Sitting in an empty classroom, in the Education Department at FCI Danbury, while others are participating in Christmas caroling on the yard, I take time to reflect on the holidays that have gone by since I have been in this oppressed state�incarceration. I daydream of what it would be like if I were home: the food that I would eat, laying in my grandmother�s arms, sitting at the dinner table hours after having eaten and laughing at my dad and uncles throwing cracks at each other, and most of all seeing my son�s excited face Christmas morning.

It is unbelievable that this is my fifth Christmas locked down, not in the sense that time has been flying, because it has not. On December 12, 1994, while imprisoned, I gave birth to my son. Thirteen days after his birth, I spent Christmas staring at jail cell bars, partially understanding what our ancestors were forced to endure when torn apart from their babies in the Motherland. Longing to be home with my parents, to smell and touch my newborn baby�s skin, I wondered what my fate would be.

Today, I still wonder, because I refuse to accept the 24.5-year sentence I have been given. Still I have hope, and strength through God. The government would like for me to be bitter and angry; after all, this is supposed to be my "punishment" so that I can be an example to deter others from becoming a number within the system.

Becoming a voice for thousands of other first-time, non-violent drug offenders, I am sure is something they never expected. Thank God for my parents, and Emerge magazine for amplifying my voice and believing that I am worth fighting for.

Christmas is the worst time of the year for most people incarcerated because of past memories and the ones we would like to create. Fortunately, I have a soul that runs deep, and my spirit has not been broken, so even in the midst of my situation I still experience joy (however temporary it may be), and my mind is freer than most in society.

I won�t focus on self and my present situation, because the season is about giving to others and I want to give you the gift of awareness. Still, I represent many brothers and sisters who are casualties in the drug war, and all that I ask for in return is your understanding and action.

Please understand that I am 28 years old and have seen and learned many things while being in the system. Understand that I am not criminal minded, and I am a survivalist. Understand that I am spirit filled and fear God. Understand that I love my people�knowledge, maturity, and wisdom have shown me just how much. Understand that I have been thrown into an injustice that is bigger than just me. I am seeing other people who are no different from you or me, who are being snatched away from their families for decades or given life sentences for mistakes during their youth.

While laws should be designed to protect our communities from drug kingpins, instead, low level offenders with little or no involvement in the sale of drugs are being locked up for 15, 25 or 30 years. In fact, I know a 30-year-old Black woman, a mother of two girls, who was sentenced to 13 life sentences (funny her case is in Virginia, too). My point is, you cannot keep running away, assuming that we deserve whatever we get, or that we are heartless criminals.

With the entering of the New Year, I want to give you the gift of vision, to see this system of Modern Day Slavery for what it is. The government gets paid $25,000-a-year by you (taxpayers) to house me (us). The more of us they incarcerate, the more money they get from you to build more prisons. The building of more prisons creates more jobs. The federal prison system is comprised of 61 percent drug offenders, so basically this war on drugs is the reason why the Prison Industrial Complex is a skyrocketing enterprise. Many of its employees are getting paid more than the average schoolteacher. All of this to keep me and thousands like me locked down to waste, useless to our community because they want to label us a threat. We are treated as animals and dummies, as if we cannot learn from our mistakes.

For too long our community has ignored brothers and sisters who are sentenced under these horrendous drug laws. Even Judge Doumar, the district court judge for my case, stated the following in a recent denial decision:

" � In my opinion, the Guidelines represent a prime example of how Congress is sometimes unaware of the unintended consequences of its legislation. Instead of creating the uniformity in sentencing as intended, the Guidelines have created a gross disparity in sentencing, influences by the decisions of individuals. �"

Several government officials have publicly acknowledged that there is a problem. To name a few: Supreme Court Judges Rehnquist, Breyer and Kennedy, as well as U.S. Court Judges Terry Hatter and Jack Weinstein. When will our communities come together to demand a just solution?

Maybe my brothers and sisters along with myself on lock down are expecting too much from our people. After all, there has not been a real movement for decades. Why would Black Americans want to launch one to help labeled "felons"?

Hopefully, realizing we are someone�s daughter, son, sister, brother, mother, father and sometimes even grandmother or grandfather, you will begin to organize and recognize the importance of doing so for our future generations.

I know women here who are first-time, non-violent drug offenders who have already served 10 years. Ten years ago was when these harsh drug laws were adopted. I wonder how many years I will have to serve before our people demand change. I am already beginning my sixth year.

Get involved, get motivated so that our lives will not be wasted in vain. If not for us, then for your child or your child�s children or the future of our people and even this country.

(Kemba N. Smith, a victim of America�s misguided drug sentencing policies, currently is serving a 24.5-year prison sentence. This article was transmitted by NNPA.)

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