They implemented a candy sales program Mead knew exactly who Danny was. Directly after being shunted off to the
which put money in the Club’s coffers. Decisions on spending the proceeds ISU for his role in the takeover, Atteberry had clandestinely sent an appeal for
were made democratically—members voted to buy a foosball and a pool table help out of the penitentiary. It came into Mead’s hands and, after canvassing
and made other improvements to the building and garden. They also initiated Seattle’s counter-cultural community for aid without result, he decided that
a letter writing campaign to legislators in which lifers expressed their desire for
sentencing reform.
9 2
some propagandistic direct action could be useful. He formed the Brigade and This campaign was part and parcel of politicized ideas on gayness Mead had
bombed the Department of Corrections. been developing since the early ‘70s, when he began to conceive of male
homosexuality as a means of confronting patriarchal oppression. Mead came
Mead didn’t recognize Green’s name, but he had met LaRue in the King out to himself concurrent with his conversion to communism; in creating an
County Jail after his own arrest. LaRue had passed him an unsolicited escape unorthodox line asserting the “correctness” of homosexuality, he was making
plan which a guard intercepted—Mead was quickly placed in disciplinary an ideology with which he could comply. It also worked as a pick-up line
segregation and his own prospect for illegal release, which did not involve with others in the political community. “Men need to look to one another to
LaRue, was thwarted. fulfill our emotional and sexual needs instead of continually draining women,”
Mead once asserted with conviction to Bruce Seidel, the man with whom
Harp impressed Mead even more negatively than the bumbling LaRue. He
he co-founded the Brigade. Seidel agreed, but the two were unable to fulfill
was incarcerated after randomly firing at drivers on a freeway—killing one and
one another’s needs in this regard before Seidel was killed in the Brigade’s
injuring another—and brutally raping two young girls. When Mead first met
first ill-fated attempt at bank robbery. In an interview with The Oregonian he
him, several years earlier, Harp claimed to be a “political prisoner.” Mead was
contended gayness wasn’t just about sexual preference, but promoting a desire
disgusted.
to develop bonds of affection and understanding among fellow prisoners.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Mead declared. “Here you’re jammed together. You have to bind up to have buddies. There’s a
lot of love in here, but men don’t give it expression.” [6]
A couple hours later things turned ugly. The cell next to Mead’s housed the
inmate with whom he was inducted. A rat pack of convicts congregated in To create a place for love, coercion and fear must first be vanquished. Initially
front of the cell with the obvious intention of raping its occupant. Mead sprung MAS only counseled and comforted victims who had made their escape from
from the bunk on which he’d been reclining and watched, stupefied, as the their tormenters, but prompted by ravages inflicted on members’ consciences,
scene unfolded. the organization soon assumed the role of saviors of the abused.

The officer in the control booth at the end of the tier cracked an ingratiating The group’s first crisis came when a young inmate arrived at the institution and
smile at the menacing convicts and began cranking the mechanical wheel was promptly carried off to a cell and gang raped. The perpetrators then sold
which opened the kid’s cell door. These particular prisoners weren’t people their victim to the inhabitants of a different cell. As the product was the whole
to cross, even for an outside employee. Curtis Johnson was the leader of the person, not simply their services, the price—$300—was significantly higher
pack. He was a middleweight Northwest Golden Glove champion and, at least than a carton of cigarettes. Mead and company, for the first time, felt prepared
until he was slammed into the ISU for murdering another prisoner earlier in the to intervene. Using a combination of bluff and bluster, dumb luck and moral
year, the only black in the prison’s otherwise white supremacist Bikers Club. persuasion, they extracted the victim from his assailants.
He was accompanied by Kenny Agtuca, a small and wiry Filipino-American
Instead of winning the respect of other convicts, this move made MAS
who radiated danger, and Al Gilcrist, a hulking white inmate whose physique
members pariahs. The young inmate was a convicted pedophile—the absolute
fit more conventional definitions of “muscle.” The kid, terrified, grabbed a
lowest category in the pecking order. “What are you doin’?!” one inmate
book and jammed it between the bars and the wall, preventing the door from
demanded, infuriated. “How can you take the side of a kiddie fucker over
opening. Members of the pack tried to snatch the book from him, but the kid
stand-up cons?”
snapped it back. The guard cranked the door again, and the kid jammed the
book back between the bars and the wall. Johnson went for a pitcher of hot “It’s the principle,” Mead insisted. “You can’t buy and sell people, no matter
water to throw on the kid, but the scalding was ineffective: a couple trips to the who they are.” But principles and moral suasion weren’t particularly powerful
faucet later the standoff continued. with this crowd, which was accustomed to getting their pleasure at the cost of
others’.
Mead’s first reaction was disbelief. ‘What is this place? What is happening to
me?’ He witnessed the circling of the sexual target hysterically. He wanted Once they had freed the inmate from sexual slavery, MAS needed to provide
to shout out at the perpetrators: “Stop, you villains!” or something equally him with a safe cell so that he would not be abducted again; they encountered
chivalrous and ridiculous, but couldn’t quiet the fear: ‘If I stand up for the kid the same situation with others who came to them in flight from abusive
the pack might come for me!’ relationships. The housing situation at the Washington State Penitentiary made
this a difficult problem to solve. New inmates were assigned cells by the
Mead had had his own experience with sexual assault. When he was nine,
administration but could only stay in them for a few days before being ejected
living in the projects in LA, he and a friend were raped. The two boys had
by the cell’s “owner,” a powerful prisoner resident. Housing was a black market
3 8
In the summer of 1977, MAS made contact with the Metropolitan Community been lured into the apartment of an older man by his comic collection and,
Churches (MCC), a religious organization for gays based in Los Angeles which once inside, smooth talk progressed into physical detainment and demands
claimed 30,000 to 40,000 members. Like many groups committed to social of compliance at knifepoint. After anally penetrating each boy, the man
justice at the time, work with prisoners had become an integral part of their brandished a rifle and informed the children that he was an ex-convict who
mission. John Rowe, an MCC chaplain, served on the National Board of had nothing to lose by killing them if they told anyone of what he had done.
Institutional Services. His only duty was to minister to the institutionalized Mead’s friend informed his parents, and Mead was subjected by authorities to a
population of Washington. painful rectal plumbing with a tongue depressor—a fruitful search for a semen
sample—and an inexplicable two week detention in jail.
On Monday, September 12th, Reverend Rowe came to WSP for the first time
and convened a special worship service which was attended by approximately Then he was an innocent kid; by the time he reached WSP he was a committed
20 prisoners. In an interview with a counter-cultural paper after the service, he revolutionary obligated to act in accordance with his ideals. As he sought the
stressed that MCC’s programs were open to all sexual orientations: “We are not resolve to intervene, the guard tired of the game. The would-be rapists returned
about to imitate the bigoted exclusiveness so commonly evidenced by most to their cells, unfulfilled and irritable.
churches to we who are gay… The service held at the ‘Walls’ bore this out for
it was attended by not only our gay and bisexual brothers, but also others who Mead shared in the obvious relief of the would-be victim, but he was disgusted
feel deeply about the dignity of all humans.”[5] with himself for having even considered his own well-being in the face of this
heinous crime. His opponents, no doubt, were formidable, but when had he
On the 13th Rowe came in for a meeting with Men Against Sexism, but after been scared away from fulfilling his commitments? He resolved to right the
two hours was asked to leave the chapel by the Protestant preacher Reverend situation—or, quite possibly, die trying.
Gerald Jacobson. In response to Jacobson’s concerns, a guard advised Rowe:
“You were cleared improperly. Your visit is now over.” The next day the cell doors opened for the one hour recreational period. Mead
cleaned his cell, then sought out Atteberry, Greene, and LaRue. “What’s going
Mead, a staunch Marxist-Leninist, included a steady expansion of rights as part on? Why is this allowed here?” he demanded incredulously.
of his interpretation of correct communism—economic rights as well as what
he called “the standard bourgeois ones,” like freedom of religion. He would The trio shared his outrage but displayed an unwillingness to confront the pack
fight for gays’ right to worship with whom they please, and prepared with a members—the toughest cons in the toughest joint in the state. Harp listened
clash with the Protestant preacher. in on the conversation. Though obviously intimidated by the prospect, he told
Mead “I’ll stand with you.”
The following Sunday a prisoner ran up to Mead and exclaimed “Jacobson’s
gonna give a sermon on the evils of homosexuality! He’s attacking MCC!” Before returning to his cell, Mead discussed prevailing sexual practices with an
Mead called together runners and instructed them: “Tell everyone to attend the old timer.
Protestant services, and to wear their Sunday best!” The runners went to every
“Don’t get riled up,” the convict counseled. “The kid’s a punk. What else is he
tier.
gonna do? He’d be givin’ it away if no one was takin’ it. People get done in
Mead entered the chapel to a delightful spectacle. Thirty-some queers filled here all the time. Sissies’re bought and sold for cigarettes. It’s just the way it is.”
the pews decked out in colorful drag. Thirty was a substantial number, as
Mead disagreed sharply and chastised: “You’re cannibalizing yourselves! How
the church was primarily attended by an insignificant gaggle of protective
can prisoners ever improve our conditions when we act this way towards each
custody cases and child molesters. Mead imagined that the presence of so
other?! This has got to change!” He stalked back to his cell.
many deviants would deter the preacher from his tirade, but Jacobson lit into
it regardless: “There is a sacred bond between man and woman which is While Mead tussled with his conscience the takeover veterans and the
sanctified before the eyes of God in the act of marriage. Sexual contact outside old timer acted on theirs. They joined Agtuca and Gilcrist and discussed
of the sacred union between a man and a woman is a sin and…” Mead stood, permissible behavior in the unit with them. Because of Mead’s actions on
interrupting, and proclaimed “You are persecuting gays and in doing so you behalf of Walla Walla inmates, his views bore weight, and his dismay with
are denying us our religious freedom and being un-Christian in your hostility to their conduct injured their pride. The pack members abandoned their leader.
tolerance and diversity!” Other queers chimed in: “Yeah!” “Tell it!” It was clear to Johnson who was responsible for this change. In the course of
making friends and influencing people, Mead had made an enemy.
A few days after the incident Mead observed, ‘Gays are holding their heads a
little higher!’ He took pride in the change.
7 4
First thing the next morning Johnson, shirtless, came with a jumprope and packs of cigarettes. The whore had no right to refuse anyone. All profits went to
planted himself in front of Mead’s cell. He began skipping rapidly, crossing his owner. Several people chose suicide over this life. Few convicts took pride
the rope back and forth in front of himself with contained grace. His muscles in the prevalence of the practice, but none—including the institution’s despised
bulged and rippled; he was not only the peer of professional boxers, but an and demoralized gays—showed any motivation to fight it.
accomplished weightlifter as well. Johnson was successful in his goal: Mead
was petrified. But he met and held his opponent’s icy gaze. Mead and his cellmates, in conjunction with other inmate leaders, decided
to form the “Prison Justice Committee” (PJC) to improve conditions in the
Mead was permitted on to the tier next. He took the jumprope and stood in institution. The Seattle chapter of American Friends Service Committee, the
front of his opponent’s cell. Clumsy with inexperience, he tripped, hit himself Quaker organization with the longest-standing commitment to penal reform in
with the rope, but kept skipping. The message was clear: he would fight for his the country, endorsed their efforts. Eddwynn Jordan, a black ISU vet, popular
principles. with prisoners and relatively unknown to the administration, was chairperson.
Mead was vice chairperson.
That afternoon Mead learned that Johnson had had his rec period changed so
that the next day he and Mead would be on the tier at the same time. Mead The PJC was incorporated under the umbrella of the Resident Governance
spent the night in agony, barely sleeping, preparing, with the feeble tools Counsel, the inmate advisory board, but from the beginning its attendance
permitted him by a religious commitment to communism, to depart this life. exceeded that of its parent organization. The PJC divided into subcommittees
which concentrated on diverse facets of institutional life, from medical care
The confrontation didn’t come. The next day Johnson ignored him. When the to visiting policies. One subcommittee worked on legislative reform. Many
rec period ended, Mead returned to his cell immeasurably lighter. A couple included the input of outside activists, who were permitted to attend the
days later Johnson put in a request to be moved to another tier. [3] organization’s meetings. The PJC quickly became an independent organization
provided with its own meeting space.
Mead didn’t understand. Harp explained it to him.
Mead insisted that the PJC not only combat institutional oppression and racism,
“You bombed the DoC in support of us prisoners. Johnson can’t go up against
but prisoners’ sexism and homophobia as well. Gays joined in and, before
you. He’s already lost a lot of popularity by knifing that other inmate. He just
long, Mead was chairing a subcommittee which bore the name he dreamt
had to get out.”
up in the ISU: Men Against Sexism (MAS). The idea was that, in abusing one
Mead was immensely pleased: his words carried weight; those for whom he another, men used sexist concepts such as equating openness with weakness.
acted in solidarity would stand with him as well. They insulted one another with misogynistic epithets: “bitch,” “cunt,” “pussy.”
Only by rooting out internalized sexism would men treat one another with
After a number of months in the ISU Mead and his likeminded companions respect.
were released into general population. They all celled together: Mead,
Atteberry, Greene, and LaRue. It was a tight fit—four people in a cell designed To raise the consciousness of the rank and file, MAS started a monthly
for two—but cozy with camaraderie. newsletter. It was called The Lady Finger, after the petite firecracker, in contrast
to the crisis-prone clandestine publication The Bomb. The organization’s
Unemployment was high in the densely packed institution, so Mead was not twenty-odd members also watched progressive documentaries like “Men
compelled to find an in-prison job. He used his time to orient, talking to other and Masculinity” and various anti-war films, which distributors sent in free of
prisoners and getting a grip on the concerns of the dispossessed. charge.

Rape was one of the most prominent issues. Sexual slavery was an engrained Bright cultural workers, such as members of Olympia’s Theater of the
aspect of institutional culture. The process of enslavement went like this: an Unemployed, a political satire troupe, and Seattle’s feminist prisoners’ rights
aggressive prisoner picked a vulnerable one who had just gotten off the bus. organization Women Out Now, came to visit. MAS members played host,
The victims were often young and sometimes openly gay, though effeminate taking new friends, who had traveled five hours to see them, on tours of the
straights, the elderly, and any others unable to defend themselves were in an prison, feeding them, and otherwise expressing their gratitude for this lifeline of
equally perilous position. He informed his choice: “You’ll turn tricks for me contact. Many outsiders, for their part, were moved by the conditions of their
or I’ll slit your fucking throat.” The inductee now belonged to the pimp. The companions’ confinement, and deepened their commitment to stand beside
established convict pleasured himself with his new charge for a couple days, them.[4]
then began renting him out. The newcomer’s sexual availability was signified
by lace sewn onto his sleeve. All that was needed from a customer was several
5 6