Online FavoritesSpecial IssuesPhoto Galleries |
Why Are We in Vieques? (Cont.) MANY OF THE Vieques protesters imprisoned at Guaynabo are genuinely suffering to satisfy their consciences. They've lost jobs, and some of their families are going hungry. For me, it's been a vacation. While it's true that the meat dishes in federal prison have the taste and appearance of infected cadavers, the rice and beans are abundant and tasty. My cell has the simple design functionality that my wife, an architect, admires. The toilet is also the chair. The sink is also the desk, as well as a stepladder for climbing up onto the upper bunk. The footlocker is also the wardrobe, cupboard, bureau, bookshelf, shoe closet, refrigerator, and file cabinet--and it's only one by two feet. The spoon is also the fork; we are warned to preserve this ingenious implement for the duration of our stay. Wake-up is at 6 a.m., breakfast at 6:05. We are locked in our rooms for formal counts (we stand near our bunks at attention) at 10:30 a.m. and 4 p.m., and for the night at 9:45. We have Catholic church services on Tuesdays, which are standing room only. We can talk for ten minutes on the phone each day and have visitors once a week. We are strip-searched whenever we leave the cell block. Guards inspect our rooms for contraband, dirt, and food. The bed must be "wrinkle-free." Every night a giant crowd gathers outside the prison to cheer us and wave banners. There is a strong sense of community on our cell block. We play basketball and dominoes, have heated discussions during our communal meals, and everyone reads lots of books. Every night the prisoners make popcorn and play merengues, bolero, and salsa on their guitars and congas. As it happens, there are some well-known Caribbean musicians serving time here, so some nights the music is magical. My wife said she thought I was a hero, but if she could see me, she'd peg me as a slacker. She's the only real hero in this, having cared for our five children and produced our sixth, Aidan Caohman Vieques Kennedy, in my absence. On July 29 (three days before my release), nearly 70 percent of the island's residents voted in a nonbinding referendum to force the Navy to stop the bombing and leave immediately. The Navy, predictably, stated that the vote had no bearing on its plans and that it would go ahead with more maneuvers on August 2. In the days leading up to the referendum, the Navy waged a last-ditch campaign to sway the vote, including offering payments to fishermen who had lost income due to the maneuvers. Some Puerto Rican politicians accused the Navy of trying to buy votes. Whatever the motive, it's ironic that the Navy has waited so long to mitigate the impact of its presence on the island. If the Navy had committed itself to ameliorating the health, environmental, and economic effects of its maneuvers years ago, it might have found the patriotic Viequenses welcoming it as a good neighbor. My most poignant moment in prison was a reminder of that patriotism. One night a group of Viequenses apologized to me tearfully after hearing that an American flag had been burned on the island. Like so many battles in history, the Navy's fight to keep Vieques is being lost through arrogance alone. Now, I gotta go. I hear the guard coming and I have to hide my pen. Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is a senior attorney for the Natural Resources Defense Council and president of the Waterkeeper Alliance. He met his newborn son, Aidan, for the first time on visiting day in Guaynabo prison.
|
TODAY'S NEWS UPDATE!
The Spoke Word: Who's Riding What Now? If you like pro cycling enough to care about what bikes the top teams are riding, or if part of... ![]()
In-Convention Truth: The Fittest ...
Vote in our Survey! Does a fitness-focused president make the fittest commander-in-chief? So far ... ![]() advertisement
Vacation PackagesMore Travel Deals
Sign up for our Travel Deals Newsletter
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||