Screaming at the Gates: A Reportback from the New Year’s Eve Noise Demo at CMF Vacaville

Report back on new year’s eve noise demonstration and rally in so-called Vacaville, California. To see a full roundup of noise demos on NYE across the US, go here.

In keeping with tradition, abolitionists from around the Bay Area converged on New Year’s Eve to hold a noise demo at the front gates of California Medical Facility (CMF), a prison in Vacaville that holds approximately 2000 people captive (mostly disabled, immuno-compromised, or in recovery, many elderly). The group numbered around 30-40 and was heard from inside certain parts of the prison, according to several reports. The entrance gate where the action took place was adjacent to a neighborhood, from which a lot of people came out to film and take supportive interest in the event. In between statements and words, we blasted music that echoed throughout the prison property and the surrounding neighborhood. Songs ranged from local classics such as “Punk Police” by Mac Dre to anti-police bangers such as “I Have a Dream, Too” by Dead Prez (a song that famously lists the names of abolitionist martyrs such as George Jackson, Yogi Pinell, and Ruchell Cinque Magee).

Two banners were raised on the fences by the prison entrance; one read “FUCK CDCR”, the other “FREE THE PEOPLE/FREE THE LAND/BURN THE PLANTATION”. The banner colors were red, black and green on an off-white banner, to show appreciation both for our New Afrikan comrades in the prison, and to draw connections between the struggle against the U.S. white supremacist settler State and resistance to the genocidal Zionist occupation of Palestine. We added pink to the banners to signify solidarity with queer and trans prisoners in CDCR, and solidarity with the survivors of FCI Dublin (another scandalous Bay Area prison). Some of the prison’s signs were redecorated with marker.

Speeches were made through a megaphone and wheeled sound system. People who have been involved in support efforts for some comrades imprisoned at CMF shared about the conditions inside this specific facility. Echoing across the premise, they recited facts such as an account of the recent string of targeted raids conducted by a group of guards, who have been planting drugs and items deemed contraband in the cells of Black and Brown prisoners.

Attention was also brought to particular violations of Black women in the visiting rooms, with cops forcing women who wear wigs to remove them from their heads prior to entering for bogus “drug searches.” This, the speaker explained, is part of a pattern of racially-concerted antiBlack harassment in the visiting process at CMF. Black prisoners and their loved ones over the past year have also been frequently subjected to punishment for expressing policy-sanctioned and legally-permitted acts of romantic intimacy. One example in recent months is the suspension of visits for a Black couple as retaliation for sharing a kiss before departing at the end of a recent visit. This heightened control of specifically Black prisoners and visitors persists throughout the entire visitation process, amounting to a systematic attack on Black intimacy and bodily integrity.

Abolitionist organizers are preparing to begin a phone zap and focused campaign, rooted in the principles of autonomous direct action, that addresses these specific conditions by targeting institutional pressure points of CMF/CDCR.

Comrades spoke out in honor of Ruchell Cinque Magee who spent the end of his very long sentence at CMF, only to pass within months of his release. Cinque was the longest held political prisoner in the U.S. to date, imprisoned for 67 years and punished for his unyielding resistance to the prison regime. The speaker who commemorated Cinque also spoke about the past decade of a resurgent Prisoner Movement, which between 2010 and 2020 has brought into motion a decade of insurgency, prisoner uprisings and large-scale (statewide and nationwide) strikes that have dramatically advanced the trajectory of abolitionist struggles today.

With this resurgent phase of rebellion in mind, we are reminded of our departed comrade Cole, who answered the Oakland Abolition & Solidarity phone line when prisoners called for many years, and who passed in 2022. He was with us the entire day in the form of the Black and Red flags that he used to carry to action after action.

We decided to hold the noise demo for about an hour and then collectively bounce to evade getting stopped by Vacaville PD. We intentionally planned the demo to start when visitation was ending, so as to impact prisoners as little as possible and to be seen by visitors leaving the prison. Cars continued to stream in and out of the prison gate; some waving as they passed, others honking and cheering us on.

Two different people from the neighborhood came up to our group to express support and that they had loved ones inside of CMF. One person was on the phone with their husband and shared that he could hear everything we were saying from his location in the prison. Both people were very excited that we were out there and very excited to connect. Another comrade from inside reported they could hear us from the yard, and also heard someone doing donuts in a car on the other side of the prison.

Our emphasis was on reminding people inside the prison that if they take collective action, there is an outside movement that is working to support them. “You Are Not Alone” was the rallying cry and underlying message shared to comrades held captive in CMF.  We showed out not simply as a symbolic gesture of solidarity. We showed out to directly affirm, in person, at the entrance of this facility, that there is an existing support network of autonomous groups, people, platforms and community forums that can support them if they take direct action against the prison.

Whether it is the need for phone zaps to expose or challenge a particular normalized abusive practice, or the need for material support during collective actions such as work or hunger strikes, we have been diligent rebuilding a decentralized abolitionist network that can support such actions.

Actions like these are an important part of building a culture of resistance on both sides of the walls, wherever you exist in this carceral hellscape. Going out to the prisons for a noise demonstration means something no matter what, but it is a surreal kind of experience when you know people on the other side of the wall. We encourage more groups who work with imprisoned people, their loved ones, and other support groups to rally numbers in their networks this year, to continue building with others who have loved ones inside, and to organize noise demos at the prisons, jails, and detention centers for occasions beyond only New Year’s Eve. Think toward Black August. Think longer term.

At the end of the day, a number of people involved in the demo met to share a meal and reflect. Among those in attendance, there was an overwhelming sense of motivation and direction to seize initiative over the coming years, and push the limits of what is currently imagined possible with regards to demo-actions at the prison gates. There was a sense, shared by some, that we could have stayed out there for much longer than an hour.

For future consideration, we are calling on all to reconsider the potential role and function of demo-actions within a broader abolitionist anti-prison strategy, and to experiment with the infinite array tools and tactics that can be drawn upon when descending upon these gulag camps. We encourage people to continue re-building a revolutionary abolitionist movement in the Bay Area and beyond. Be safe, stay dangerous.

– some abolitionists