I’ve never had any justice; I’ll never have any peace. Still, I rise …
Hope for the survival and thrival of all human beings remains as long as we are still able to rise from the injustices. The post I’ve never had any justice; I’ll never have any peace. Still, I rise … appeared first on San Francisco Bay View.
A letter from Tremayne Carroll
To whom it should concern,
I am a trans woman who recently settled a case with CDCr for $50,000, in which it should have been $500,000. However, I had no attorney, and they made 6450 pages of 6500 for attorney’s eyes only, and wouldn’t allow me to view video footage of the 142 times officers and CDCr staff came to my cell for security checks. I was unable to name the other 40 or so defendants as a result of the circumvent tactic.
In discrimination for me being a trans woman whose hearing and mobility is impaired and in retaliation for me reporting being the victim of employee sexual misconduct, I was handcuffed and left in my wheelchair in my cell in ad-seg for three days. All of this is on video.
I’m on my 24th year of 25-to-life for a non-violent, non-serious aiding Grand Theft, under three strikes, in which the person I’m accused of aiding got probation. My two prior strikes are from one juvenile conviction. With my signature, I give you permission to publish any parts of this, my cases Carroll v. Toele, et al, and Armstrong v. Newsom, where I’m inmate number one.
Happy New Year, hopefully,
Born with boy parts and a girl’s heart, and a confused mind was how life began. There were no dolls nor makeup nor dresses for an only child. My mom was extremely beautiful but she was an athlete who loved all sports. I inherited this love of sports and became a standout student-athlete throughout my youth. At the same time, from ages 5 to 14, I was being molested by my stepmom.
From Saint Francis Hospital in Lynwood, Calif., I was taken to the Avalon Gardens housing projects, the very first Crip set, shortly after my birth on Aug. 8, 1973. Initially, my neighborhood chose me – eventually, I chose it. It identified me, so I had to identify with it. There was no choice.
By design, I ended up a ward of the state and landed in the juvenile justice system. While still shining at sports and appearing to be shining in the game, I was being molested by LA County Probation staff and California Youth Authority (CYA) staff as I was bounced from Los Padrinos Juvenile Hall, Central Juvenile Hall, Sylmar Juvenile Hall, Camp Mira Loma, Camp Afflerbaugh Camp Mendenhall, Camp Page, Camp Kilpatrick, Southern California Reception Center (CYA), Fred C. Nellis (CYA), Youth Training School and a trip to the LA County Jail’s Crip module in between.
After a couple of college stops, where I played hoops and had a couple of kids over a two-year period, I was arrested for aiding Grand Theft property.
At RJD in San Diego, I was left handcuffed in ad-seg for three days. Months later, RJD staff directed an inmate to bust my head with a boulder while I was in my wheelchair.
This put me back in the LA County Jail at the same time as Rafael Perez and the rest of the former LAPD officers charged with murders, attempted murders, stealing evidence and planting evidence, and ties to the murders of Tupac Shakur and Biggie Smalls.
I was sentenced to 25-to-life under three strikes, although the person I’m accused of aiding got probation and not a single day in jail, and although my two prior strikes are from one juvenile conviction that I served time for in Youth Authority.
With almost 24 years already served on this case, I’ve served more time than all of those LAPD officers and all of the athletes, rappers, entertainers convicted of crimes in LA from 1990 to the present combined.
I’ve been on CDCr buses over two hundred times, up and down the state of California from Imperial City to Susanville between 1999 and the present, where I’ve been the victim of employee sexual misconduct (PREA) too many times to count, and received over 60 RVRs in retaliation for reporting it. Green Wall games.
From day one, CDCr has discriminated against me for being a trans woman, and for my physical disabilities ADA, while falsely trying to label me a snitch and a child molester (I have no history, no future, in either of those things, nor any sexual convictions).
At RJD in San Diego, I was left handcuffed in ad-seg for three days. Months later, RJD staff directed an inmate to bust my head with a boulder while I was in my wheelchair. There, I became inmate number one in Armstrong v. Newsom that led to six facilities having to wear body cams.
I’m not at CCWF under SB132, and the retaliation has not and will not stop, nor will the discrimination. CDCr’s BPH will never parole me, nor will they recommend me for recall of sentencing based on change in the three strikes law.
I’ve never had any justice; I’ll never have any peace. Still, I rise …
Order my book on Amazon, “Initiated: The Game Chooses the Players.” Hit me up on Jpay (email).
Send our sister some love and light: Tremayne Carroll, WB1153, CCWF 505-23, P.O. Box 1508, Chowchilla, CA 93610.
The post I’ve never had any justice; I’ll never have any peace. Still, I rise … appeared first on San Francisco Bay View.