I told Helen that we would leave as soon as it got dark. But night would not shake off the day that kept clinging to its edges. We waited. Silently. Hidden behind drawn curtains, we listened to the street noises coming through the slightly opened balcony window. Each time a car slowed down or stopped, each time footsteps tapped the pavement outside, I held my breath — wondering whether we might have waited too long.

They all explained that they had been driven by necessity to apply for this kind of job. Apparently it was one of the highest-paying jobs in New York that did not require a college education. In a way, these officers were prisoners themselves, and some of them were keenly aware that they were treading ambiguous waters. Like their predecessors, the Black overseers, they were guarding their sisters in exchange for a few bits of bread. And like the overseers, they too would discover that part of the payment for their work was their own oppression. For example, overtime was compulsory. And because of the military discipline to which they were forced to submit, failure to work overtime was punishable as insubordination. Sixteen-hour workdays, a few times a week, were never out of the ordinary for the young officers who held no seniority, and for the older ones who weren't well-liked in the top echelons of the jail hierarchy.

One evening, after lock-up, a loud question broke the silence. It came from a sister who was reading a book I had lent her.

"Angela, what does 'imperialism' mean?"

I called out, "The ruling class of one country conquers the people of another in order to rob them of their land, their resources, and to exploit their labor."

Another voice shouted, "You mean treating people in other countries the way Black people are treated here?"

As my stay in the House of Detention was drawing to a close, a number of women's groups in New York began to organize a bail fund for the women inside the House of Detention. There were women who spent months in jail simply because they didn't have fifty dollars to make their bail. As this work was being accomplished outside, there was organizing going on within. The problem was to prevent the bail fund from becoming just another service organization to provide bail for women inside, much the same way as lawyers are provided by Legal Aid. We came up with an ideal solution: the women who would receive funds from the organization outside were to be elected collectively by the women in each corridor. When a woman was elected to be a beneficiary, she would not only have her bail paid, but would have responsibilities to the bail fund as well. Once out on the streets, she would have to work with the fund, helping to raise money; making whatever political contributions she could to the development of the organization.