I moved to Instagram shortly after leaving Facebook in September of 2010, and never went back.  Initially it was a personal choice, but as I learned more about FB and their privacy and ownership policies—it quickly became political too.  As a result, I have actively worked to stay out of the FB ecosystem, steering clear of apps and programs (Spotify for instance) when they require a FB account.

Raising questions about privacy, consumer profiling and commodification, the blog ultimately ended with me questioning “how long I’d stay with Instagram,” given its new owner’s preference for dominion.

Now we have the answer, on Monday I deleted my Instagram account.

I deleted my account following the early morning company release of its “updated terms of service.”  I didn’t close my account because of Instagram’s new service agreements—they were hardly novel.  However, I did close my account because the front page attention the announcement generated  gave me reason to pause—urging me to take a deeper look at my Instagram account and the ways it intersected with privacy, security, social media and community safety concerns.

Yesterday Instagram recanted.  Now it’s saying it doesn’t want to sell users photos or turn them into advertisements.  In fact, Kevin Systrom Chief Executive at Instagram said, “it is not our intention to sell your photos”  and that users  “own their content and [that] Instagram does not claim any ownership rights over your photos.”  For some, this was enough reassurance to return to Instagram or delay account deletion. For others, it was too little too late.  For me, neither was an option–what I discovered demanded a different decision.

Despite the explanatory blog, it’s important to remember the service announcements from Instagram are hardly an anomaly. The truth is, most people don’t read the terms and conditions for online sites—they just click through on the way to the application they want.  If they did (and they should) they’d find that Instagram’s proposed changes are consistent with other corporate social media and online sites—i.e., Google, Apple, or Facebook.  Additionally, they’d be quickly reminded that generating a profit is always the goal of these sites, and that WE are the product that is being sold to advertisers.  This isn’t an ‘Instagram issue’, it’s the result of corporations setting the social media standards across their platforms of choice. Ugh.

But back to why I left Instagram.

I didn’t make copies of my photos before leaving—using services like Instaport.Me or Instabackup.  Nor did I export my favorites photos or order physical prints using services like Copygram.  I did however, take a careful look at the history of my account and the pictures it held, and this is what I found.

In the 2 years I had an account, I’d posted nearly 400 photos.  Most of the photos were innocuous—shots of buildings, traveling, food or architecture.  However, there were also dozens of photos of friends, family and community.  It’s here–among the photos of the people I most care about–that I realized the real privacy rights and standards that are needed across social media platforms.

A tweet, an update, a posted pic or ‘friending’ could be dangerous—even life threatening. 

Why do I say this?   Because amidst my 400 photos, I found the following:

• Many photos of minors—mainly nieces and nephews
• 8 photos of individuals currently on parole
• 6 photos of community members with mixed immigration status
• 1 photo of a woman who has an active Order for Protection against her husband
• 1 photo of a woman who is living in Transitional Housing while pursuing a VAWA asylum case
• 4 photos of children who have CPS workers or Guardians Ad Litem involved in their families
• 2 photos of individuals who attend services at “surveilled” religious institutions

These people are not strangers–they’re my family, my friends and members of my community! Some are organizers or political activists, most are not.  Most are regular people who had their picture taken and posted as part of a virtual archive of happy times and important memories– snapshots of our everyday lives, specific moments in time.

And though I work on media and telcom issues from a justice-based perspective, I hadn’t thought of how many of these photos could just as easily trigger a happy memory as they could a visit from DHS, CPS, a PO or an abuser.  Frighteningly, in addition to being used to “remember and share special times” these pics could also be used to stalk, manipulate, misinform, subvert or intimidate.

Some will inevitably argue that “safety” is as simple as  1) not doing anything illegal, and 2) not documenting it.  Not only is this inaccurate and patronizing, it dismisses the widespread and entrenched state sponsored physical and economic violence which already exists in our communities.  This violence is documented—infant mortality rates, life expectancy, unemployment, incarceration, illiteracy, out of home placements, etc.–but it’s rarely challenged or labeled “illegal” because of its relationship to patriarchy, racism and colonization (among other oppressions).  Clearly there is more to the safety equation for many of us.

In my non social media life, I’m aware of these how these dynamics play out and it influences how I keep myself safe, how my friends and family move through life, and the ways in which our communities work to build safety collectively.  If I’m this deliberate offline, shouldn’t I exercise the same level of diligence online?  I decided I should, or at the very least I should pause long enough to think about/talk about this with others.

To gain this space, I left Instagram.  It might not be everyone’s choice, but it’s the one I made. In its absence I want to create more time to think about political security (shoutout to Nijmie for the term) online, and what it means to fight for digital privacy rights that protect more than ‘consumers’ and our unhealthy relationship to Corporate America.  Instead, I’m interested in a movement building action-plan that advances a vision for digital rights and standards which build stronger families and safer and more self-determined communities.

I’m curious to hear what kinds of political insecurity you unearth as you look through your Instagram photos.  If you discover any, does it raise new questions for you?  Hit me up via the comment section, I’d love to start a real dialogue about what our communities need–and let’s just say it’s more than a boycott of Instagram.

Yesterday, the Board of Directors of the National Association of Regulatory Utility Commissioners (NARUC) adopted a resolution asking the FCC to address the high costs of prison phone calls at their annual meeting in Baltimore.  The vote–which formally adopts the resolution–comes one day after the Telcom Committee endorsed the resolution in a vote of 12-2, after hosting a panel on the issue and formally introducing the resolution titled, “Is it Fair for Families to Pay Exorbitant Rates to Call Incarcerated Relatives?”

Led by Commissioner Anne Boyle of Nebraska, the resolution calls for the FCC “to take immediate action on the “Wright Petition” by prohibiting unreasonable rates and charges for inmate telephone services” and encourages States to “take action within their power to reduce or eliminate excessive inmate telephone service rates.”

The adoption of the resolution comes one day before a National Rally for Strong Families and Safe Communities led by the Campaign for Prison Phone Justice at the FCC.   Campaign leaders planned the rally as a way to demonstrate bi-partisan and multi-sector support for this issue, highlight the voices of impacted family members, and urge the FCC to move forward with a Notice of Proposed Rulemaking.

Commissioner Jason Marks of New Mexico, one of the panelists and a leader on the issue, had this to say about yesterday’s vote,

”For too long, we’ve allowed some of the most economically vulnerable families in our communities to be put in the position of choosing between remaining in contact with an incarcerated relative or paying for food, shelter, and other essentials.   Regulating prison phone services and all the associated surcharges, which are look like monopolies from the consumers’ perspective, is ‘regulation 101.’  I’m pleased to be part of moving this along, both in New Mexico, and nationally.”

As many know, the FCC has struggled with this proceeding for years.   In fact, the Wright Petition has been pending at the FCC since 2003—a fact that has not gone unnoticed in social justice and media justice organizing circles  as families are forced to choose between a phone call and basic necessitites and corporations make billions!

The event included a welcome by FCC Chairman Julius Genachowski and introductory remarks by former FCC Commissioner and NHMC board member Gloria Tristani, as well as a roundtable discussion between FCC representatives and leaders of major Latino led and serving organizations—including the Media Action Grassroots Network (MAG-Net).

On the table were a wide range of Media and Telecommunications issues that impact the Latino community: ownership, diversity, affordability and access (to name a few) as they relate to TV, Radio and the wired and wireless Internet.

Also on the table was the issue of Prison Phone Calls—in fact, Alex Nogales mentioned it in his opening remarks

Some at the Commission have made strong statements about the exorbitant, predatory rates that phone companies charge the families of prison inmates for phone calls—an issue that disproportionately impacts many African-American and Latino families that can least afford it—indicating that a positive change may be within reach.

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.  Not only did it frame Prison Phone Calls as a Latino issue, it highlighted the powerful work that grassroots groups across the country have been engaged in.

As many know, MAG-Net—together with Prison Legal News and Working Narratives—leads the national Campaign for Prison Phone Justice.  Since 2010, this campaign has mobilized thousands of incarcerated individuals and their families, criminal justice and civil rights advocates, media makers and activists from across the country to lower the lost of calls from prison.

Earlier this year the leaders of Latinos for Internet Freedom passed a resolution at the National Latino Congreso calling for “Phone Justice for Immigrants in Detention.” And, in the past three months alone, MAG-Net members have conducted in-district visits in CA, NY, WV and MN securing the support of key elected officials of color like Representatives Rush, Ellison, Clarke and Lee.  Like us, they understand the burden that our communities bear to remain connected.

Additionally, we recently partnered with Participant Media, a film company that creates specific social action campaigns for their releases, designed to give a voice to issues that resonate in the films.  Participant Media has chosen the film Middle of Nowhere, to support our campaign.  This film, which AFFRM will release in U.S. theaters this October, chronicles a woman’s separation from her incarcerated husband, revealing the challenges faced by families in staying connected to loved ones in prison and the effect on both parties.

We also brought Mrs. Martha Wright, her grandson Mr. Ulandis Forte and Mr. Jackie Lucas–three named plaintiffs from Martha Wright vs. Corrections Corporation of America–to the FCC to share their personal stories related to the Wright Petition (Docket 96-128).  They were joined by Mrs. Viola Richardson (Lucas) who shared her perspective as a family member–but not a plaintiff– who was directly impacted.

Kleenex was passed around as each of the plaintiffs (now petitioners) spoke.  Each of their testimonies was unique, powerful, and deeply moving—and spoke about the sacrifices family members were forced to make, to be able to regularly say, “I love you.”

While phone rates in prisons vary, in several states it costs $15 for a 15-minute collect call.  Let’s break this down.  Cricket, for example, offers a $55/month unlimited everything plan for the iPhone–this means folks on the outside can talk as much as they want for $55 a month, while families communicating with someone in prison can talk for 45 minutes for the same price.  Laid out like this, it’s obvious that the cost preys on families’ desires to stay in contact.  It’s also a price that guarantees a hefty profit margin for the prison phone companies whose business models thrive off an incarceration nation.

Marginalized by a narrative that hides structural racism, poverty and its relationship to disproportionate confinement, Latino and black communities are unduly affected–left to pay a regressive tax just to “stay together.”  Doubt this?  Latinos make up 35% of the U.S. prison population and the vast majority of the 400,000 migrants currently in detention centers.  Of the 2.7 million children who have one or both parents behind bars—1 in 28 is Latino.   Though incarcerated or detained, these individuals all have family, friends, lawyers and case workers who want (or need) to stay in contact with them—and are forced to pay the monopoly rates. Ask yourself now who’s generating the profit margins?

As Latinos we understand the importance of family, it’s far more than just a shared bloodline—it’s a social and communal anchor that helps to define our aspirations, as well as our experiences and needs.  Consistent communication is part of how we strengthen our family, and by extension our community as a whole.  When this open communication is threatened—or worse yet, commoditized—we all pay the price.

Let me be clear—WE ALL PAY THE PRICE.

The Campaign for Prison Phone Justice offers an opportunity for our community to speak out against this form of corporate abuse.  This campaign provides a way for us to ‘knit’ our issues together—to show how reproductive justice, migrant rights, criminal justice, education equity and strong families and strong communities are all impacted by a through line which includes affordable phone calls.  We’re not asking you to set aside your other organizing goals, we’re asking you to link them together with ours.  The more connected we are, the more united we become.  Take a minute and join our Campaign for Prison Phone Justice and let the FCC know that Latinos care about this issue!

But can we count on that? 

Now, the FCC wants to know.  On Wednesday, the FCC announced it has plans to “measure the performance of wireless broadband services across the country” in a program called Measuring Mobile America.  Cute.

Alliteration aside, the test results could be interesting.  Turn on your TV, read a magazine, or walk through a mall and you’re bombarded with ads by wireless carriers bragging about the speed and/or coverage area of their network.  But how accurate are these statements?  If the results are anything like the “Measuring Broadband America” test (a similar test that looked at wired Internet speeds) then actual speeds might be only 80-90% of the advertised speed—i.e. what you’re paying for. Hmm, that’s not exactly “you get what you pay for.”

The carriers argue this is due to factors like nearby physical structures, distance from a cell tower, the time of day, the number of users connecting at the same time or even whether you’re inside or outside.  No doubt there is some truth to this.  But what is also true is that 1) the art of sale involves a great deal of manipulation and 2) advertisements are routinely full of exaggerations, over-statements and incomplete information.  Couple this with the realization that broadband access is now a necessity for everything from education and healthcare to employment and public safety—and you begin to understand why so many people are paying for faster speeds at higher prices.

While this is an issue for fixed Internet—the potential harm to communities of color is even greater on wireless.  Often due to price, nearly 18% of blacks and 16% of Latinos use cell phones as their only means of Internet access.  Most people don’t see this as a problem.  This is largely because the public narrative has shaped a story whereby communities of color are cast as the ‘leading adopters of new mobile and social media technologies’ and described as ‘leapfrogging’ over fixed broadband.

In other words, we’re hip and cool and people should buy the things we buy.  How’s that for played out advertising stereo-types?

Although aspects of this story are flattering—it’s also an incomplete and dangerous characterization that overlooks the role that predatory pricing, low digital literacy, redlining, and censorship play in our Internet experience.  Are we really choosing wireless as our exclusive on-ramp?  Or, have we been pushed onto a second-class platform—separate and unequal?  At CMJ, we’d say the latter.  In fact, with MAG-Net we’ve been saying that all along.

The FCC is planning an open meeting on Sept. 21, to discuss the new program—we’ll be keeping an eye on what happens, and we hope you do to.  With wages at an all-time-low and the racial wealth gap at an all-time-high, our communities cannot afford to pay for speed they aren’t getting. Especially, when it’s the only access point to the Internet for so many of us.

Tracey Rosenberg of Media Alliance spoke about the high rates of phone calls- a typical interstate collect call from a prison has a $3.95 connection fee (regardless of the length of the call), while rates per minute can be as high as $0.89 per minute.  Mark Toney of The Utility Reform Network (TURN) spoke about the other implications of current call rates, which are forcing families to choose between speaking with their family or paying for necessities like groceries and other bills.

Sandra Johnson from Ella Baker Center who works on the Books Not Bars campaign talked about her struggles as a mother in prison, trying to take care of her family and look after her daughter.  Studies show that for the nearly three million children in the United States with one or both parents incarcerated, hearing the voices of their parents can often make the difference between a child feeling loved – even while enduring incarceration- or feeling totally abandoned.  Staying connected also increases the chances a person leaving prison will successfully reintegrate back into society.

California currently is one of only eight states that have banned these kickbacks.  However, the lack of regulation on the federal level means that residents of California calling out of the state continue to spend hundreds of dollars a month to stay connected to their loved ones in prisons and detention centers.

Check out pictures of the in-district visits and stay connected to the Campaign for Prison Phone Justice by joining our campaign at www.phonejustice.org.

On August 14, a delegation of organizations from Charleston met with Senator Jay Rockefeller’s staff to discuss the high cost of receiving a phone call from a prison, jail or detention center.  This visit was held as part of a larger effort called the Campaign for Prison Phone Justice, a national campaign seeking to lower the cost of prison phone calls.  Organizations in the delegation included Advocare, Citizens United for Rehabilitation (CURE), West Virginia Record, and Senior Legal Aid.

The delegation petitioned Senator Rockefeller to send a letter to FCC Chairman Julius Genachowski in support of the Wright Petition (Docket No. 96-128), a measure that would make the cost of long distance phone calls from prisons more affordable.

During the meeting, members of the delegation shared stories of the repercussions of high prison phone calls. Keith DeBlasio, Executive Director of Advocare, shared how his mother paid 15 – 30 dollars for a 15-minute phone call with him and the costs were so high, she had to sleep in her van when coming to visit him.  Steven Renderos of Media Action Grassroots Network noted the need for Senator Rockefeller and other legislators to urge the FCC to end predatory phone rates.

Check out pictures of the in-district visits and stay connected to the Campaign for Prison Phone Justice by joining our campaign at www.phonejustice.org.

The delegation petitioned Representative Clarke to send a letter to FCC Chairman Julius Genachowski in support of the Wright Petition (docket no. 96-128), a measure that would make the cost of long distance phone calls from prisons more affordable.

Kym Clarke of FREE shared her story of organizing a successful campaign in New York that made the cost of local calls more affordable for prisoner’s families.  New York is currently one of eight states that has passed regulation at the state level to make these phone calls more affordable, but it doesn’t apply to long distance phone calls.

Pastor Will Seaton shared his experience doing ministry at juvenile detention facilities in Essex County, NJ.  He’s witnessed firsthand how youth are further isolated from their families and community by the prohibitive cost of the phone calls.

Check out pictures of the in-district visits and stay connected to the Campaign for Prison Phone Justice by joining our campaign at www.phonejustice.org

Like many people born in the Global South–who have been permanently displaced to the U.S–the long arm of globalization is intimately involved in my life.  In fact, my life in the U.S is the by-product of U.S. trade policy that capitalized on the poverty of the Global South to exploit our services, undermine our regulations, displace our communities and solidify control over our natural resources–while simultaneously implementing a level of corporate investment rights unprecedented in scope and power.  We were force-fed an ideology that promoted corporations as agents in the spread of democracy, but we knew better. 

Over the next decade, the Zapatistas helped to popularize a growing critique of the free market agenda of corporate globalization, known as “neoliberalism.”  At the same time, what started as a college internship turned into 10+ years of studying and organizing against neoliberalism within the U.S. and globally.  Nearly all of this time I worked in rural communities—specifically food processing towns.  The workforce was usually from southern Mexico or Central America, often subsistence farmers who had been forced North by the ‘dumping’ of U.S. corn in their markets.

These (im)migration patterns reflected the incongruity of a model of global economic integration, whose push-pull factors reduced the ability for sustainable livelihoods in the Global South, while simultaneously creating the need for cheap labor in the Global North.  Recruited by the food-processing companies themselves, the workers arrived in the Midwest to cut and pack chicken, beef and pork for long hours with little pay.  Together we protested Monsanto’s terminator seed, marched against the FTAA in Miami and at the 5^th ministerial of the WTO in Cancun.  Everyone wanted to return home one day, so our organizing was transnational.  We worked across borders to improve our lives in the U.S. and our countries of origin.

In 2004, I transitioned from rural organizing into media policy.  At first many people wondered what media policy had to do with globalization? Net neutrality, data caps, spectrum auctions and reclassification were abstract concepts.   What did that have to do with globalization?  “What happened to NAFTA, NAFTA we don’t hafta?” they asked.  For me the through-lines were present.  What I grasped was the way in which media and telcom perpetuated globalization–but this was hard to find, and unlike our fight in the rural Midwest, the messenger rarely (if ever) looked or sounded like us, came from our communities, or shared our life experiences.

But, I’m not interested in complaining about this space, I want to transform it!  There are many lessons from my organizing days with rural Indigenous communities that apply within the media policy landscape.  We knew for example, that no matter how complex or multi-layered, globalization had always meant the loss of languages, cultures, traditional foods, values, ways of living, and knowledge.  It’s also meant increased migration, urbanization, poverty and the homogenization of culture. We knew the media had historically been used as a tool of colonization and that our communities had suffered from inaccurate and incomplete representations of history.  And we knew the migration of entire communities North was intimately connected to the threats traditional knowledge faced from media monopolies and other transnational conglomerates.  Then as now, massive Free Trade agreements protected the patenting of life forms, funded GMOs, and monetized biopiracy—at the expense of our communities health and wellbeing.

As I enter a new program year at CMJ, I’ve been reflecting on how I can bring these two worlds closer together.  While I love media policy, it’s fairly clear that our relationship to Free Trade and globalization is relatively uninspired in comparison to “Down, Down WTO!”  And while I believe freedom of expression is necessary—I’m not convinced it takes precedent over a legacy struggle for self-determination.

At present I have more questions than answers, but it’s a start.

• How can we inspire action against AT&T or Verizon like we do with Cargill and Monsanto?
• How can biopiracy and genetic modification inform our approach to technology?
• What can a terminator seed teach us about locked phones?
• How can we get the FCC to be as widely known in justice circles as the WTO?
• What can the Global South teach beltway advocates about “Free, prior and informed consent?”
• How can we prioritize the rights of Indigenous Peoples and Traditional Knowledge when talking Intellectual Property Rights (IPR)?
• What can past experiences with the State Department, USAID, IMF and WTO teach us about how we engage with them on media and telcom?
• What did we learn from NAFTA, CAFTA and TRIPS and GAT that we can apply to TPP and ACTA?

No better time than the present.

As I write this, The Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP)–a massive international trade pact pushed by the U.S. government at the behest of transnational corporations, is moving ahead.  From July 2-10 leaders from the United States, Australia, New Zealand, Singapore, Malaysia, Vietnam, Brunei, Chile, and Peru, Japan, Mexico and Canada are gathering in San Diego, CA.  The TPP is another secretive, multi-nation trade agreement that could extend restrictive intellectual property laws across the globe.  In fact, it’s set to become the largest Free Trade Agreement in the world.  Frightenly, a leaked version of the February 2011 draft U.S. TPP Intellectual Property Rights Chapter [PDF] suggests that U.S. negotiators are pushing for the adoption of copyright measures which are far more restrictive than currently required by international treaties including those that apply to traditional knowledge and cultural expression.

Earlier this year CMJ and MAG-Net joined the fight against SOPA and PIPA, and for nearly two years we have been actively engaged in the fight for Internet Freedom.  Yet TPP (like NAFTA and the FTAA) threatens to undermine that struggle through secret plurilateral negotiations that trump the inroads we’ve made domestically.   Our communities know what kind of Internet experience we want, and the healthy media and communications ecosystem we deserve.   As with rural organizing, we should be addressing this issue at both ends of the spectrum, working for a common set of standards that improve the wellbeing of our communities of origin and the countries in which we live.  Its not a terminator seed, but our vision is needed as much in the world of media and telcom trade as it is at the FCC or Public Utility Commissions.  In fact, given our long legacy of transnational organizing, our voices are not only critical—our worldview is what will make the difference.

While there is a lot to unpack, there are two pieces I believe should be on the radar of the media justice community

1:  Bio-Piracy and TPP’s intellectual property standards including corporate appropriation of natural biological materials, genes and traits, and the traditional knowledge of indigenous peoples.

2:  Internet Freedom and the possibility that TPP may incorporate language that favors corporate interests, and which could result in enforcement action against Internet users

More to come, stay tuned.

In the world of movement-building this is common.  Community events often start with narrative based introductions as we acknowledge the shoulders we stand on—the people who’ve shaped us, named us, taught us where we’ve come from, and remind us where WE (as a people) are going.   We share personal and community stories because we believe that social identity and cohesion are essential to building political solidarity—and we recognize stories are political tools that transmit culture and identity, identify issues and inspire vision and strategy for social change.  We begin by listening—understanding the stories we hear as the starting point for political change.

Brain research supports our approach—showing that humans think in narrative structures.  Ideas shared in a ‘story form’ are absorbed more naturally into the human brain than those explained with logic and analysis. Science now shows that narratives activate parts of the brain beyond the “classical language” regions– suggesting vivid narratives have the power to create mental scenes that not only shape how we think about ourselves, but how we behave.  Science aside–organizers and cultural workers have long known that stories create a sense of identity, build a peoples’ sense of community, and strengthen the emotional connections among people that create a sense of shared purpose.

Last week my colleague Steven Renderos and I took to the Hill to talk to members of Congress about the high cost of phone calls from prisons and detention centers.  Our visits were part of a collaborative effort, which includes a number of national Civil Rights organizations and public interest media policy groups. As we made our way from office to office, I was reminded of the power of storytelling as a way to transmit digestible information about complex issues into the halls of Congress.  And how a “powerful story” has as much power to get policymakers to make critical change as the heavily footnoted report.

Powerful stories bring members of Congress into the lives of their constituents.  They create a narrative structure that allows these leaders to hear how policy impacts real people in their everyday lives.  The stories of the challenges and community-defined solutions can be valuable resource to help policymakers craft and change the rules and regulations that impact our lives.   At CMJ, this is what we mean when we say we want a policymaking process that is people-centered and community-based. 

Storytelling makes our advocacy smarter! Our MAG-Net members know what works and what doesn’t work in their communities.  By carrying their stories to DC, we help policymakers understand the human impact of their policy decisions. Through our campaigns we demonstrate the importance of gathering information directly from local communities—prioritizing the voices of communities historically and systematically left out of the decision-making process.

Without an understanding of how our communities are affected, our leaders will continue to create uninformed policy.  For marginalized communities, we know this means BAD POLICY.  Through the Right to Call Home Campaign we will continue to share real stories from real people impacted by the predatory prices of prison and detention phone calls.  With your help our stories will make it into the public register.  Our voices will be heard at Congress and the FCC.  Together we’ll demonstrate the impact of policies that sacrifice people for profits—and collectively we’ll tell our story of the right to communicate in an incarceration nation.

Fast forward to last week’s Knowledge Exchange.  A few things have changed; my first experience at a Knowledge Exchange humbled me to learn what all of those technical terms meant so that I could always contribute in the discussion.  And I’ve learned that these discussions about media policy need to be tied to actual changes that will fundamentally alter the lived experience of people at the grassroots level.

What does E-Rate reform mean to the youth I worked with on a mural project?  How does broadband build out affect the rural communities I organized around affordable housing?  Why does “net neutrality” matter for immigrant youth pushing for the DREAM Act?

This time around, Center for Media Justice and Consumers Union, hosted a Knowledge Exchange with a very specific task: to draft a wireless bill of rights that protects the interest of communities of color.  The timing is important.   More Latinos and African Americans are depending on their cell phones for Internet access.  Wireless Broadband (aka the Internet through a cell phone or hot spot) is mostly unregulated.  And right now, your right to digital privacy is more of a question than a foregone conclusion.  We’re seeing how wireless technology is being used to collect data on where you’re going, what you’re shopping for, who you’re with, etc.

It’s because of this critical moment that we gathered 17 grassroots and media policy leaders to craft a document grounded in the lived experiences of communities of color and that asserts our vision of rights for wireless technology.  This time around the notes scribed to the wall included words like “Domination” “Exploitation” “Militarization” “Oppression”.  Collectively the group came up with 10 rights that lay out a future for wireless rights that in the best-case scenario will alter the material conditions of communities of color and at worst will do no harm.

This summer we’ll be sharing this Wireless Bill of Rights with organizations at the grassroots and asking them to host a community dialogue about our wireless rights.  If you’re interested in hosting a conversation then please email me at steven@centerformediajustice.org.