Support for Rod Coronado

Really, Really! It is true, Rod has already been released and just called me from a gas station in El Reno! He is on his way to us, and then will serve the last 3 months in a half-way house! There he can make his own food, visit us when he has visitation passes, work, and escape the sadness and violence within prison.
Rod called me on December 25th, and I asked him if Santa came? He said “yes”, and asked to speak with Maya. I thought he didn’t hear me, so I asked again. He again asked to talk to Maya. After she spoke to him for a few seconds, she screamed to me: “Daddy is getting out! Santa let daddy get out!”
We both started crying, it seems so surreal and I didn’t want to believe in anything until I actually knew he was well out of the walls of El Reno FCI.
And now he is, he is coming home to us, and we are thrilled! Our deepest thanks and love to all who have been with us through this difficult time. It is close to our turn to give back. We intend to do so for all those who need us.
We continue to send our love and prayers to those still imprisoned unjustly. We hold onto the hope that not long from now those kept from their families and communities will be returned, and until then, we won’t forget them.
I can’t believe it! Still…… there are not words to say what is in my heart; for my family, for those who cannot feel this joy for theirs are still locked away, and for those who hope and work for a better way with each step. Thank you, and we love you.
Chrysta
*This is just a little footnote: When I went to sleep on the 24th, Christmas Eve, I asked Santa for my husband back…. just in case he could deliver! HA!

Amazing how changing your point of view changes everything. That seems to be what is keeping Rod and I going these days. Remembering how to look at it all; trying not to be like the little mouse who is caught in the trap of seeing everything which is right in front of her, but remembering to soar higher like the hawk and see what is happening on a grand scale.
Maya pointed out a hawk to me this morning on the ride to school, it was wedged deep inside of a bush and appeared stuck. But no, it was merely getting breakfast. It had forced itself deep inside of a bush where a whole flock of little birds were trying to quickly get away. For a moment, I sat thinking how life can just be so fleeting. Once you are here, being a little bird, and then you are someone’s breakfast. It puts it into perspective again.
As our new home state quickly unravels into what seems economic crisis, I am firsthand experiencing it. I went to an interview as a server, only to be met with almost 20 others people dressed in suits, with briefcases, all interested in the same position. Wow. I keep plugging away, and I just know deep inside that something that is part of the story of Mama earth is happening. Like it or not (I must admit I do like this forced change from the economic models that have reigned for the last century), it is going to make life difficult to proceed as business as usual. Rod and I have dreams that remove us from being part of this rat race, but for now, I ,too, must pay for rent and all those other seemingly superfluous details. I, keeping my heart centered in knowing there is greater good awaiting us, continue to search for connections here.
Rod is still waiting to find out when he will be released. His counselor finally became so irritated with Rod’s pursuance of explanations that he wouldn’t talk to him. When Rod went above him, and spoke with someone else, his counselor threw a miny fit and told Rod when he checked in with him, ” Aren’t you talking with ** now? I guess you will have to ask him now!”
In more positive news, another person who may be in charge of his file now told him that she filed his material and that it should be two weeks to hear back. She said it could happen fast. I am not sure what that means, but Rod is not holding his breath. I think it was far too frustrating to expect that he would be out with the kids for the holidays and then be sitting there months after the fact. So, now he has released the idea of early release. We are just waiting, patiently, to hear good news. It would be a great present for us all to have him here with us!
In our perspective, this little amount of time if nothing in the grand scheme of life and destiny. Our hearts go out to those who face much larger amounts of time away from those they love, and those who are being bombarded by the wrath of empire.
Rod just called while I was writing this, and he was cherry and witty, back to his usual good-natured self! He sends his love and thanks, and said be sure to say if anyone happens to ask if he would like a X-mas present, it would be “Tales from Beedle the Bard”, by JK Rowling.
Thanks for everything, and please keep your perspective from a high during these crazy times of change!
Love,
The Coronados

I am sitting here in my torn up home, boxes and random items loitering the space, taking a few breaths before I get down to it. We are moving from Tucson. These are the last few days before we get there, to the place where we hope to begin the next phase of our work. Work that will be about building a life that stands up to the failing paradigm.
I will arrive in the Great North by late next week, after a drive with two kitties and Maya and my close friend who is helping us make the drive.
We had our arrival date set around what was supposed to be Rod’s release date. He was told that he qualified for 4-5 months of halfway house time, and he would get the 5 months if he completed 3 classes, all of which he did at the moment it was mentioned. So, that was supposed to be October 24. The later of the two would have been November 24. which is why I am moving up north. Rod would be released to a half-way house in the same town, and we would all get to be a family with far less restrictions that those of prison.
But, as the story goes with all of those who have been persecuted during the green scare, Rod has not been given a date for release, and has been told that he is “a special case.” Special as in he is deserving of extra attention because he gave a speech? Because he has a clean record for all of his years in prison, no bad marks against him? I presume he is special because someone in the upper levels doesn’t want to let Rod out without getting as much out of him as possible. Regardless of what he was told he qualified for, or what his actions have been, he must remain there until they get what they want.
I won’t lay out our sadness at this. We are moving and will be there waiting for him. I could not bare to change our plans, and wait when we have all of this momentum built up about leaving. I feel like that affects a child very much, when she thinks she will see her brother and father and leave her current friends, school, and start anew. This takes a lot of mental preparation to come to terms with all of it, and then to put pause on it, and wait…… no, we will forge ahead and wait for them to let him go.
Rod is very sad, and I cannot say that I was much help to him. I actually exacerbated the situation as when he called me on his last $3, I told him I was sorry but that I couldn’t help him much since I was knee deep in boxes, coordinating last minute details, truck drop-offs, taking care of our sick daughter, and trying to get rid of the parasites I picked up in Mexico myself. (Isn’t that how transitions that need to happen always come? Met with many obstacles?) So, unfortunately, I told Rod that I couldn’t do much to help…. And that is what he is stuck with right now.
I have done more to help the situation to move along, but now we wait. And we hope that Rod will be close to us during the new year.
I sent a small amount to Rod for his commissary, since his payment is due again come December 1. But, he really doesn’t have much beyond that, and I am pretty locked up with the money I have toward the move and I do not have a job awaiting me. I feel sad that I cannot provide for him, but I am also trying to do what I must to get us there.
If you want to send Rod money for his commissary, I encourage you to do so. You will have to send a United State Postal Service money order, filled out with who it is from and be sure to put his name and #03895-000, on it. His full address must be on it, as well. It should be sent to : Federal Bureau of Prisons
Rodney Coronado #03895-000
Post Office Box 474701
Des Moines, Iowa 50947-0001
You can always donate to paypal, as well, and I can get a money order for him, if that is easier.

I may not have access to a computer immediately in our new home, so it may be a while before I get a chance to update the site. Thank you all for your continued love and support! It is amazing that I never feel alone, and I always know the community is taking care of us. My car is getting fixed by a dear family friend who is making sure we will be safe on our travels, friends are coming over to help load the trailer, and another friend is flying in from NYC to assist me in the drive! That is the world we are building! I send love and warmth during the Autumn celebrations, and hope that you have as much to be thankful for as we do!
Keep you love and hope coming to Rod, he needs it! If you don’t hear back from him, it is because he is out of stamps. But, soon I hope he is just plain out!!!!!
Love and peace,
Chrysta

Let me warn you, this is going to be a long one…..
Many, many, many thoughts have been whirling through my head. They come because of what happens in my life, like all of us trying to make sense of our realities. We experience and we synthesize all that is within and without, deciding what should become and what should dissipate. It is part of being conscious, the intention to manifest, to transform, to possibly transcend our gut reactions in favor of what may be better. So we play with all that is in our head, until we choose it to come out right.
Lately, I find that I am reluctant to write much on this website. There is no lack of information that I feel is important, there are insights and experiences that are also valid to share with people who are aware of what is happening to Rod and so many other folks. There is also a chill that is settling into my ability to communicate.
This feeling that remains in my heart is heavy. It scares me in a way that is curtailing what I say, to whom I say things, and it blocks transparency. Without saying, there is a time and a place for everything, and there are some things you should certainly keep to yourself. Even now, I feel myself censoring my vocabulary, afraid to use words like security culture, because I dare not link my husband to a concept. Because the concept is linked to a group of people, a group of people referred to by some as “activists”. Me, I refer to them as people. Like I refer to most.
If any general title were given to this group of people, I would say organizers. And that would include folks from all over the spectrum that organize, whether it be organize cooperatives, organize community dinners, organize a household, organize a garden, or organize a bike ride. Do I consider myself an organizer? Well, proud to say: yes, I do.
I organize 24 little people every day at a children’ center, and actively help organize their interpretation of justice, of responsibility, of equality, and where their sleeping mats are placed each day. It’s very radical work.

I went to visit Rod last weekend. I met my step-son and his mom in Oklahoma City last Thursday, and we spent three days visiting with Rod, and having a very powerful, exciting, and loving weekend. There was not a negative aspect to the trip, besides the fact that Rod is in prison and that is a horrible and depressing experience. We must all step over that stone (or wall) each time we are together, we must let that pain subside and move into the place where we can laugh and feel the warmth of our family. And I see us do it with grace, time and time again. I see two children who are not damaged by this experience because they are surrounded with such love and intention; children who will remember how to overcome struggle and fear with the power of love.
I hear a man speak to his wife, and his children, and the mother of his son, with love and hope. After years of government persecution, and years of walking within iron walls, he is able to dissolve the persona he must wear in the prison, where violence is king, and come to us with vulnerability and gentleness. He remains a warrior. Can I use that word?
I do not use that word to inflame his name. I use it to say he is a warrior of the light. He believes there is something more powerful than what they take from us. They take our days, our sacred time, but they cannot take our knowledge of the truth. What we know in our hearts, which is that believing in and working toward a better world is not a threat, it is our responsibility.

When Rod is released from prison, he has requested to be released some where different than Arizona. He has requested to be allowed to move where his son lives, so that we may go and try to lead an existence that is semi-normal. We whole-heartedly want to be together so that Maya is with her brother, and we are with both of our kids, and that his son gets to have his daddy. Our plans are just that, honest and true.

In order for his release to another location than Tucson to be allowed, there is much leg-work to be done. This includes a probation officer visiting and verifying that there is a reason for allowing a release to this location, and a concrete address and person that will vouch for him. This visit has happened, and during it, some startling insinuations were made regarding Rod’s true intentions, and mine, as well. It appears that some three-lettered agencies don’t want this to happen. It appears that my very intentions are in question, as well. It was also suggested that if Rod is really, “done with activism” then why am I soliciting activists for money? Am I not aware of where the money is coming from? Well, it certainly is not coming from my husband whom is a political prisoner, and it is also not coming from those that have taken him from his family.

It comes from people, like all of you, whoever you are, and yes, I do know who some of you are, and I love you. It comes from people like Robert Meeropol, who founded the Rosenberg Fund for Children as an adult, because at the age of six his parents, Ethel and Julius Rosenberg were murdered for alleged espionage. In 1990 Meeropol began work on his lifelong dream, The Rosenberg Fund for Children. The Fund supports children of injured, harassed, or imprisoned activists, as well as targeted youth-activists. They provide things like counseling, music lessons, tuition, and summer camp for young people who have felt the horror of political imprisonment and persecution in their families. The Rosenberg Fund has helped kids including Judy Bari’s daughter and Mumia Abu Jamal’s son. It is the only organization of its kind dedicated to protecting the voices and actions of families in the political realm.
They funded our entire trip to see Rod this past weekend. I am grateful and humbled to receive this gift from someone who has endured such tragedy and loss, but remained in light, and continued to serve where there is such a need.

Yet, there is a subtle warning in the words spoken by the probation officer. Am I not allowed to organize if I want to raise a family that includes my step-son? Must I accept the terms of fear and silence? I cannot. That is against my spirit and my design. I can only persevere in truth, with compassion. My life, which is so damn privildged, recognizes that no one is silent, though many are not heard. My voice must work to change that. I cannot be silenced because of fear. My words will not promote violence, or suffering, but may challenge the paradigm which empire enforces.

This weekend I went to an event for another person who is a political prisoner. Watching the presentation on Eric McDavid sent chills throughout my entirety. It was haunting. It was heartbreaking to hear another person who shares the deep loss that I feel. It was scary to see what lies beneath the persecution of him, which is his philosophy. To see the video tape from FBI cameras in the car he rode in, to watch video from the cabin where he was with “friends”. Terrifying how silly conversations about movies were manufactured into “revolutionary” talks. He wasn’t given bail in part because he didn’t have a cell phone! It reminded me of the constant surveillence that surrounds our lives. How real that is in my life.

Robert Meeropol wrote a statement following the release of the transcript of 43 of 46 witnesses who appeared in front of the Grand Jury investigating his parents. The release of the documents coincided with an interview in the New York Times with Mort Sobell, his parents co-defendant. In last weeks interview, he admitted that he, along with Julius Rosenberg passed along non-atomic military intelligence to the Soviets during WWII, in an effort to defeat the Nazi’s. From all that was released, it is clear that Ethel Rosenberg was not involved in this passing of information, and that although there was passing of military information, Julius did not “steal” or transmit the “secret of the Atomic Bomb”, for which he was executed. Robert says that the biggest lesson be taken by his parents case is the the U.S. government abused it’s power in truly dangerous ways that are still very relevant today. He says they:
*created and fueled anti-communist hysteria
*capitalized on that political climate by targeting his parents, then making them the focus point of the public’s Cold War-era fear and anger
*Facilitated Judicial Misconduct
*Hounded witnesses for their political beliefs and associations rather than about alleged illegal activity
*Used the ultimate weapon- the threat of death- to try to extort cooperation
*Used Ethel as leverage to try to get Julius to cooperate
*Created the myth that there was a “secret” of the Atomic Bomb
*Executed Julius when he refused to cooperate
*Executed Ethel when she refused to cooperate, despite knowing that she was innocent.

All of these thoughts are in my head, my heart. I want to protect my family. I want to live in the North Woods, and spend my step-sons young years together. I am diligent about my commitment to walking peaceful footsteps. Sometimes it is violent to remain silent.

Tonight, probably because of all the election hype, I rented Bobby. It is a movie about the day Robert Kennedy was shot, a commentary on the state of the U.S. in 1968. The Kennedy’s are highly questionable in my mind, but Bobby’s rhetoric is pretty right on (although I find myself wanting to change all of the references to “man”, to “people”). So I close tonight with some poignant words from someone who may have really stood for something. I wish Obama spoke like that.

The Menace of Violence

“What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr’s cause has ever been stilled by an assassin’s bullet.

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.

Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.

Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.

This is the breaking of a man’s spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children’s future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land.”

It is past the three month mark for Rod, and it seems like forever since he went in. Perhaps it was too familiar of an experience since it was only one year before that Rod had been released, and I just slipped into the routine that I developed to cope with all of the things that arise without the presence of your partner in your life. It doesn’t make it easier, per say, but the trails are visible.

My daughter and I are moving through life without him here, though there is not a day that passes where we don’t talk about him, and long for him.  It was a sad reminder of the distance between us when he called and it happened to be Maya’s first day of school, and he didn’t even know since we barely even get to talk. He is on a very strict monitoring program that only permits him to call during certain hours. With our time zone differences and my work schedule, we are lucky to speak for 15 minutes twice a week. He is not permitted to call on weekends.

When I hear his voice, I am filled with happiness, and we spend most of the time just quickly checking in, covering details that may need to be dealt with, and by the time we are relaxed and can begin to engage in a deeper conversation, the beeps start, indicating that our 15 minutes are up. We barley had a chance to connect, and then I know it will be another few days until I hear him again.

He is sounding depressed. He says it is just low energy, but I know it stems from our last visit. When we were all together, laughing, connecting, loving how people should. It was extremely difficult for him to transition back to relationships behind the iron bars. Even the power of our future dreams seem watery and illusive to him. He does not say this, for my sake, but I can tell it is wearing on him.

I always compare Rod to the moon. He has a definite cycle that waxes and wanes just like mother moon. I realize it is part of his experience to feel this low point, and there will be change, and he will regain a balance in that place. (I prefer to not use any adjectives to describe it, don’t want to add to the negativity).

He is worried, too, about his finances. Rod has a debt to the government regarding the mountain lion case, and he has to make payments monthly while he is under probation, and in prison. He was making payments all the while he was out, but the government put it toward his federal debt instead of putting it toward the state debt. Now they want to take a large chunk from his commissary fund. Unfortunately, Rod never has a big commissary because I can never send him more than 100 $ whenever I have it. He never complains, but I know it is difficult, because there are times when he cannot call us, or his son because he doesn’t have the money.

He needs $200 in the commissary account by September 1, or else it will be against him come the time to evaluate him for halfway house time.

I am able to send maybe $50- $100, and I wish I could send him it all since I understand the consequences.

If you have an extra $10, $20, whatever the amount, and you want to donate to his commissary, please do!

If you want to donate money, send a USPS money order (from the US Post office) to the following address:

Federal Bureau of Prisons
Rodney Coronado #03895-000
Post Office Box 474701
Des Moines, Iowa 50947-0001

or if it is easier, send it through paypal, and I will get it to him asap.

Thank you, I am hoping for really good news soon.

Like the moon, who disappears into the dark night and leaves us to fumble for a short time, she will return to illuminate our way!

With love, and hope!

Chrysta