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In a society that prioritizes profits over people, disabled people are frequently marginalized and disposed of. Incarceration and police violence underscore the ways capitalism fails its most vulnerable.
Snce 2020, plans to build militarized police training facilities, also known as cop cities, have erupted across the country in an effort to maintain the status quo and quell political dissent from abolitionist and progressive organizers. As of July 2024, there are 80 projects either already being built or in the process of negotiating contracts to begin construction. Ten states have plans for multiple police compounds. The creation of these training facilities marks a new chapter of policing in the U.S.
Disability justice and disabled community organizers must be at the forefront of the nationwide movement to stop cop cities because this movement is a disability justice issue.
The movement to #StopCopCity emerged in the wake of nationwide uprisings in response to police killings of Black people, sparking critical conversations around the role of policing, the limits of police reform, community safety, and alternatives to the criminal legal system. Along with other organizations, I organized on the ground in Atlanta, where multiple police agencies used militarized tactics against community members. This occurred even as we mourned the loss of Rayshard Brooks, a member of our community who was killed by the Atlanta Police Department. All of this unfolded as we grappled with the profound impacts of a global pandemic—a mass-disabling event affecting countless lives.
We must listen to and follow the leadership of disabled people, especially those who are formerly or currently incarcerated.
Our collective grief transformed into action, fueling demands to end state-sanctioned violence and redirect investment into our communities. Our displays of solidarity angered and alarmed corporations, as well as local and national political establishments. In collaboration with major media outlets, those in power obscured the focus, reframing the narrative around rising crime rates and once again positioning police as the solution to our social, political, and economic challenges.
As a response to our organizing efforts, the city of Atlanta decided to build a $90 million complex equipped with military-grade facilities and a mock city for urban police training. If completed, this would be the country’s largest police training facility. Other municipalities have followed Atlanta’s misleadership. Cop city proposals have surfaced in Baltimore, Maryland; San Pablo, California; Fitchburg, Massachusetts; and Nashville, Tennessee all in response to demonstrations that took place in 2020. Meanwhile, other facilities have completed construction and are currently in operation like the cop cities in Semmes, Alabama; Fort Lauderdale, Florida; Decatur and Chicago, Illinois; and Madisonville, Kentucky.
In a society that prioritizes profits over people, disabled people are frequently marginalized and disposed of. Incarceration and police violence underscore the ways capitalism fails its most vulnerable. Disabled people are often excluded from discussions about the criminal legal system, resulting in limited and ineffective strategies for addressing the root causes of incarceration (e.g., poverty, racism, and capitalism).
The overrepresentation of people with disabilities in prisons and jails illustrates how victims of capitalism are locked up and harmed. Approximately 66% of incarcerated individuals in the U.S. report having a disability, while half of all people killed by police are disabled, with disabled Black Americans disproportionately affected. Even people without a disability who are locked up develop some sort of disability over the course of their imprisonment because the prison system is disabling.
Each year, an estimated 350 people with mental health diagnoses are killed by law enforcement, and individuals with psychiatric disabilities are 16 times more likely to be killed during police encounters. People like Anthony Hill, Sandra Bland, Eric Garner, Deborah Danner, Alfred Olango, Daniel Prude, Magdiel Sanchez, Freddie Gray, and countless others were all disabled people who were murdered by police.
These risks are even greater for people of color, women, trans folks, and LGBTQIA+ people. An alarming statistic reveals that by age 28, half of all disabled Black Americans have experienced arrest, underscoring the urgent need to address police violence and brutality as an intersectional issue that includes disability justice. These statistics will continue to rise as more Cop Cities are built, which will place BIPOC disabled individuals in closer proximity to police and increase their risk of harm.
The estimated budgets for these police training facilities are staggering; meanwhile police funding already consumes the majority of municipal budgets at the expense of essential social services. As police budgets grow, funding for education, direct services, infrastructure, and healthcare falls, leaving many—especially disabled individuals—without access to the resources they need. For example, Baltimore’s training facility is projected to cost $330 million; San Pablo, California estimates a $44 million facility, and Richmond, Kentucky, has a $28 million project budget.
Investing more in police departments does not create safer communities. Increased training does not address the root causes of violence. The safest communities are those that are well-resourced and have minimal police presence. Our communities deserve better.
The changing landscape of policing in the U.S. is increasingly characterized by international police exchange programs (also known as Deadly Exchange programs), which expose officers to new surveillance methods, military tactics, and forms of political repression from countries with notorious human rights abuses.
The Georgia International Law Enforcement Exchange (GILEE) program in Atlanta sends U.S. officers to train with the Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF), who are responsible for the ongoing genocide of Palestinians. The IOF conducts urban warfare training in a mock city called "Little Gaza," a replica of the Gaza Strip designed to simulate combat scenarios. These practices serve as the blueprint for cop cities across the U.S.
In Baltimore, an Amnesty International report found that the Baltimore Police Department’s participation in deadly exchange programs with Israel contributed to “widespread constitutional violations, discriminatory enforcement, and a culture of retaliation.” However, more police departments are participating in deadly exchange programs. Police officials from states including Florida, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Arizona, Connecticut, Massachusetts, North Carolina, Washington, and D.C. have also trained with Israeli paramilitary forces.
Israel, a nation responsible for the killing and disabling of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians, serves as the model for these military complexes. These tactics will disproportionately impact marginalized communities domestically and amplify surveillance and repression in already vulnerable areas. Disability Justice involves liberating Palestinians from the disabling effects of genocide.
Climate change is deeply connected to the issues of cop cities and disability justice. Projects like those in Atlanta and Nashville involve clearing large areas of urban forest, causing severe environmental harm. For example, Atlanta’s urban forest, which protects communities from flash flooding, has already been compromised, leading to increased flooding across the city. Such environmental degradation worsens health conditions for disabled people, leaving them to face the consequences with little support, as we saw during disasters like Hurricane Helene. This situation will only deteriorate further.
What is to be done?
The phrase “death by a thousand cuts” reminds us that there is no single solution to combat social injustice in this country. Addressing these challenges requires a diversity of tactics and a shared commitment to building a better world. Everyone has a role to play in movement work—whether it’s cooking for comrades, taking meeting notes, providing childcare so others can participate, or conducting research on targets. Every action, big or small, adds up, creating momentum when combined with the efforts of others. There is a place for you; come find it.
We must listen to and follow the leadership of disabled people, especially those who are formerly or currently incarcerated. Those directly impacted by oppressive systems possess invaluable knowledge of how these systems function and must be at the forefront of our movements. Yes, that means building relationships with people currently incarcerated.
It’s equally critical to learn from past campaigns, both their victories and setbacks. For example, the 2017 #NoCopAcademy campaign in Chicago, which sought to stop the construction of a police training facility, illustrates how grassroots organizing can achieve tangible wins. While the facility was ultimately built, organizers succeeded in cutting $21 million from school policing budgets, a significant step toward redistributing resources.
A new world is emerging, whether we are ready for it or not. It’s up to all of us to prepare and take action to shape what comes next. Liberation is possible, but we need you to make it a reality.
The same Western democracies who claim to represent the “free world” have seen dangerous backsliding on the right to protest on issues ranging from Palestine to the climate emergency.
Much of the world looks bleak in the fall of 2024.
Israel’s assault on Gaza, the world’s first live-streamed genocide, goes on unchecked, with material and diplomatic support from powerful countries. Emboldened by this support, Israel is now attacking Lebanon as well.
Large numbers of people in countries abetting the genocide are appalled at their own governments’ position, and are using a multitude of tactics to demand their governments stop supporting genocide, but their governments are stubbornly sticking to their position.
Even as the world heads towards climate catastrophe, governments of wealthy nations most responsible for the crisis are criminalizing resistance against fossil fuels.
This is also likely to be the hottest year ever recorded, with life-threatening heatwaves in Mexico and South Asia, devastating hurricanes hitting the Caribbean and the U.S. South, and unprecedented wildfires in Canada.
Governments of powerful countries are on the wrong side of this issue as well. They continue recklessly issuing permits for expanding fossil fuel infrastructure. Confronting fossil fuel barons is politically popular, but governments of self-proclaimed democracies ignore public opinion.
As with the Gaza genocide, people in these countries—and worldwide—are using creative protests to challenge the fossil fuel industry and its government and financial backers.
When governments ignore popular demands, people protest. In a democracy, they have a right to do so. Even when these protests break laws (for example, by blocking access to government offices), evolving norms of democratic rights recognize civil disobedience as a form of free speech that can lead to legal consequences but that should not be criminalized.
But the same Western democracies who claim to represent the “free world” have seen dangerous backsliding on the right to protest.
Governments in Western democracies violate core protections for free expression when it comes to solidarity with Palestine. In Germany, this has included blanket bans on Palestine solidarity demonstrations (subsequently lifted after political pressure and legal challenges), and censorship and retaliation directed at critical voices.
Germany is not unique in this regard. Amnesty International notes a concerning trend of restrictions on Palestine solidarity activism across Europe.
In the U.S., Palestine solidarity encampments on college campuses in the spring of 2024 were met with a heavy-handed response from university officials and law enforcement. Students faced suspension, evictions from university housing, violence from police and vigilantes, arrests, and serious criminal charges for actions such as sit-ins and building occupations, which have a long history in U.S. student protests.
Many U.S. colleges adopted highly restrictive policies to prevent protests before reopening for the fall semester, raising serious concerns about their respect for their students’ free speech rights.
Even as the world heads towards climate catastrophe, governments of wealthy nations most responsible for the crisis are criminalizing resistance against fossil fuels.
Few examples are as egregious (and blatantly racist) as the Canadian states’ response to Indigenous Wet’suwet’en peoples protecting their traditional territories from a polluting gas pipeline they didn’t consent to. Protesters have faced harassment, surveillance, and militarized raids by law enforcement and the pipeline company’s private security force.
Amnesty International has declared Dsta’hyl, a clan chief of the Wet’suwet’en, to be the first prisoner of conscience in Canada because of his house arrest for resisting the pipeline. Canada attacks Indigenous peoples fighting for their futures (and all of our collective futures) even as it increases production of polluting tar sands oil.
South of the border in the United States, the world’s largest oil and gas producing country, environmental defenders have been targeted by laws criminalizing protest against fossil fuel infrastructure, now on the books in nearly half the states,
My former colleague Gabrielle Colchete and I found in a 2020 study that these laws were systematically pushed by fossil fuel industry interests, and introduced by legislators who were plied with campaign cash by the industry. We looked at case studies of three communities targeted by polluting infrastructure projects that benefited from these laws. They were Black, Indigenous, or poor white communities, with more widespread poverty than the national average. Clearly, these laws were intended to further restrict the ability of already marginalized communities to resist projects that would sacrifice their health and livelihoods yet again for corporate profit.
Meanwhile, in Australia, a major coal and oil producer, both the national and state governments are targeting peaceful climate activists with punitive laws. A recent study by Climate Rights International has documented this trend in eight countries (including the U.S. and Australia) in great detail.
What emerges is a chilling pattern of powerful, wealthy countries who have no intention of stopping their expansion of fossil fuel production, but are instead resorting to draconian crackdowns on growing public opposition. This bodes ill for the likely state response to popular desperation and anger in the not so distant future when heatwaves, wildfires, hurricanes, and food scarcity reach catastrophic levels, which they inevitably will if these countries don’t reverse course on fossil fuels.
In the U.S. in particular, in addition to solidarity with Palestine and resistance to fossil fuels, the abolitionist movement against racist, militarized policing also faces extraordinary repression. The state response to the fight against a militarized police training facility in Atlanta best exemplifies this.
Authorities have killed a movement activist, Manuel Paez Terán (also known as Tortuguita), in what looks suspiciously like a targeted assassination, or at best a “friendly fire” accident, followed by an official cover-up. They have used overbroad conspiracy charges to target operators of a community bail fund, and about 60 other activists. The evidence cited for conspiracy and intent to commit crimes includes distributing flyers, social media posts, recording the police, writing legal support numbers on their arms, and using encrypted messaging apps such as Signal.
More recently, the conspiracy charges against the community bail fund collective have been dropped. It’s likely the state knew all along that the charges were baseless, but prosecuted them anyway, with the goal of intimidating activists.
This is the real criminal conspiracy: the State of Georgia and the City of Atlanta are conspiring to thwart expression of the popular will through official channels, and to criminalize protests.
The police training center, dubbed “Cop City” by activists, is broadly unpopular in Atlanta. City Council hearings on the subject have generated hours of public testimony, overwhelmingly in opposition to the project. Opponents of the training center have collected twice as many signatures as required for a ballot initiative to stop public funding for the center, only to be stymied by bad-faith legal maneuvers by the city to keep the measure off the ballot.
This is the real criminal conspiracy: the State of Georgia and the City of Atlanta are conspiring to thwart expression of the popular will through official channels, and to criminalize protests, effectively closing off all avenues for the public to have a say in a project that impacts them.
Authoritarian governments are on the rise worldwide, in Russia, India, Hungary, and elsewhere.
But increasingly, authoritarianism isn’t a feature of overtly authoritarian governments alone. Nominally liberal democracies are turning to authoritarian methods to crush popular dissent against the status quo favored by the elite. This status quo includes support for a belligerent, lawless Israel to uphold Western geopolitical interests in the Middle East, and unwavering loyalty to the powerful, politically connected fossil fuel industry.
This is highly relevant to our organizing today. Keeping overtly far-right political parties out of power (as French voters did recently) is essential, but insufficient. Recent events in France, where President Emmanuel Macron is refusing to honor the election results, confirm the ongoing threats to democracy even when the far right is not in power.
Movements for democracy need to understand, name, and confront creeping authoritarianism in so-called free countries, regardless of who is in power.
Having people who are uniquely trained and qualified to respond in moments of trauma or mental health struggles could mean drastically better care, support, and outcomes.
Imagine someone you love, your sibling, partner, parent, or child, has been struggling with mental illness recently, a reality for more than 1 in 5 people in the U.S. You’ve been offering support however you can, helping them find the right resources, doctors, medications, or treatment, saving up to help them afford it.
One day, they have a particularly difficult episode, and you’re afraid they might hurt themselves or even another person. You try to de-escalate, but it’s more than you can handle, and you realize you need help to ensure everyone’s safety. You decide you have to call 911, but you hesitate, especially if you’re Black, knowing police could just as easily hurt your loved one as help them, but knowing there’s no one else to call for support. You call and tell the operator everything, emphasizing that it’s a mental health crisis, saying everything you can think of to prevent police from responding with force. But when police arrive, they still perceive your loved one as a threat and make the choice to kill them rather than help them. The person you love, who just needed help, is gone, and you’re left forever wondering if there was something else you could have done instead of calling the police.
This is the reality for the families of Takar Smith, Marcus-David Peters, Tanisha Anderson, Miles Hall, Walter Wallace Jr., Eudes Pierre, Jada Johnson, Christian Glass, Ricardo Muñoz, Angelo Quinto, and thousands of others in the U.S. left with guilt, grief, and anger because police should not be the responders for a mental health crisis.
We are building toward a system of public safety that treats us with care and humanity, and we are doing so with a clear mandate from our people.
Ten years ago, the Movement for Black Lives formed around the imperative to address the violence policing imposes on the Black community. We’ve felt the pain of that first scenario, some personally and all as a community, and we’ve committed ourselves to fighting for liberation from being forced to experience that pain ever again.
As we enter our 10th year doing this work, we decided it was time to hear from Black people collectively across the country to determine what our people need from this movement next in our fight for liberation. We found some important and powerful answers. The comprehensive report Perspectives on Community Safety from Black America, in partnership with GenForward, surveyed a broad sample of Black people across lines of gender, generation, region, and partisanship in the U.S. on their experiences with policing and their views on alternatives for public safety and mass incarceration.
This survey showed strong, clear support among Black Americans for divesting from traditional policing in their communities and investing in public-safety alternatives, especially those that would center de-escalation, mental health support, and solutions that do not rely on incarceration.
The reality of that contradiction, paired with the overwhelming support for alternatives, called us to action and inspired The People’s Response Campaign. Through our new campaign, we’re shifting the narrative on what keeps us safe. In partnership with 20 Black-led organizations across the country, we’re centering public safety as a public health issue, advocating for non-police response to mental health emergencies, and engaging with the 2024 elections, especially on the local and state levels to prioritize ballot initiatives and candidates who support non-police, non-carceral public-safety solutions. Our fellows will work together to build Black political power at all levels and get us closer to a more safe and free future.
Think back to what you pictured earlier in this piece, but instead imagine that when your loved one experienced that crisis, you didn’t hesitate to call for help because you knew that your community had a mental health first-responders team, highly trained in de-escalation and support, who come instead of police. They even know your loved one from past interactions; they’re a familiar and trusted face that puts you and your loved one more at ease; you know they can help you both through this. They help soothe your loved one, discuss next steps with both of you, and come up with a plan to get them the support they need. They connect your loved one to accessible and quality care and resources to get them to the right medical facility. Your loved one’s difficult episode was just a moment in their life instead of the end of their life.
The People’s Response Campaign’s goal is to make that vision a reality. On a local level, we’re turning our data into action as our fellows campaign hard for resolutions in their cities in support of a non-police community wellness first-response system. Having people who are uniquely trained and qualified to respond in moments of trauma or mental health struggles could mean drastically better care, support, and outcomes. It will definitely mean fewer people in those moments of crisis will be killed by police when they need help.
On the federal level, we’re advocating hard for the People’s Response Act (PRA) alongside its champion, Rep. Cori Bush (D-Mo.). The PRA, directly inspired by M4BL’s BREATHE Act, emphasizes an inclusive, holistic, and health-centered approach to public safety by creating a public-safety agency within the Department of Human Health and Services—because our communities know first-hand what experts have found for decades: Public safety is a matter of public health. The PRA would fund programs for non-carceral first responders, trauma-informed healing, restorative justice, survivor services, harm-reduction-based treatment for mental health and substance abuse, and so much more. Our fellows spent just one day lobbying on the hill and already gained five new co-sponsors for the bill.
Lastly, our campaign will focus on activating voters for the 2024 elections. Major decisions are being made to take away our right to vote, to protest, to make decisions for our own bodies, especially at the state and local level. We’re pushing for public conversations and candidates that will enshrine our rights and advance progress toward liberation while also fighting off the emboldened white supremacist right wing.
The truth is that Black people in America desperately want to feel safe in our communities. Policing is the only option for public safety we’ve ever really been offered, so we’ve been taught to think the solution must be more policing. But we’ve tried more policing. Police have massive budgets, act with impunity, are given military equipment, and still we don’t feel any safer. In fact, the threat of the police against the people feels more palpable than it has in years as they attack college students protesting genocide, invest in new military technology to surveil us, and build cop cities across the country to train for urban warfare. That’s why when people are presented with real, viable solutions for public safety that don’t involve policing and instead address the root issues that create unsafe conditions, Black people eagerly support them.
We are building toward a system of public safety that treats us with care and humanity, and we are doing so with a clear mandate from our people. Safety that does not come at the expense of our freedom, our health, or our lives, the kind of true safety found in solutions that meet our needs and prioritize our humanity above all else. This year, we are answering the call from our people; it’s time to make way for a new system of public safety.
When we embrace the work of teaching and learning alongside students, we begin to build the future we want, together.
I started teaching as a long-term substitute—masked up—in 2021. Amid ongoing societal collapse and a mass exodus from the teaching profession, I was just getting to know the classroom.
Eyes bright behind a tight N-95 mask, I led a brainstorming activity, asking students to come up with lists of issues they might advocate for. As I circulated the room, a student asked me in a hushed tone, “Miss, how much money do you make?” When I told her $100 a day, she quickly scribbled “substitute pay” onto her list.
As teachers, we often imagine ourselves entering the profession to fight for kids. What’s less widely known is that kids are fighting for us too. In acts big and small, students are fighting for us—to learn more about them, more about ourselves, and more about the world we share. When we embrace this work of teaching and learning alongside students, we begin to build the future we want, together.
The classroom, the school, in all its imperfectness, is a perfect place to practice for the future.
But as I run toward the classroom, 600,000 and counting are running away. More accurately, they’re being pushed out. Teachers are overworked, underpaid, and forced to contend with systems so indefensible, responses so inadequate, and vicarious trauma so persistent.
Teachers are up too early and working too late for bosses who give too much money and data to corporations and not enough money to classroom libraries and building repairs. And despite the hard work of these teachers, so many student needs—academic, psychological, social, emotional, and material—are left unmet in schools.
The fourth floor hallway where my classroom waits for me each morning reeks of sewage and sometimes also of weed smoke. I arrive at 7:30 am, greeted by these smells. But I’m also greeted by the chorus of good mornings from students, who show up each day and breathe life into this unhuman place.
Schools—and the school crisis—reflect the world at large. A world that seems to be ending before our very eyes. Climate catastrophes displace millions of children and families, activists face life sentences for protesting Cop City, and Palestinian genocide is documented online, ignored by mainstream media, and supported by our electeds. It feels like the end of the world, like we can’t survive this way for much longer. Already many loved ones have not survived these atrocious, yet everyday horrors.
Schools, in their failure to truly serve students—yet their ability to perpetuate a mental health crisis, to control students’ bodies, to criminalize and police them—reflect the failures of our Congress, police state, and war machine.
To find refuge in our work as the world burns is hard to do—especially in an institution as flawed as our public school system. Just as folks organize to abolish the prison-industrial complex, there is also a compelling argument for school abolition. This thinking identifies schools as places that reward compliance and dehumanize deviance, seeking to mold students into workers, funnel them into prisons, and uphold racial capitalism as we know it. Schools, compulsory and sometimes harmful, are not always the best settings for learning. But teaching can honor the wisdom and autonomy of young people in ways that schooling cannot. Teaching can help us envision a future of education that lives beyond contemporary notions of schooling.
Given all this, I know that schools, like other institutions in this country, are worth resisting. So I fight the urge to get upset or feel disrespected by young people’s reasonable responses to a school and to a world that is failing them.
When a student criticizes me for not teaching enough Latine history, I could get defensive and cling to curriculum. Instead I seek resources, new information, and new skills and find ways to co-create a better next unit alongside students. I greet students knocking on my door 30 minutes late with, “I’m happy you’re here!” I respond to eye rolls and heavy sighs with curiosity and tenderness. I try my best to have firm boundaries and high expectations without being punitive or shame-based.
Teachers are only human—sometimes we meet resistance and refusal with bruised egos and combative one-liners. But when we push ourselves to meet resistance and refusal with love and trauma-informed care, kids can better access their education and in turn we can better access our own humanity and ability to care for one another.
The more I practice greeting young people with love and respect, the more it flows throughout my relationships outside of school—with family, friends, and neighbors. If I’m meeting students’ insights with half-hearted responses or false praise, they demand that I am present with them. As I practice being present with them, I become more present in other parts of my life. As teachers we take home the stress and the trauma of our schools. But we can also take home the love, earnestness, and lessons our students teach us.
The classroom, the school, in all its imperfectness, is a perfect place to practice for the future. Trusting and embracing young people’s resistance, interrogating our reactions and trauma responses, learning to respond to the reactions and trauma responses of others, this is the work of teaching and it is also the work of remaking the world.
To practice for the future in this way, we must experiment in and outside the classroom. I see these experiments, carried out by educators I love. I see them in my own school during roundtables, a practice that rejects high-stakes testing, and instead asks students to present their learning to peers and community. This practice reclaims how learning is measured and insists that it happen in collaboration with and accountability to community. I see my colleagues and students practice for the future with our school’s Youth Justice Panel, an experiment that disrupts suspensions and engages students in restorative justice processes. Their work insists that no child is disposable and that we can repair harm without creating more.
I see these experiments in my community book space, Possible Futures, where children go to read, attend poetry slams, and be around trusted adults. In protests for Palestine, where a student’s budding voice moves a crowd from chanting to dancing.
Teaching for a new world is not taught to us in teacher preparation programs, it’s something we commit to and learn together. We build these relationships with young people in schools and we practice them in our approaches to teaching, in third spaces, and in the streets.
As we continue to create more life-affirming ways of caring for one another, maybe school as we know it will adapt, or become obsolete. Teaching won’t. We will always need to learn from one another, to sing each other’s praises, to be present with young people, their insights, their ideas, and their questions.
And when thinking of the future feels like too much, I remember that teaching is a craft that can reduce harm in the present and help us be in better relation to one another, here and now.
So please, join me in teaching at the end of the world. Join us in this practice of refusal and reclamation. Invite your community into your classroom and extend learning beyond it. Reject harmful practices and reinvent the ones you know can take new shapes. Let young people call you out and resist the conditions that they know are unjust. Let the lessons you learn from your students permeate your life and relationships and families and communities.
Maybe it’s only a matter of time before I run screaming from the burning school building. I hope it’s with you—and with kids—into a future that burns much brighter.
Expanding the racist criminal justice system is a cynical GOP election-era ploy, one that has little to do with public safety.
Many Americans haven’t heard of cash bail. But the idea is central to an election year battle over racism, policing, and mass incarceration.
When arrested on suspicion of committing a crime, everyone in the United States has the right to due process and to defend themselves in court. But in a cash bail system, when judges set bail amounts, those who cannot pay the full amount remain jailed indefinitely—a clear violation of their due process rights—while the rich can pay their way out of jail.
A 2022 report by the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights examined the impact of cash bail and found that between 1970 and 2015, the number of people jailed before trial increased by a whopping 433%.
Reversing progress on bail reform is a new flashpoint in the GOP’s culture wars.
There are currently about half a million such people stuck in jails across the nation who haven’t been tried or convicted of any crimes. The report also found “stark disparities with regards to race,” with Black and brown men most often subject to higher bail amounts.
Thankfully, many states and cities are moving to reform this unfair practice.
In 2023, Illinois became the first state to entirely abolish cash bail. Other states, such as New Mexico, New Jersey, and Kentucky, have almost entirely ended cash bail requirements in recent years. In California, Los Angeles County has also similarly eliminated cash bail for all crimes except the most serious ones.
But in this election year, Republicans are rolling back these efforts—most recently in Georgia.
The state recently passed a bill expanding cash bail for 30 new crimes, some of which appear to be aimed at protesters, such as unlawful assembly. Further, it criminalizes charitable bail funds—and even individuals—that bail out people who can’t afford to bail out themselves.
Marlon Kautz, who runs the Atlanta Solidarity Fund, called cash bail “a loophole” in the criminal justice system, allowing courts to indefinitely jail people without charges if they cannot pay exorbitant bail amounts.
“Police, prosecutors, and politicians want a bail system that allows them to punish their political enemies, poor people, and people of color without trial,” said Kautz, whose fund has bailed out people protesting a massive new police training facility opponents call “Cop City.” Kautz was one of three people affiliated with the fund to be arrested on apparently politicized charges last year.
Reversing progress on bail reform is a new flashpoint in the GOP’s culture wars. “It could be a sign that Republicans intend to bash their Democratic opponents as soft on crime,” The Associated Press reported. Alongside Georgia, Republicans in Indiana, Missouri, and Wisconsin have introduced numerous bills expanding the use of cash bail.
Expanding the racist criminal justice system is a cynical GOP election-era ploy, one that has little to do with public safety.
“It is exceedingly rare for someone who’s released pretrial to be arrested and accused of a new offense that involves violence against another person,” said Sharlyn Grace, an official at the Cook County Public Defender’s office in Illinois. “Fears about public safety are in many ways greatly overblown and misplaced.”
“National studies contradict” the claim, the AP adds, that people are any less likely to show up for a court date if they’re released without bail.
Election years are a scary time for people of color in the U.S. They are marked by race-based voter suppression efforts, a rise in racist political rhetoric, and even a surge in racist hate crimes. The expansion of cash bail laws is yet another attack on Black and brown communities—one that must be exposed and confronted.
We shouldn’t let reform efforts fall victim to election year politics.
It is disheartening to see the very tools of social change activism used by the civil rights movement getting ruthlessly dismantled thanks to the self-interest and greed of politicians and corporations.
Six Decades Ago, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. led the March on Washington, turning the tide of public opinion and leading to the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
That legacy of protest and advocacy continues today but it is under attack, which is why we must be honest and critical as we reflect on the current status of civil rights and activism in the U.S.
As always, during this time of year when we honor Dr. King’s legacy and plan to celebrate Black History Month, we see a great deal of platitudinal quotes and simplified portrayals along with an underlying tone of proverbial pats on our collective backs for a job well done, for progress.
Dr. King’s life was tragically taken in Tennessee, and now, Sen. Marsha Blackburn, representing the same state, chooses to tarnish his legacy by undermining the spirit of democracy and activism that he dedicated his life for.
As an activist and community organizer, collective action in the form of protest was Dr. King’s primary tool. What would he make of the government reprisals we see across the globe against protesters? As a gifted orator and preacher, he used his voice as a catalyst for mobilizing people and shifting culture. What would he say about the proliferation in censorship and other tactics of repression and regressive policies?
We ask these questions because by doing so we are able to pave another path toward justice and a world that truly upholds the legacy of the civil rights movement. The attacks on dissent and free speech that we are seeing today are heartbreaking, but there’s also the tremendous will of people who refuse to give up, a resilience and staying power that is reminiscent of the civil rights movement.
Increasingly, protest is becoming a less viable instrument for social change and holding powerful entities such as elected officials, police, and corporations accountable. From the persecution of Cop City protesters in Georgia to the widespread attempts to squash civil disobedience, a strategy that Dr. King came to see as the necessary tool of the oppressed, we are witnessing a crisis unfold for social change organizing.
Thanks to the lobbying power of big corporations and police unions, hundreds of anti-protest bills have been introduced in the United States since 2017 in nearly all 50 states to interfere in the long legacy of American protest, with policies ranging from dramatically increased civil fines for protesters and criminal penalties for specific forms of protest.
Last week, Sens. Marsha Blackburn (R-Tenn.), and Thom Tillis (R-N.C.), introduced S. 3492, a federal bill that would create penalties for protesters who block or “attempt” or “conspire” to block public roads and highways. The “Safe and Open Streets Act” would essentially make the long-held practice of collective action in our nation’s history a crime punishable by a fine of an unspecified amount and incarceration in a federal prison for up to five years. The pretext of safety and open streets cannot overshadow the potential abuse and selective enforcement that is inherent in this and other anti-protest legislation.
The Equity Alliance, a Tennessee-based grassroots organization that works to build Black political power and where Tequila is the CEO, finds bitter irony in the fact that Dr. King’s life was tragically taken in Tennessee, and now, Blackburn, representing the same state, chooses to tarnish his legacy by undermining the spirit of democracy and activism that he dedicated his life for.
How far have we come if more than five decades after Selma, we are seeing protesters against Cop City, a multiplex police training facility in Georgia, being charged as domestic terrorists?
But this is not unique to the United States; individual freedoms are getting abrogated across the world. Countries such as Argentina and many countries across Europe are also seeing a steady and consistent effort by their governments to prevent people from speaking up, taking action, and putting pressure on their elected officials to listen to the will of the people.
More recently, we have seen a worldwide crackdown on protests against the war in Gaza, which also runs counter to the principles that Dr. King espoused around global solidarity. A year before his death, he famously made a speech at Riverside Church in New York City entitled “Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence,” in which he not only denounced the war but also the censorship of free speech. Moreover, Dr. King sought international connections and solidarity with movements for freedom across the globe from anti-colonialist struggles in Africa to the movement for Dalit freedom in India.
The ripple effects of right-wing repressive policies that we are seeing today along with the attacks on dissent and the severe injuries caused by the overuse of “less lethal weapons” against protesters would also be deeply disconcerting to him. The violent attacks on protesters by police forces and individuals invested in upholding the status quo would likely serve as a reminder of the brutality that came upon civil rights protesters in Selma in 1965 and the violence inflicted on Black bodies by white individuals for hundreds of years. How far have we come if more than five decades after Selma, we are seeing protesters against Cop City, a multiplex police training facility in Georgia, being charged as domestic terrorists?
Defending Rights and Dissent, a D.C.-based organization that works to strengthen participatory democracy and the right to political expression and where Sue is the executive director, has been tracking the settlements from police departments in the aftermath of the 2020 Black Lives Matter uprising. Police departments from across the country have paid out over $113 million to protesters that were harmed by police. We imagine this underhanded admission of culpability would be troubling to Dr. King because, on the one hand, yes, protesters have more legal recourse than protesters had during his time, but this is yet another reminder of the unchecked power of law enforcement and the continued and disproportionate violence inflicted on Black, Indigenous, and people of color.
And yet despite all these setbacks to progress and injustice, we believe that Dr. King would have been heartened by the millions of people around the world who refuse to be silenced. This is encouraging and surely a vestige of the influence that he and so many other social change movement leaders of the past set in motion for future generations.
Realistically speaking, we know the euphemistic arc toward freedom has been more of a zigzag line across history. The struggle for freedom and belonging is part of human existence; it is an unavoidable part of life. However, it is disheartening to see the very tools of social change activism used by the civil rights movement getting ruthlessly dismantled thanks to the self-interest and greed of politicians and corporations.
This time of year as we make time to honor Black freedom fighters, we must commit to a truthful assessment of where we are in carrying the torch of justice that Dr. King set aflame for the world and recommit to reigniting it by pushing back on all attempts to repress people power.
"Equating activism with terrorism is undemocratic and serves to silence dissenters," said Deepa Kumar, who analyzed how major U.S. media outlets have covered protesters of "Cop City" in Georgia.
A paper published Tuesday by a media studies scholar explores what she calls "one of the enduring costs of the 'War on Terror,'" mainstream outlets parroting police talking points on terrorism and "legitimating state violence while stifling democratic protest."
Rutgers University professor Deepa Kumar's paper—released by the Costs of War Project at Brown University's Watson Institute for International and Public Affairs—focuses on how major U.S. media outlets have covered protesters of "Cop City," Atlanta's proposed Public Safety Training Center just outside of city limits in Georgia.
"Even though the 'War on Terror' is supposedly over now that the U.S. has withdrawn from Afghanistan, U.S. federal and state governments continue to use and even expand punitive measures targeting those they label as 'terrorists,'" Kumar said in statement. "The U.S. mainstream media sometimes supports this expansion, and in doing so imperils U.S. democracy. All of this is part of the legacy of the post-9/11 wars."
As Kumar's paper notes, "previous research has shown that the mainstream media's framing of terrorism influences public opinion and shapes support or opposition to policies such as Georgia's 2017 terrorism law," which expanded the definition of terrorism to include certain property crimes committed with the intent to use intimidation or coercion to change policy.
The expert analyzed how a local newspaper, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, and six national outlets—USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post, The New York Times, the New York Post, and the Los Angeles Times—reported on the "domestic terrorism" arrests of 42 anti-Cop City activists from December 2022 to March 2023.
The paper details her findings:
At first, the national news media did not cover the terrorism arrests in Atlanta. The local The Atlanta Journal-Constitution effectively served as the Atlanta Police Foundations' propaganda outlet. In January, 2022 several national media outlets picked up the story when violence and property destruction occurred, following the "if it bleeds, it leads" framework. However, some newspapers adopted a more critical stance. The Washington Post, The New York Times, and the LA Times humanized the protestors, depicting them as concerned activists opposing police militarization and environmental destruction. The New York Post and TheWall Street Journal, however, portrayed protestors as violent Antifa activists and justified their arrest on the grounds of terrorism. USA Today adopted a sensational tone, in effect also justifying the arrests.
As the protest movement gained national and international support, national media paid more attention. All seven outlets covered the story in March 2023. Also significant is that The Atlanta Journal-Constitution shifted to a more balanced tone and included the voices of Atlanta residents opposing Cop City. Rather than labeling protesters solely as "outsider agitators" and "far-left" activists who exist on the fringes of society, the newspaper quoted local activists, civil rights groups, and clergy. This happened at the highpoint of government arrests, when 23 more people were indicted on terrorism charges.
However, the analysis also reveals that apart from a handful of notable articles in The Washington Post and the LA Times that tacitly criticize the wider application of terrorism charges evidenced in Georgia, the majority of the seven media outlets have deferred unquestioningly to government authorities in the use of this label.
"Government and police officials have portrayed the protestors as violent terrorists," Kumar stressed. "For instance, in January 2023, when Georgia State Patrol Troopers shot and fatally injured activist Manuel Esteban Paez Terán, also known as Tortuguita, they claimed that Terán had initiated gunfire. Shockingly, Tortuguita was shot a staggering 57 times."
The DeKalb County medical examiner's autopsy report "indicated an absence of gunshot residue on Tortuguita's hands," the professor pointed out. There was also an independent autopsy. The Georgia Bureau of Investigation later claimed gunshot residue was found on the activist's hands. Stone Mountain Judicial Circuit District Attorney George R. Christian concluded last month that the use of deadly force "was objectively reasonable under the circumstances of this case," so police will face no charges for killing Tortuguita.
Kumar wrote that "in theory, the media are entrusted with the responsibility of posing critical questions and disseminating accurate information to the public so that troubling practices like the use of state violence and extrajudicial killings are not normalized. In reality, U.S. media institutions have often continued to defer to government sources, reproducing and thus reinforcing the expansion of terrorism discourses to criminalize protestors—with sometimes deadly consequences."
Costs of War Project co-director Stephanie Savell responded to the paper by nudging journalists to do better. She said, "The media can make or break how activism is portrayed in an increasingly militarized era of policing that imperils our democratic rights."
The research comes after 57 of the 61 Cop City protesters charged in September under Georgia's Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations (RICO) law appeared in court on Monday, as hundreds of their supporters rallied outside the building in Atlanta.
"Among the defendants: more than three dozen people who were previously facing domestic terrorism charges in connection to the protests; three leaders of a bail fund previously accused of money laundering; and three activists previously charged with felony intimidation after authorities said they distributed flyers calling a state trooper a 'murderer' for his involvement in Paez Terán's death," according to The Associated Press.
Noting the RICO charges, Kumar's paper quotes a pair of ACLU experts, who wrote in September that the indictment "paints the provision of mutual aid, the advocacy of collectivism, and even the publishing of zines as hallmarks of a criminal enterprise. In doing so, it flies in the face of First Amendment protections for speech, assembly, and association."
This post has been updated with additional autopsy reports.
"The system has, once again, declared its own innocence," lamented one activist after a Georgia prosecutor's office said it would not charge the killers of Manuel Terán, better known as "Tortuguita."
Human rights advocates on Friday condemned a Georgia prosecutor's decision to not charge the state troopers who fatally shot forest defender Manuel Esteban Paez Terán—better known as "Tortuguita"—during a militarized January raid at a Stop Cop City protest camp outside Atlanta.
"The system has, once again, declared its own innocence," Stop Cop City activist Micah Herskind wrote on social media in response to the decision by the Stone Mountain Judicial Circuit District Attorney's office.
The Cop City Vote Coalition (CCVC) campaign said that "Tortuguita's memory and the memories of all those stolen by police killings demand that we all continue the collective struggle for a future without state violence."
Georgia State Patrol officers say they shot Terán after the 26-year-old Venezuelan activist opened fire on them, wounding an officer in the leg during the January 18 raid to evict protesters from the encampment protesting the $90 million, 85-acre Public Safety Training Center—widely known as "Cop City"—in the Weelaunee Forest just outside Atlanta city limits in DeKalb County.
According to a statement from Stone Mountain Judicial Circuit District Attorney Pro Tempore George Christian explaining the decision not to charge the troopers:
Terán... refused to comply with the lawful commands of the troopers to come out of a tent. The troopers used a 'less lethal' device known as a pepperball launcher in an effort to have Terán leave the tent. Terán responded by shooting four times his 9mm pistol through the tent, striking and seriously injuring a Georgia State Trooper. Six troopers returned fire resulting in the death of Teran.
"The use of lethal... force by Georgia State Patrol was objectively reasonable under the circumstances of this case," the prosecutor concluded.
A DeKalb County Medical Examiner's Office autopsy—which officials suppressed for months—revealed that Terán was shot 57 times and that there was no gunpowder residue on the victim's hands, which advocates say debunks claims that the activist fired first. There is no police bodycam video of the incident.
The Georgia Bureau of Investigation said that ballistics analysis proved a gun found at the scene of Terán's killing—a Smith & Wesson 9mm pistol GBI said the victim legally purchased in 2020—fired the bullet that wounded the trooper.
CCVC said that "from the start, the state's response to Tortuguita's murder has been to lie and cover up the facts."
"Today's announcement ruling the killing as 'reasonable' is just the latest in a long line of changing stories and withholding evidence," the campaign added.
Since Terán's killing, more than 40 Stop Cop City campaigners have been criminally charged as domestic terrorists, while over 60 activists have also been indicted under the state's Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations (RICO) Act—some for simply handing out fliers.
"These charges, like the previous repressive prosecutions by the state of Georgia, seek to intimidate protesters, legal observers, and bail funds alike, and send the chilling message that any dissent to Cop City will be punished with the full power and violence of the government," organizers with CCVC told The Appeal last month.
Friday's decision to not charge the troopers comes as CCVC attempts to get a referendum on the project on November's ballot. Although they've collected more than 115,000 signatures—more than double the number needed to qualify for the ballot—campaigners accuse Atlanta officials of voter suppression due to what they say is an onerous signature verification process created solely to thwart the initiative.
City officials are refusing to even start the signature verification process, arguing that the campaign may have missed an August 21 submission deadline. Although the deadline had been extended until September by a federal judge, an appeals court subsequently blocked enforcement of the extension, creating a state of legal limbo for the initiative.
Anger against Cop City is growing and not just because of the political repression being used against activists.
Georgia’s RICO (Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations) law, modeled on the federal statute designed to attack mob bosses, has been in the news a lot, ever since Fulton County, Georgia, District Attorney Fani Willis used Georgia’s law to charge former President Donald Trump and his associates with attempting to overturn the results of the 2020 election.
And with the news has come the inevitable hand-wringing about whether the RICO charges against Trump were a good idea. CNN (8/26/23) published an op-ed questioning whether the indictments were too broad, saying, “Casting a wide net can also raise serious First Amendment issues.” One New York Times op-ed (8/29/23) worried that the case against Trump was overly complex, offering him the ability to mount a strong defense by delaying the proceedings.Trump and his supporters are fond of framing the charges as a political hit against the ex-president and an attack on free speech, as if a mob boss can invoke the First Amendment when ordering the killing of a police informant. New York (8/17/23) did offer some valid criticism of the use of RICO laws, saying they have often been used for reactionary ends:
The immediate concern is its continued legitimization of RICO laws, which are overwhelmingly used to punish poor Black and brown people for their associations, not would-be despots like the former president.
But when a new example arose of RICO being used to punish the powerless rather than the powerful—coming from not only the same state but from the very same grand jury—such cautiousness was hard to find in corporate media.
With Georgia’s RICO law in the news because of Trump, the media should be connecting this law to the broad suppression of legitimate dissent in Atlanta.
Both indictments include protected speech as “overt acts.” That’s fine. But one indictment identifies the underlying criminal enterprise as election fraud and the other as political protest itself. The latter is actually seeking to criminalize speech.
Patrice explained:
If Trump and team actually conspired to commit election fraud by, among other things, inducing legislators to illegally certify phony Electors in Georgia, then otherwise protected speech acts like complaining about fake voter fraud can be overt acts.
In the Cop City case, on the other hand, “handing out leaflets doesn’t tie all that well to property damage” against the construction of Cop City because if “a conspiracy is limited to sabotaging construction vehicles, it’s hard to rope in defendants who weren’t buying equipment to destroy vehicles.”
In addition to the RICO charges, prosecutors charged a bail fund with money laundering and others for domestic terrorism. The indictment calls the protestors “militant anarchists” and incorrectly states the Defend Atlanta Forest group began in summer 2020, even though the indictment also states that the Cop City project was not announced until April 2021.
In left-of-center and libertarian media, the criticisms are there. MSNBC (9/7/23) called it an attack on dissent, and Devin Franklin of the Southern Center for Human Rights told Democracy Now! (9/6/23):
I think that when we look at the number of people that were accused and we look at the allegations that are included in the indictment, what we see are a wide variety of activities that are lawful that are being deemed to be criminal, and that includes things such as passing out flyers—right?—a really clear example of the exercise of First Amendment rights. We see that organizations that were bailing people out for protests or conducting business in otherwise lawful manners have been deemed to be part of some ominous infrastructure. And it’s just not accurate. This is really clearly a political prosecution.
The staff and readership of Reason (9/6/23) might not like a lot of the anti–Cop City’s economic and social justice message, but the libertarian magazine stood with the indicted activists on principle:
To say that the indictment paints with a broad brush is an understatement. Prosecutors speak about “militant anarchists” and their tactics, but also spend a considerable amount of time describing conduct that is clearly protected speech. “Defend the Atlanta Forest anarchists target and recruit individuals with a certain personal profile,” the filing alleges. “Once these individuals have been recruited, members of Defend the Atlanta Forest also promote anarchist ideas through written documents and word of mouth”; such documents “decry capitalism in any form, condemn government and cast all law enforcement as violent murderers.” (All protected speech.)
The indictment of the forest defenders is an escalation of previous attacks on free speech, advocacy and free association. Earlier this year, Atlanta police and the Georgia Bureau of Investigation arrested three activists operating a bail fund for opponents of Cop City protesters (AP, 5/31/23; FAIR.org, 6/8/23). An “autopsy of an environmental activist who was shot and killed by the Georgia State Patrol” at an anti-Cop City protest “shows their hands were raised when they were killed,” NPR (3/11/23) reported.
So one might think that even more sweeping prosecutorial action would arouse more suspicion. An opinion piece in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution (9/11/23) admitted that the RICO charges against the protesters were overly broad and thinly supported, making for inefficient prosecution. But the piece seemed dismissive of First Amendment concerns: “Civil liberties groups are howling, saying the indictment is an affront to free speech,” Bill Thorby wrote, adding that “so are the supporters of Trump & Co.”
The Above the Law piece linked above explores and debunks this analogy, but the statement exhibits the lazy journalistic trick of lumping Trump and social justice activists as two sides of the same extremist coin, suggesting centrism is the only legitimate political position.
Anger against Cop City is growing, not just because of the political repression being used against activists, but because the project is the product of police militarization, whopping spending on security at the expense of other needed services, and the destruction of forest land.
With Georgia’s RICO law in the news because of Trump, the media should be connecting this law to the broad suppression of legitimate dissent in Atlanta. While the prosecution is not going unreported, the urgency of the Orwellian use of state power is not felt in any kind of news analysis or in opinion pieces in the mainstream corporate press. At least not yet.
Research assistance: Pai Liu
"This movement cannot be won with a ballot alone; we must organize together for mass direct actions if we want to have a chance at protecting our community and saving our planet," said one of those arrested.
Five "Stop Cop City" demonstrators, including faith leaders, were arrested Thursday morning after chaining themselves to construction equipment at Atlanta's proposed Public Safety Training Center just outside of city limits in DeKalb County, Georgia.
The arrestees are Rev. Jeff Jones, a Unitarian Universalist volunteer community minister; Rev. David Dunn, a Unitarian Universalist minister; Ayeola Omolara Kaplan, an Atlanta-based revolutionary artist; Atlanta resident Lalita Martin; and Georgia resident Timothy Sullivan, according to the Atlanta Community Press Collective.
The Atlanta Police Department (APD) said in a statement that "those five people have been taken into custody and we are working with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation regarding charges on these individuals. Around this same time, approximately 25 people gathered outside the site to protest."

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reported that protesters outside the construction site of the contested 85-acre facility chanted "Cop City will never be built."
Photos shared on social media showed demonstrators carrying signs that said "#StopCopCity," "No Cop City on Stolen Land," and "The People's Injunction: Stop Work Order."
A notice protesters posted on metal fencing said that the people were shutting down the project for violations including "destruction of a forest, destruction of the public trust, polluting Intrenchment Creek, violating the will of the community, undermining the democratic process."
"We have tried to get justice in the courts, we have tried to get justice using our politicians, and unfortunately, they have betrayed and failed us," said Mary Hooks of the Movement for Black Lives, according to the AJC. "So when our government systems fail, that is when the people must stand up and take action."
"Anytime somebody puts their bodies on the line for the cause," added Hooks, "it was worth the risk."
The "people's injunction" to halt construction came after Georgia Republican Attorney General Chris Carr announced Tuesday that a grand jury indicted 61 Stop Cop City protesters under the state's Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations (RICO) Act.
Omolara Kaplan, one of the demonstrators arrested Thursday, said in a statement that "there is a war happening against protesters. If we don't stand up for our right to protest now, standing up in the future will be in vain. Cop City is in the process of being built and this can only continue if we allow it."
The protester also highlighted an effort by Cop City opponents to collect signatures for an Atlanta referendum to block the project—and the pushback from political leadership in the city, such as a related verification process that critics have denounced as a form of voter suppression.
"As Atlanta Mayor Andre Dickens fights against our right to stop Cop City via the ballot, we must continue our struggle to stop the project with direct actions like sit-ins, boycotts, and blockades," said Omolara Kaplan. "This movement cannot be won with a ballot alone; we must organize together for mass direct actions if we want to have a chance at protecting our community and saving our planet."