by Mike Vizcarra/PNN Community Journalist

There was a brisk chill in the air as I walked towards the Bechtel Corporation building on Beale Street. Armed with my camera, pen and paper I was ready to join the protest against the corporation, which was organized by a global network of women’s organizations. Today, of course, is Saturday, March 9, International Women’s Day and women have been organizing protests here in San Francisco for the past four years on this day.

As I approached the crowd, I was surprised to see the small amount of people who turned up for the protest. A quick scan showed about 60 to 70 people gathered. I have been to protests before but never something this small in scope. I definitely expected more.

When I arrived, Lori, the M.C., was speaking about the long history of crimes that Bechtel, based here in San Francisco, had committed, particularly against Bolivia. In 2000, Bechtel took over the public water system of Bolivia’s third largest city, Cochabamba and within weeks raised rates by as much as 200 percent, far more than what families there could afford. With the average family making the local minimum wage of $60 per month, they were charged up to 25 percent of their monthly income. When Bechtel refused to lower rates, massive citywide protests ensued which prompted the government to declare a state of martial law. Thousands of soldiers and police were deployed and more than a thousand people were injured and one 17 year-old boy was killed.

In November 2001, Bechtel Corporation sued the country of Bolivia, South America’s poorest nation, for $25 million dollars. They are seeking to regain the money they used to invest in the country as well as potential profits they lost. But Bechtel did not invest anything close to $25 million in Bolivia in the few months it operated there. The $25 million Bechtel seeks is what the corporation earns in half a day! Also, in one year in Bolivia, a country where 70 percent of its population is below the poverty line, $25 million can hire 3,000 rural doctors, 12,000 public school teachers, and give access to the public water distribution system for 125,000 Bolivian families.

Rachel West, from Every Mother Is A Working Mother organization, also spoke to the crowd. Every Mother Is A Working Mother is a national organization of women pushing for “caring work” (full-time mothers) to be recognized as a job. Her soft-spoken demeanor did not lesson the impact of her message. She also called for more money for welfare instead of war.

Chandra Redack, from the Global Women’s Strike Committee, sang songs to the crowd. “We want to get women to go on strike,” she says, “It can be anything from protesting to taking a longer lunch break to putting a broom out on your doorstep. Any form of resistance contributes.”

After the protest in front of Bechtel, the crowd continued to the Venezuelan consulate. From there, it was off to City Hall, where more protesters were expected to join, including Women In Black, an international peace network of women dressed in black who stand in silent vigil to protest war, rape as a tool of war, ethnic cleansing and human rights abuses all over the world.

As a writer for POOR Magazine, I can empathize with what families in Bolivia are going through. Poor folks have always been exploited; whether if it’s by a corporation or the government or law enforcement or any combination of the above. It does not matter where you live in the world. As Americans, we are sheltered from the global community. We do not see or hear, in the mainstream media, how people are mistreated throughout the world by corporations that carry the “American” tag. It is becoming clear to me that this is a global epidemic, far more than I imagined, than just a local or national issue. Perhaps I was too quick to judge the impact this small crowd would have. Chandra Redack was right, any form of resistance, no matter how small, helps.

by Christina Heatherton/PoorNewsNetwork Community Journalist

There was never any fire, but the toxic stale smell of singed clothes and carpet lingered in the apartment for days. A burnt brown shirt fished out of the smoky pile and held in my mom's tensed hand shook me out of my ambivalence. Things were not going to be alright. In our newly fatherless apartment, our lives lay in cluttered heaps on the floor. We'd pull out the appropriate articles as we dashed off, mom to work, sister and I to school, leaving behind unpaid bills, unfinished assignments, unwashed dishes, and uncertainty to be dealt with later. All the while, tension smoldered like the lamp we had accidentally left lit under a pile of clothes. There was never any fire, but for a long time, the disaster that we were always waiting on gained a persistence we could breathe.

Listening to the testimonies of the 6th Street SRO tenants last Tuesday night made me think of my family’s own combustible combination of poverty, stress, and electricity. An unusual coalition of 6th street SRO (Single-Room Occupancy) hotel tenants, owners, activists, community organizers, and developers congregated.. at the meeting of the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency, sporting neon pink stickers proclaiming “Listen to the 6th Street Community!” The coalition urged members of the agency to divert $500,000 from the SRO Rehabilitation Loan Program to upgrade wiring and increase the number of outlets in hotel rooms. Nearly forty people showed up to City Hall in support, half of them testifying publicly before the agency.

Sam Dodge of the Central City SRO Collaborative, one of the main organizers of the event, described the “pandemic” problem of outdated wiring in the SROs. Their electrical facilities are often only up to 1911 standards. The problem significantly contributed to a rash of fires that destroyed hundreds of units. Updated wiring would save lives. “Poor wiring”, he explained “leads to fights, fires, and instability” enabling “no stable community environment.” Many other SRO residents echoed this sentiment.

Phyllis Trammell spoke movingly of the constant fears she must battle after being an SRO fire survivor and current SRO resident. “I wonder when I wake up each morning if I’ll have to leave. I hear fire trucks 2-3x day and I don’t know if I’ll have a room when I get back. I have three grandchildren and I’d like to see them grow up...All we want is electricity in our rooms. We’d like to listen to the radio, use the TV or a phone. We’d like sprinklers in out rooms. We’d like to know that we are going to survive. We don’t want to die....We are a family. We want electricity and we want it bad”

Another resident, Terrie Frye testified to how electricity improved her quality of life. After living in an SRO for 7 years, she developed a gastrointestinal disorder, not having enough electricity to cook in her room. On Feb 2nd she got Section 8 housing and has been able to prepare her food on her stove at home. She hasn’t had to take her stomach meds since. “It’s amazing how much electricity can help.” She said with a smile.

Residents and owners testified to breakers short circuiting anywhere from once to twenty-five times per hour. Not only does this constitute an unbelievable nuisance but, as one tenant explained, it is also a security issue. When a breaker needs to be reset the person at the front desk has to leave to fix it. With the front person gone, other residents can not be attended to leading to further instability. Additionally, the hotel becomes more vulnerable to vandalism and robbery.

Many tenant groups, housing and SRO advocacy groups have been trying to attack the problem of wiring for a while. The Central City Collaborative, along with a host of other groups engineered a strategic partnership with SRO owners to address the issue. The money taken from the SRO Rehabilitation Loan Program comes in forgivable loans which have limited repayment restrictions. This grant-like financing gave owners an incentive for making the necessary upgrades to the SROs.

Since September, owners, tenants groups, and community organizations have worked on the issue with SOMPAC, the south of Market Planning Area Committee, which advises the Redevelopment Agency. The diverse interests reached a historic and unprecedented consensus. This put pressure on the Redevelopment Agency to acquiesce.

Ironically, it was the agency that ultimately untied the owners and tenants. "The “deal breaker” that most speakers on Tuesday spoke out against was something called the “right of first refusal”. This was restriction in the loan where the owners who accepted loan money would be required to offer the city the first bid on their property if they ever sold it. The clause is basically an attempt by the agency to “steal buildings” and makes owners feel “disrespected by the city” said Dodge. Owners and tenants all testified passionately against this restriction.

Many including Randy Shaw of the Tenderloin Housing Clinic argued that the board should defer to the united sentiment of the people of 6th street. “This vote will allow you to make the greatest difference in people’s lives more than anything you’ll ever vote for.” Arguing against them, he said, would set a dangerous precedent. Lauren Alden, an SRO tenant added “failure to fund this project sends a clear message of indifference to a community that deserves far more.”

In the end, after over 2 hours of testimonies and deliberations, the 5 member committee voted to approve the loan money minus the “right of first refusal” condition. The decision was a huge victory for the tenants, owners, and organizers who have been battling with this issue.

The most pressing argument for the funding was never brought up during the meeting. Most 6th street tenants have not actually benefited from any of the redevelopment agency’s money. $90 million dollars has been spent on the redevelopment of 6th street SROs so far. Almost all of this money has gone to a handful of hotels and the benefits have been extremely limited. Sam Dodge commented before the meeting, "Look up and down 6th Street and you know that they've spent $90 million dollars. But ask any tenant how has his life improved and he'll laugh at you." Many groups have been organizing around the mishandling of this money. Tuesday’s victory was only part of this larger battle.

by Staff Writer

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by Nomvuyo/Special to PNN

I called Pozna last night. I had met her last year during a solo and
self-funded tour of six African countries from October 2001 to March 2002. I
volunteered for advocacy focused non-government organizations, lived with
families and stayed as close to the ground as possible. I met Pozna while I
volunteered at a domestic violence NGO that she worked for. She is a
31-year-old Xhosa woman living in one of the poorest black townships in
Capetown, called Guguletu.

She held my hand and walked me through the rows and rows of shacks to show
me, "her beautiful people." Pozna showed the 2 room houses where sometimes 9
people stay in a room and the toilets located outside where which could be
shared by 10-20 people. She told me, "It is important that you know how my
people live." As much as it hurt me, it was important for me to know. She
organized the girls that she teaches traditional dance to, you dance for me.
They did not have a drum, so they used a garbage can and they welcomed me
with dance.

She told me I was a community healer and told me that I must meet other
healers. She brought me to the homes of local advocates, to the hostels, to
the people. I met Mrs. Florence Diamsche, a woman who had started a school
in her house in an area called crossroads for black children who had their
education disrupted by all of the violence of Apartheid. It is now a five
building school built across the street from her house and she is the
principal. There was Mavis Mamtambo Baja, an 80-year-old woman who worked
extensively for the youth. She told me I must work for change and to share
the little that you have, because the little that you have is more than the
person who has nothing at all. There were so many community healers that I
met with Pozna and we prayed together before we ate the soda and cookies
they served me on a tray.

At the hostels, we walked through one of several. We walked through the dark
hallway, as there were no light except for the sun coming through the door
at the end. We peered in to the six rooms the size of a dorm that were
separated by curtains and the community kitchen with the rusted out sink and
hot plate. We went to the community bathrooms separated by concrete walls
with no doors that had concrete holes in the ground that you squat over. We
went to the co-ed community showers with no curtains that were merely
spickets that poured water on a concrete floor. This was one of the newer
hostels built by the current government, the older ones were worse.

The hostels were one of many tactics used by the Apartheid government to
break up African families as only men were allowed to stay there. The
hostels were close enough to the city, which was reserved for whites, so
that the men could work for whites during the day, but far enough away so
that whites did not have to be conscious of the raids and murders by police
at the hostels at night. The dorms were now shared by whole families or
women and their children and although movement is no longer restricted, most
black South Africans still remain in townships, just as most of economic
power remains in white hands.

We walked through and people peered out of their shacks and rooms. Pozna
told them, "Come out, there is a black American here." Before I knew it, 50
or more Africans surrounded me in a circle around me. If I stepped backward,
I would step on someone (which I did). All these eyes peering at me, I
prayed a silent pray, "Spirit, shine through me, shine through my eyes and
my smile." I met as many eyes as I could, smiling the widest smile and the
most compassionate heart I could find. Pozna pumped me up before the crowd
and said, "She came all the way from America to be with us, to see us, to
bring us hope. She came by herself to volunteer to help our community. She
is a lawyer, she is a community healer. We call her Nomvuyo, because she
makes us happy." They said ooh, wow, and wow, nodded and pushed against each
other to be near me. They just stared and stared with wide eyes and smiled.

Then they would say something in Xhosa and Pozna would translate for me. She
said, "They are saying the ancestors brought you to them. They say you look
just like them, you are African." Pozna told them, "See, not all black
Americans have relaxers in their hair or wear their hair long, some wear
them short like us."

One man said in English- "Excuse me, what is the difference between a black-
American and an black South African? "I said, "Look at me, what is the
difference?" Everyone said, "Nothing, nothing!" They all agreed and talked
to each other and then came back to staring at me and I felt consumed, it
was intense. One little girl who held on to me telling everyone that I was
her new friend, ran and got her grandmother! I just started shaking their
hands and they hugged me. They touched my hair and my skin. Many had never
seen a black-American except on TV. He said, "We know about black-American
culture, but do they know about us?" It was so silent you could hear a pin
drop. He said, "Do they know that we live like this? Do they know we do not
live without any electricity, with no bathrooms, do they know?" I said, No
they do not." He said, "Kisha, will you please tell them, tell them about
us." I said " I give you my word, I will" and I shook his hand.

He said, "Did you take photos?" and I said "I will have to come back,
because I ran out of film". He said, "When, when will you come back?" I
said, "Next Saturday or Sunday." Another man, holding his heart said, "And
Kisha when you come back?" I said, "Yes". He said, "Will you please bring
your phone number, so I can take you out to lunch?" Everyone died laughing.
Pozna said, "See Kisha you bring light to the people. If you have light you
must share it." She said, "They need more time with you Kisha". I came back
the next weekend.

She showed me a side of South Africa, I would have never seen. She showed me
the invisible, the oppressed and the suffering 15 minutes away from a major
city full of malls, tourists and a metropolitan downtown city center. She
showed me a side of myself, I would have never discovered. She showed me a
side of love that I did not know existed. She showed me all of the latest
dances and we shared the hardships we had suffered.

One morning, she told me how she had survived death threats from the church
for pursuing charges against a local pastor who was molesting girls aged 4
years old to 13. She was accused of breaking up their church. He had had
full-blown intercourse with 12 of them. After 2 years of denial by the
community, Pozna was the only one to attempt to protect the children after
one of the 9-year-old girls disclosed to her. She organized the children,
taped 16 of their stories and could not find anyone to take on the case, as
he was a community leader with a wife and children.

Tears drenched our face as she told me how she organized the children,
taught them to say ‘No’ and run, how she failed 11th grade as their stories
would haunt her. . No one had ever listened to her story before. She said,
"Kisha will you help me write this story?" I promised that I would.

We shared the stories that no one wanted to hear. The stories of surviving
domestic violence, incest, isolation, poverty, the stories of being black
women. We had been living mirror lives despite an ocean being between us.

And when I left Capetown, she gathered all of her friends and threw me a
good-bye party. She gave a speech and said, At the party, she made a speech.
She said, "I don't know Kisha, since you are here, I feel like a baby born
anew. I have so much hope. The ancestors brought you to us. I am so very
proud to know you. I was lost and just going to let my community stay the
same, but now I know, I must work for change. Thank you. I look forward to
knowing you through the years."

As I prepared to go the next morning, we danced to our favorite song about
the doors being open. She would say, "Ah the doors are opening now, you are
here. Now you must go, if I could turn back time." When I left, we were both
inconsolable and I knew that we were extensions of each other. It was like
leaving a part of my heart behind.

My transition back to the U.S. was as hard as letting her go and it would
not be until three months upon my return, that I sent her the book, "The
Color Purple" by Alice Walker. I had told her about it while I was in South
Africa and she had never read or heard of it.

In the book, I had stuffed $50 from my unemployment check. I called her, as
I was worried that she never received the package.

The phone rang and I heard her voice on the other line. There was a delay.
She said, "Hello" I said, "Pozna?" She said a dry and stern, "Yes". I said,
"It is Kisha." She screamed, "Oh my God, Kisha! Baby Alrright? Oh Kisha, I
am in the street going crazy!" I laughed!

We are trying to find out how each is doing faster than the delay will
allow. "How are you?!!!" we say simultaneously. She said, "I am fine. My
family is fine also." I say, "I am fine."

I said, "Did you get the package?" She said, "Yes, I wrote you, did you get
my letter?" I said, "No." She said, "Shame." She said, "Thank you very
much. She said, I got the book and the $50. When I got the money, I put it
on the table and my family joined in a circle and we pray for you."

She said, "The timing was perfect for the bucks, because I had Pagama's (her
daughters) school fees and I did not know how I was going to pay it. I
turned it in to 500 Rands and I paid her school fees and I bought her a new
school uniform. It helped with the household also. I told her that this is
from Kisha." Pozna takes care of her elderly Aunt, her mentally delayed 28
year old sister (who she rescued from her mom who was prostituting her for
beer), her teenage daughter, her 5 year old son as well as two abandoned
children on $100 a month. She gets minimal support from the youngest child's
father. Unlike in the U.S., it costs money to receive public elementary
education.

I said, "Wonderful." She said, "Kisha, I have started a little phone
business. I have put two phones in Langa and then I will continue to work at
the NGO." In the townships in South Africa, people often go to places that
have phones to make their calls, as many do not have phones in their homes.
The amount you pay determines the amount of time you can stay on the phone.
It is a great source of income.

She said, "Do you remember Langa? Remember the lady we visited who had built
the school?" I remembered. When Pozna was convinced that I was a community
healer, she had taken me to
I said, "Yes, I remember well. I am very proud of you" She said, "I feel so
empowered Kisha. You empower me." She said, "Before you came, I was
depressed, but now since I met you, I know I can change my life." She said,
"You are such a bright star in my life." I said, "Oh honey, you are for me
too." She said, "Thank you very much."

She said, "The children and I, we talk about you every day. Now all my
children have dreams of going to America. I tell them that I know all is
possible since we met you." She said, "Please don’t ever leave my life." I
said, "I wont."

She said, "Even now, water fills my eyes." I choke up and say, "I know." She
started crying, a deep weeping cry, "I love youuuu Kishaaaaa. I love you
very much." I met her tears with my own, "I love you too Pozna."

She said, "When will I see you again?" I said, "I will be coming in August
or September." She said excitedly, "What is the exact date?" I said, "I do
not know, but I will write you." She said, "Yes, write me."

She said, "I went to the world conference and I had slides and everything."
I said, "Good for you! That is great!" She said, "It was wonderful for me.
People had a lot of questions and had a lot to say to me."

The phone cut off, but not the connection. Pozna does not know that we met
at the same place, a closed depressed heart that had lost its vision. As
much as I empower her, she empowers me and we re-ignited a repressed and
oppressed fire of passion. I would give her the world, if it were mine,
because she gave me a larger vision of the world and of myself that is
priceless.

We touch each other, because we remind each other who we are and we see our
potential as children of spirit within each other. We remind each other
about our mission in this life-healing and community service. I remember
telling her one time, "The ancestors are looking to us to break the
inter-generational patterns of abuse and addiction, to complete the work
that they did not have a chance to do. When we heal, we heal seven
generations before us and seven generations after us. I think that is our
work in this life." She looked at me, her eyes filled with tears and said,
"I think that is true."

We help each other rise above our individual circumstances, to our larger
purpose. We remind each other who we are when we forget. We share the load
when the burden of day to day living becomes so heavy that our heads are
bowed under the weight, limiting our vision to our feet and our small and
individual steps, tempting us to focus only on our individual journey.

When the world tells us that we are not beautiful, too dark, too round,
weak, insignificant, too loud and that our value and our role is sexual and
domestic, we remind each other of our strength, our beauty, our soul and our
significance and ability to make change in our smaller and larger worlds.

I never would have imagined that I would find my soul in a woman in one of
the poorest townships in South Africa. I am sure she would not have imagined
that a poor African in America raised up on welfare would come to Guguletu.
Yet, we have met. I wonder sometimes, if that was the only reason I went to
Africa, so we could find each other, so that we could find ourselves again,
so that we could rediscover each other as the spirits that we are.

Never underestimate the power of you to touch someone's life and for you to
touch theirs, never estimate the power of spirit and who will help you find
her within yourself.

by Michael Vizcarra/ PoorNewsNetwork Community Journalist

On Sunday, February 23, 2002, I attended POOR Magazine’s launch of its newest project, POOR Press, with a book release party featuring newly published works from low and no-income youth and adult poets and journalists. The night was beaming with energy as the community came to support the project and its authors.

Marvin Crutchfield was one of the new authors published by POOR Press and were featured at the event with the release of his first book, Paradise Ventures. Born in Cincinnati, Ohio, he moved to San Francisco’s Hunter’s Point 29 years ago when he was 9. It wasn’t until recently that he discovered a talent and love for writing poetry, though. In 2001, while working at his job, he wrote his first poem. He grabbed a pen and paper and started writing. "It just came to me," he says, "God inspired me." That first poem, "Don’t like my life of sin in the world we live in," startled a few friends who didn’t know Marvin had a penchant for writing. He’s been writing poetry ever since.

A lot of Marvin’s writings deals with being black and oppressed. His poem, "Clean Slate," reflects on the public’s perception of black, reformed ex-convicts, trying to make it in society but are not given a chance. Another poem, "B.L.A.C.K.," focuses on problems within the black community; whether it is the police, drugs, or the black community itself. What’s wonderful about Marvin’s words is he can take complex social issues and refine the complexity into poetry.

Religion is also a prevalent theme in Marvin’s poetry, perhaps the main theme. Marvin accepted Jesus Christ in 1998 because he wanted him to save his soul. "I believe he died for us," Marvin says. His poem, "Kicking it," eerily shows what might happen when you die without repenting for your sins, a ‘no admittance’ sign. Another powerful poem, "Guilty," depicts an omnipresent being from which no one can hide their sins, and when judgment day comes, he will know everything you have done.

Marvin has also found inspiration from other areas; his family, the state of the world, his love for his wife and two children, to name a few. He always shows his poems to friends and family, he says, because he values people’s opinions.
And his writing is not all about doomsday. There is always a sense of hope in Marvin’s poetry. As tough as life may seem, religion and God are always there to be a guiding light. "I just want to help people," says Marvin, "to help people get inspired."

Another new author releasing a book through POOR Press is Byron Gafford. His book of poetry, Through The Eyes Of A Child," deals with child abuse. Also growing up in San Francisco in the Double Rock Housing Projects, Byron also accepted Christ as his savior. In November of 1999, Byron received a message from God. His aunt for lying to her was beating his godson, Ronnie. Byron was about to intervene when he heard a voice tell him not to. The voice told him to just watch and take it all in. That experience was the epiphany he needed to start writing poetry.
"The Lord uses me as the vessel on child abuse," says Byron.

His friends and co-workers started telling stories from their own experiences with child abuse and Byron started putting it down on paper, making poetry out of it. The poetry is not just for kids or their experiences, he says, but for adults of every nationality and every culture. "My poetry is worldwide so it’s not about one person," says Byron. He also gets the titles of his poems from God. God also suggested the introduction of his book. Byron is on a goal to write 2000 poems. So far, he’s got 1855 written.

With the release of his first book Byron has had nothing but positive responses. A lot of the people who saw the book are ordering it. "It’s very spiritual, very powerful. If you take offense to it then there’s something there to hide," he says.

It’s amazing to see this kind of achievement and talent. It’s even better to see this talent recognized and heralded. These two men had never received any kind of computer training. It was only through their training here at POOR Magazine as part of the Digital Resistance Program were they able to learn and gain the skills and knowledge of putting together a book of poetry.

The book release party was great exposure for both Byron and Marvin, who in addition to Joseph Bolden and A. Faye Hicks released there first books through POOR Press It was also a rewarding culmination of everyone’s hard work and effort to bring these books as well as several other powerful books by POOR Magazine to fruition. There are powerful words and images within the pages of all of these books, and a message that transcends any race, cultural, or religious beliefs which would be a great addition to any school curriculum or gift list .

These and many more books are available now through mail order . To order the books by mail order please call POOR (415 863-6306) and ask for the POOR Press catalogue to be sent to you or and click here to access the on-line POOR Press catalogue.

by Joe B.

Somewhere between the time I awoke stumbling about half blind to a Yoga Class "Woman’s Month" came into my head.

Listen folks, Wednesday’s are my off days it seems the only one away from Poor Magazine.

Its cherished as my day of relaxation, recreation, on occasions to be spend all day with some lovely lady in bed with food, drink, birth prevention tools or other things with batteries that hum and vibrate.

That reminds me to visit the new Good Vibration store on Polk Street for those 3-fingered battery operated massage device.

I’ll buy two for each hand for twice her enjoyment.

Not today, sadly decided to drop a class, pay my loan debt off, let a long standing relationship go by not calling anymore, and returning some library books before they’re over due.

Just getting back for withdrawal from a class I hear loud chanting from many female voices saying "Bush Get Out The Way, Get Out The Way."

Vaguely I heard its month of the woman and younger ones and guys are protesting Bush’s 48 hour deadline to war.

Its my day off and I’m not ‘getting any so I’ll be feel like old Priapus or pos only not with as noticeable a member as he but just a unsatisfied.

I’d stay in my messy, smelly room but just because its some month of the woman doesn’t mean I’ll hold up all day like a prisoner I’m going out.

The streets are full of wall to wall women walking, talking, yelling, marching, with boyfriends, hubbies, and children in tow.

In the mist of this estrogen power surge behind, ahead, surrounding me there’s nowhere to go except down the bart station temporarily escaping some accidental brushing against breasts and rear ends.

But a few fems had there way with me with a free grope and feel on my buttocks and groin

(their touches are gentle as if they knew not to be rough).

Got groped again soon as I emerged from the bart exit across from the library.

After dropping the books off entered the 97% feminine crowd again this time to pay off my loan dept and one last time a few fingers are front and rear.

Never saw these women who did light sexual assault on me, guess it serves me right for my own stare and ogling women through the years at least it’s a "Now you know how it feels, guy" kind of thing.

Maybe I could rethink the break up but then no its time to move one and the groping proves my body appeals to a few women in the crowd which looked on positive is not a bad thing.

After mailing the loan check money I return to the United Nations Plaza and walk to City Hall where multitudes of young school girls, young adult, and women of every age are holding up banners as police in motorcycles, on foot, in cars watch the protest.

There are many women of color but its mostly white women and men raising their voices I guess black folks say"We did this, your turn but watch out for billy clubbing police there ready for any excuse for a beat down.

I go home still feeling impressions of women’s fingers on my it will be difficult taking a nap better lay on my stomach during the nap.

I hope man and women aren’t going to war we don’t one in the 21st century.

Lets sit this one out while we take care of infrastructure, family, friends, lover’s, lost children, adults, get better, higher paid jobs.
careers[especially women finally being equal to] men.] Then we get a few Madam President’s in the office. Who knows, one of ‘em out there or on a their job somewhere is the future President.

I just want to sleep as voices die down and girls, young and elder women detach going separate ways but forming all sorts of political/career/business co-operatives as ZZZzzzz’s take over me greatfully. Bye.

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For Joe only my snail mail:

1230 Market St.

PO Box #645

San Francisco, CA 94102

Email: askjoe@poormagazine.org

by TJ Johnston/PNN

Last Friday, March 21, a parade of protesters against the war marched by me at the United Nations Plaza. Having joined similar processions since the bombing of Iraq, I decided not to let this parade pass me. By this time we walked past City Hall, our parade ran into a moving, riot-geared detour.

Near Grove and Gough, one of the marchers called out for us to turn back to Franklin: SFPD and Highway Patrol were cutting us off. We did so, but as I made it to the sidewalk, the blue centipede surrounded us. I figured it would be at least a late night for me, assuming I would be released hours later. It was already 6pm and I wondered if I would be able to walk the dogs that night.

The stretch of Franklin cordoned off included the San Francisco Opera. Outside a venue that sees heightened theatrics, the unfolding events carried an unexpected mundanity. A bullhorned officer announced that all 200 of us were under arrest: the charges were going to be blocking traffic and failing to obey a dispersal order. Funny thing was, most of us were on the sidewalk and we never received such an order. The cops knew as much.

The cops' faces at once displayed resentment and boredom. We whiled the next couple of hours, talking, singing, playing music and chanting for the cops to let us go (one implored our release "in the name of Jesus").

Not only was my timing bad, my ill fashion sense was sure to implicate me as I wore Bloc Black. I fished a card printed by the ACLU out of my pocket. The card included tips on how to comport yourself in a detention/arrest situation. There was a Middle Eastern looking woman beside me. I asked if it was OK to read it aloud, as it might actually be helpful.

The converted school buses weren't enough to carry us: double-length MUNI vehicles were also required to transport us. We were patted down and Polaroided. Our belongings were tagged. Plastic handcuffs bound us.

I wondered what the Hall of Justice at 850 Bryant would be like. As it turned out, we were being herded to a detention facility on Pier 27. On the Civil Disobedience Special, female arrestees were placed in front of the bus, males in back. I hadn't experienced this gender segregation since elementary school. Cheers greeted our departure.

We hit the Embarcadero around 9:30pm. The makeshift holding facility reminded me of an air hangar or the set of a Jerry Bruckheimer production sans aesthetic value. We were corralled behind iron partitions. The cops seeked for individuals with the Polaroids as their guides. I was struck by the absurdity of giving my tame so they could tag my stuff: didn't they think of writing it on the photo, too?

Corrals were set up on opposite sides. Those waiting to be called for processing and those being processed (meaning the cops were running a check on them). I weighed the balance of giving them my ID or going "John Doe." If I gave them my driver's license (not that it's required here), the paperwork would be speedier as I have no priors. Not volunteering my name meant a lost weekend in custody. As my cuffs were cut, I told a cop I was carrying my ID in my wallet and presented him my license. I was escorted to the opposite corral for more "hurry up and wait."

There we waited for our names to be called. A small group ran a pool. Each person chipped in a dollar. The last person released was supposed to win the pot. I had nothing to contribute, so I wasn't interested in the outcome. Waiting to hear my name, yet another constable announced that if they catch us protesting again in the next 48 hours, they wouldn't cite us but throw us in jail. We collectively groaned at this blatant intimidation tactic. We were already there for constitutionally protected activity and they compounded it with bogus charges.

I strategized about not getting caught next time, or at least joining an affinity group (as most of my fellow detainees were). Then my name was announced. Just like "The Price Is Right," I came on down. I left the pen, went to a table at the back where my citation and ID waited. The slip contained the vital stats from my license; the numeric designations of my charge, name and badge of arresting officer (for the record, Officer Baretti 175) and my court date (about five weeks from now). I signed it, gathered my stuff and exited. I didn't feel defiant or triumphant as those who left to cheers. I was more annoyed for forfeiting an evening for a glorified traffic ticket.

I spotted an assembly of the newly sprung. Some people from the National Lawyers Guild handed out paperwork I desired. With a fresh citation as my guide, I copied the information and my contact info. In exchange, they gave us their number and that of the County to check the status of our case. By then, they heard enough particulars of this mass arrest to expect charges to be dropped (as well as a class action to be filed).

A pizza was brought and I scarfed a slice before the pie disappeared. Dinner provided small comfort, less than not having to pee the entire time. Like a fool, I asked if anyone was going to my 'hood and expected an affirmative. That meant another bus. Still, I walked away from the ferries and into midnight.

by Staff Writer

Welcome to the 2007 POOR Press Catalogue!!!

This catalogue features the amazing work of graduates of POOR Magazine's Digital Reisistance Program.
In this program, very low and no income adults and youth are given the opportunity to create a book from start to finish, beginning with creative writing, narrative essays and poetry and then progressing to graphic design and layout publishing and promotion. Since its inception, POOR Press has allowed over 46 youth and adult poverty scholars to publish books of artwork, poetry and short stories, sharing their extremely valuable, but all too often ignored, experiences, views and opinions with the world.

Check out our latest books and find out about them from the authors on The POOR Press Authors Page

To order any of the POOR Press publications (books and CDs) with your credit card or by mail click here to go to the ORDER FORM.

by Joe B.

I’ve been told that I’d piss persons of other than heterosexual orientation off if they read my stuff.

While I argue about being ambiguous about one’s orientation if not lying is being less than truthful making a sort of game that can be as emotionally damaging because the truth was shrouded and not clear in the open.

Example if a woman is Bisexual or strictly Lesbian
and the straight guy who’s already told the truth of his orientation doesn’t know because the lovely woman decides to be ambiguous never telling him the complete truth that’s were ambiguity becomes a cruel joke.

Because "S" guy falls in love then when woman see’s that not wanting to hurt him then tell the truth about herself.

I know "S’ jerks on fault. That’s what I mean blame victim for being human.

That’s why when I go into chat rooms I let cyber folks know my real orientation so as to rid myself of the rejections.

[While I’m at it, I’m so bad doing the dating adds
adultfinder.com/personals I input so much info that it may scare women away especially the medical and Philosopher’s Stone part.

But if I’m going to do the online thing I want no deceptions or be deceived].

I’m "Hetro Lost in San Francisco, and straight women out here?" or words to that effect.

If there are no emails to JoeGntleM at askjoe@poor magazine.org I’ll just try again being patient, persistant as a slow steady turtle has its advantages.

I couldn’t get my email off the site to change it so its up there looking pathetic even though I’ve told the truth there.

Well, that’s it; except please order my book ASKJOE: Holding up the World.

I say truth out, get rid of shallow surface people who already rejecting me let go 1000 no’s keep the 1 or more yes’s.

Folks, you don’t have to deal with heart ache, the "phrase "move on" is for such situations.

I’ve thinking of fiction, science fiction, and speculative fiction.

But there are always works that seem to be forbidden like a world without men, women, pets, mono racial survival and multi racial extinction.

Or what I’ve been thinking What happens when and if applied science found ways of ridding the world of same sex love?

Not by torture, killing, or sending folks into other dimensions or worlds but through genetic, hormonal, and brain chemistry.

The Place Anywhere: It could be a San Francisco in a parallel universe.

Imagine if you will scientist’s, researchers did find the answer say nothing and pre-born embryonic children are delicately operated on as soon as they found telltale traits leading to Homosexuality, Lesbianism, Bisexuality, Trans-gendered, Hermaphrodite or sexual confusion between them all.

I would be a slow extinction without genocidal consequences because children wouldn’t killed only changed in orientation.

What about gay adults and children?

They’ll find it more difficult finding same sex partners over time and the ones who do wanting children will have them and their children will grow up all of them at some point under doctor’s care and operation on as embryo’s.

Of course someone finds out but after 30 to 40 years its too late to correct this secret non lethal extinction of a people.

The last BI, Lesbian, or Homosexual dies of illness, accident, or old age.

And same sex orientation people are extinct in that city and all over the planet.

Ok, its only a short story, but just in case same sex folks should still be aware of ideas like these floating around.

My story would be similar except a heterosexual who’s ambivalent about this controlled pandemic could just let happen so he creates a genetic bomb that doesn’t kill only works subtly in people making a few same sex orientated and are in the genes of generations to come ensuring both same sex and opposite sex orientations continue.

I don’t know about you but the idea of a heterosexual man, the villain of 20th and 21st century being the savior of all those who’ve at time despised, ridiculed, and made to look sad and ridiculous, for hating and killing different "S" orientated people.

To turn around in a supreme effort universal love and understanding save the very people his fellow ‘hetero’s has tortured, killed, and who’s lives made miserable.

I don’t know if same sex folks would hate me because of the premise of making a straight man hero or the way of ridding the world of them completely can be seen as possible in the first place? Bye

PS What do you think folks?


Any ideas for other stories?

Please send donations to

Poor Magazine or in C/0

Ask Joe at 1448 Pine Street,

San Francisco, CA. 94103 USA

For Joe only my snail mail:

1230 Market St.

PO Box #645

San Francisco, CA 94102

Email: askjoe@poormagazine.org

by Leroy Moore Jr. /Illin and Chillin

In this month, Women History Month of 2003, my disabled sisters of color voices are once again muddled or is it nobody’s listening to their beautiful voice, art and activism in this critical time. Early this month Gov. Gray Davis apology on the history of California in sterilization era that included an overwhelming number of Black women but the article goes on to say that there is a lack of information connecting California Gov. to the large number of force sterilization cases. I wonder have our state government ever read Killing the Black Body by Dorothy Roberts, who researched and wrote on this topic of force sterilization on Black women. According to KPFA, after the first day of the so called war on Iraq, women and elderly has filled up hospitals, some will have to live with war inflicted disabilities.

What about disabled women of color artists, writers and advocates? Oh, they are out there in full force but once again their voices are muddled but growing strong daily. Locally Patty Bern, Noemi Sohn and Mariana Ruybalid are putting their beautiful and strong voices out there in their own way. On February 13, 2003, San Francisco Women Against Rap in conjunction with Fearless Words held a showcase of digital stories of survivors of sexual assault. Patty Bern, a revolutionary disabled woman of color put together a digital story in which disability, sexuality, dehumanization\violence, transformation and healing are understood as social and political phenomena as well as an individual process. I felt proud to see my disabled sister of color artwork in the mix of other women of color stories. This proud feeling continued to grow when my friend, a disabled Filipino, poet, activist Noemi Sohn told me that she is working on her first chapbook of poetry due out soon. I am blown away by the focus, determination and the words of Mariana Ruybalid, a spiritual, beautiful soul that forms this disabled Latina who will be coming out with her first full length novel in July of this year and found a publisher on her own.

From my research, the mother of the Black Disabled movement, is Mildertte Hill of London England. Hill helped start The Black Disabled Movement in the UK and is the co-founder and has been the chair of the Black Disabled People Group in 1990. In 1993 Hill formed the Black Disabled Women’s Collective and help edited the first book I found on Black disabled people entitled Reflection: Views of black disabled people on their lives and community care . We can’t forget the mother & daughter team, the Dunhamns, in New Jersey that started the New Jersey Minorities with Disabilities Coalition. Last but not least our own San Francisco Bayview Columnist and Black Panther, Kiilu Nyasha who reminds us the injustice in the prison system and this racist country we live in. When I see Kiilu roll up to the mike in her stylist wheelchair, at rallies I feel like I’m not alone. Kiilu, one day I want to sit down with you, listen, learn, take notes on how to organize people of color with and without disabilities. You are something else! Please teach me! So to honor my gorgeous disabled sisters of color in Women History Month of 2003 I dedicate this poem to you. Black in this poem means all women of color.

I'm Beautiful


(For Black disabled women)

I am fucking gorgeous

with my brown smooth skin and my shaved head!

Oh yeah my body is slammin

with my long thin legs, firm tight butt and young breast!

Mmm mmm mmm I know I'm fine!

My green eyes stop traffic.

Mick Jaguar wish he had my lips.

High check bones, dimples and my thin eyebrows.

Yheap, I kissed myself in the mirror!

Although I'm the finest thing on this earth,

many people think I look like a freak.

I'm shock!

They don't see my beauty!

My legs are twisted inward.

My speech is slow.

How can any man or woman pass

me without noticing how hot I am?

I should have a date every day of the week.

You don't know what you're passing up!

Mondona, Janet Jackson, En Vogue & The Spice Girls

stand in line behind me!

My beauty goes deeper than what you see.

My mind is beautiful!

College and street graduate.

I'm dying for a stimulate conversation.

You can't ask for anything better!

Strong, intelligent, beautiful, independent,

Black disabled young woman.

But you can't deal with me!

You'd pass me by for what?

It's too bad you can't handle me.

Am I too much for you?

If you can't say it than you

need to stop starring at me!

I know what you're thinking!

"She is fine but............
If only..............."

But I don't need you to tell me

what I already know.

I'm beautiful from the inside out and outside in!

I'm beautiful when I drag my feet

across the street!

Everything about me is beautiful!

God damn I'm drop dead gorgeous

and you're ugly, stupid, and narrow-minded

and a waste of my time!!

This poem is dedicated to all the Black disabled women who have been over looked by the Women Movement, the Black Feminist Movement, the Black Gay Movement and the Disability Rights Movement. You're BEAUTIFUL. Fuck that you're Fucking Gorgeous!

by Staff Writer

Who is considered a great scholar? How is scholarship attained? How is greatness honored? One of the ways literary greatness has been honored for many years is in a tradition borne from the greco-roman word Laureate or Wreath, which was, literally, a wreath given to great "men" of science, literature and art.

Traditionally, the title of Poet Laureate was bestowed on people who were considered literary scholars, who due to their prolific literary works, awards and formal scholarship were considered "worthy" or "deserving" of the Laureate. Only recently have the awards been given to anyone who is not linked to an old-school literary canon, ie, Ivy league schools and their presses such as: Harvard, Yale, Wellesley and Brown to name a few. Which means until recently the majority of poet laureates were priveleged men of European Descent

At POOR we have a very different notion of scholarship, who deserves it, how it is attained and how it is used. We have established a new kind of scholarship, The Scholarship of Poverty. This scholarship has a new canon with new designations for greatness. Survival itself, through extreme poverty and crisis, houselessness, racism, disability and welfare to name a few are what you need to qualify for poverty scholarship. Conversely, a person who is formally educated with a Masters Degree and no poverty scholarship would be considered inexperienced and therefore should not be writing, lecturing or legislating on issues that impact communities in poverty. With this new canon in mind POOR has established the Po Poet Laureate title which we will bestow on very low-income, youth and adult, literary scholars every six months and publish their work as a monthly column on PNN.

Like other Poet Laureate’s nominated by Formal Educational Institutions and City Governments, The Po’ Poet Laureates will use their poetry to comment on issues. Unlike other poet Laureates though, The Po Poet Laureates will comment on issues specifically impacting communities struggling with poverty and racism. Through this new project, POOR’s hope is to offer up this new scholarship to ALL communities in an attempt to shatter the lies and myths, while also redefine the solutions for poor folk locally and globally.

by TJ Johnston for Weird Services

A multimillionaire, until recently a poor mountaineer who barely kept his family fed, is taking shots at a network for staging a reality show based loosely on his life.

J.D. "Jed" Clampett lambasted CBS about their attempts to relocate a poor, rural family to a Hollywood mansion and put them on televised display. "All that trouble lookin' for country folk," opines Clampett in a press conference at his Beverly Hills estate, "and they don't know the Clampetts live right here."

CBS had put out a call for a nationwide "hick hunt" with the stipulation that the auditionees have limited education and travel experience. With an estimated 56 million in America's boonies to choose from, it seems the Tiffany Network already has their work cut out for them. Their search has already taken them through the Deep South, Midwest and Appalachian regions.

Having discovered oil while hunting in his property outside Bugtussel, Clampett made a deal with OK Oil and now lives off the proceeds. Despite the plush surroundings of swimming pools and movie stars, his family, comprised of his mother-in-law "Granny" Daisy Moses, daughter Ellie Mae, and nephew Jethro Bodine, live frugally. In fact, they still drive the same truck which they took to California and employ no servants.

Clampett challenged CBS to bring their cameras to his manor. "We got some things that the folks in TV land would find mighty interestin'." In a tour of his house, he showed reporters the "critters" Ellie Mae cares for and the pool (or "cement pond") where Granny makes her soap. Jethro, who was not present, engages in a multifaceted career including being a Hollywood agent, a "double-naught" spy and a Robin Hood-style outlaw. Emphasizing Jethro's sixth-grade education, Clamped wryly said, "Anyone who believes an education isn't worth the money ought to hear the boy speak."

Clampett thought deliberately when posed a question about the image of rural America such a program might portray. "I hope everybody has a sense of humor about it." He seemed baffled by one network exec's musing about "the episode where they have to interview maids." Again, Clampett stressed his clan's ethos of self-sufficiency, thrift and 'neighborliness' to their fellow man.

At that moment, neighbor Milburn Drysdale (who is also president of the Commerce Bank of Beverly Hills) blustered into the house, apparently unaware his largest depositor arranged for the press conference. Drysdale immediately detracted disparaging statements about "trash TV" and pledged to support Clampett's campaign.

by Staff Writer

The Budget Cuts are cutting Us!

We the citizens

We the People

We are being denied all humane rights

Lest of all the rights as citizens of the U,S, of A.

The Rights to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness

Teen Citizens

Lack of Education

Leads to Street Corners

Imprisonment, drugs, prostitution, gangbanger, death

Teen parents, which starts the whole circle again

Budget Cuts cutting Us!

Senior Citizens

Retired , hapless trusted in their retirement fund, gone

Medicine, Food, or Shelter?

No choice, but to ditch one, how can they

Cutting Us, to the Bone!

Disable d Citizens

Mental and Physical

Programs canceled, a carrot dangled

Homelessness , streets, death

We are being denied all humane rights

We are being denied power to the people

What we are not being denied is a Bigger Police Force

More Big Bosses, with more Political Power

Bigger and bigger , prisons, jailhouse, and juvenile halls

We the people protest this "War against Poverty

We are citizens!

Teen, Senior, Poor, and Disabled!

by Alex Cuff/PNN Community Journalist

Business at usual at City Hall when I stopped by on Friday to pick up the audio tape of the January 21 st Board of Supervisor’s weekly meeting. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” the receptionist asked me as she wrote out the receipt for the $5 tape. Well at least we are still able to access public records…on this level. Walking through the cavernous halls of our stately capital building I am thinking about the Patriot Act - so much talk about the Patriot Act - but for me it’s just gotten clumped up with all the injustices I’m feeling are being imposed on us here in the old US of A, as well as on folks we’re affecting all over the world with our egomaniacal foreign policy. As I walk down the long intimating hallway toward the offices of all the supervisors, I’m reminded of bits of news from the radio and
paper headlines – the unjust detaining of immigrants and citizens of color alike, words of the actors behind the Bush Administration who strive to instill fear in all of us while defending their own hate crimes. After a while I become numb and ask myself, how is the USA Patriot Act affecting me personally?

I still wake up and roll out of bed. Click power on the stereo catching the end of

94.1’s morning show. Walk around the clothes strewn all over the floor into the

kitchen towards the kettle. Cup of earl grey, maybe a shower, check the mouse traps,

maybe skim the paper or a book if I have time. Eventually off to work. For the

most part, this is my morning. The USA Patriot Act hasn’t altered my day to day

experience – yet. As I drift down the majestic corridor of city hall with the

intention of paying visits to Tony Hall and Jake McGoldrick, I wonder if I would still be on this assignment from Poor Magazine to report on the resolution the City of San Francisco passed opposing the act – if the Patriot Act was in full effect in SF.

When I ask acquaintances if they feel that they are affected by the Patriot

Act, the most common answer I’ve gotten is something like this: "I think it

sucks that the government uses terrorism as an excuse to invade our privacy." Of

course most of us wouldn’t know if FBI agents were sipping coffee and pouring

over our library history or reading about our hours of therapy, our abortions,

or any other information from our medical records because under the act, those who are being violated do not have a right to know about it! The Patriot Act limits disclosure of public documents and records under the Freedom of Information Act and also prevents let’s say the librarian, from telling you that she’s not the only one that knows what you’re borrowing.

On January 21st San Francisco joined 26 other US cities in resolving to oppose the crackdown on civil liberties, otherwise known as the USA Patriot Act. What does this mean? Well of course a city or state can’t repeal or overturn a federal act so the law hasn’t really changed but these cities are, in so many words, declaring that local law enforcement will refuse to enforce the Patriot Act when it refuses the rights of citizens under the Bill or Rights.

From the discussions I’ve been having with folks regarding the new authorization the government is seizing under the Homeland Security Act and the Patriot Act, there seems to be three tiers of folks when it comes to the degree people feel threatened by these powers: those who do not really understand the implications it has on their civil rights yet who support the ‘increased security’; those who, although don’t feel affected yet, do have an idea about the implications it has on our civil rights and are against it; and then there are those who have already been directly affected by it through racial profiling, violation of attorney/client privileges.

For those of us who aren’t fully aware of the awesome power the Patriot Act

affords the US government, let me share some of what I’ve learned: The USA Patriot Act is an acronym for The Uniting and Strengthening America by

Providing Appropriate Tools Requiring to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism. (How convenient that this clear, straight forward title spells out USA Patriot.) The

act has amended over 15 federal statutes, and overrides all existing state and

federal privacy laws. Section 802 expands the definition of terrorism to cover

"domestic" as opposed to international terrorism. So according to the patriot

act, you, yes you are a domestic terrorist if you commit an act that appears to

be intended to: 1. intimidate or coerce a civilian population 2. influence the

policy of a government by intimidation or coercion 2. affect the conduct of a

government by mass destruction, assassination or kidnapping.

These definitions are broad enough to include the activities of many non-profits, community based organizations, and elected officials that are active around everything the Patriot Act is designed to take away: freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of assembly and privacy, protection from unreasonable searches and seizure, due process and equal protection to any person, equality before the law and the presumption of innocence, access to council in judicial proceedings, and a fair, speedy and public trial. You wouldn’t be reading this on PNN right now if the FBI decided to accuse Poor Magazine of "influencing the policy of government by intimidation or coercion” through its support of parents that file lawsuits against CPS, or it’s denunciation of police activity in Bay View Hunter’s Point.

Jake McGoldrick, the San Francisco supervisor who authored the resolution, spoke during the board meeting declaring “We can not live in that state of fear; we can not succumb to that fear because we will in fact be handing a victory to those who are the enemies to the kind of freedom we have.” Ten out of eleven of the supervisors joined with McGoldrick to pass the resolution.

Supervisor Tony Hall – who wouldn’t call me back for a comment – defended his position in voting against the resolution: “I’m not really interested in joining the ranks of protesters that have something negative to say about anything that relates to the federal government – I will defer to the law enforcement authorities when it comes to protecting our security.” He feels that “there’s more good about the Patriot Act then there is the bad that I’ve been told, I’ve been told, is wrong with it. So, that’s my feeling.” Um, if I could have gotten Hall on the phone I would have asked him if he’s ever even listened the “ranks of protesters” who have something negative to say about “anything that relates to the federal government.”

To my embarrassment for Hall, he said something that made me think he’s never even explored the provisions of the act: “What’s interesting here is the act itself deals mainly with immigration, now if there’s something wrong with the act where people are being detained – and I think this is what I’m hearing – being detained without a lawyer, and without the right to see a judge, then that’s wrong. I’m against that part of the act.” Well I’m glad that he’s against that part of the act.
If that’s all he’s opposed to, I guess he has no problem with the provision that allows law enforcement agencies to search homes and offices without notifying the owner for days or weeks after. Or the part of the Patriot Act that grants power to the Attorney General to subject citizens of other nations to indefinite detention or deportation even if they have not committed a crime.

I think that what freaks me out the most is section 806, Seizure of Assets. This section amended the civil asset forfeiture statute to authorize the government to seize and forfeit assets of an individual or organization on the mere assertion that “there is probable cause to believe that the assets were involved in domestic terrorism.” This grants the government power to bankrupt any political organizations they deem unpatriotic! The worst part is that at a civil hearing, a person is not entitled to an attorney at public expense – only well funded non-profits and persons would be able to successfully defend themselves against the forfeiture.

The resolution opposing the USA Patriot Act which was authored by McGoldrick and approved by all other supervisors, save Hall, states that “to the extent legally possible, no City employee or department shall officially assist or voluntarily cooperate with investigations, interrogations, or arrest procedures, public or clandestine, that are in violation of individuals’ civil rights or civil liberties…” It also declares “that the San Francisco Board of Supervisors calls upon all private citizens and organizations, including residents, employers, educators, and business owners, to demonstrate similar respect for civil rights and civil liberties, especially but not limited to conditions of employment and cooperation with investigations.”

A couple of weeks ago I attended a Police Commission meeting in which a ban on consent searches was proposed. The stories San Francisco citizens shared about witnessing, or being victimized by, police brutality due to racial and class profiling were unpardonable. Hopefully our local law enforcement will obey this resolution…not only in a stand of non-compliance with what’s being asked of them through the Patriot Act but because what the resolution is asking is for are basic human rights. Thank you to supervisors McGoldrick, Ammiano, Daly, Peskin, Ma, Sandoval, Gonzalez, Dufty, Maxwell, and Newsom for resolving that “any efforts to end terrorism not be waged at the expense of the fundamental civil rights and liberties of the people of San Francisco.”

by Joe B.

It’s Wednesday, February, 19, 2003 usually, supposedly my seemingly one day off getting away from POOR Magazine’s constant Political stuff.

Not today, later day history is being made but all I’m thinking about is Yoga, and later the same night Latin Ameri-Folk Dancing which are at turns the Merengue, Salsa, and (yes, may have spelled the first dance wrong)
some Ballroom dance as well.

So far I’ve stuck with both classes Yoga being the easier of the two, the instructor and students know me as the guy most likely to drive the instructor crazy but I taking her words to heart "To take whatever positives learned in the class and build on them."

With the launching of POOR’s Book Release Party and precious little time I and others scurry about handing out flyers ads to people, organizations, and S.R.O.[single Residency/Room Occupancy] Hotels

Spreading the word as wide as we can.

Me, with two both classes on the same days at different hours the last thing on my mind is practicing the skid ‘uh-play on ‘houzin, first on this day of all days I had other plans which already have been back-burned enough
now again its on the burn again!

My my, all this on the same day plus my brother and sister in-law are at mama’s place.

I won’t be able to leave to see them before their gone again and they may not be able to be at the event makes real cool on the idea of performing this skit ‘uh play, I’m ‘kinda not ‘feelin it now.

Again a missed opportunity to visit KPOO radio station in the city, glad I had two and a half hours of sleep before going to a potentially historic "Ammiano For Mayor Kick Off Party" later on the same night.

If it wasn’t for a good friends invite I would not have known about it.

In San Francisco’s Plummer’s Hall on1621 Market Street.

And to think in a not to lucid state Mr. Ammiano called Ms. Alex C.

I answer and blearily call the man Tom, as soon as it came out of my I knew that was bad but its to late he probably thinks I’m an idiot; oh well at least its no worse than that.

Got to practice saying "The Honorable Mayor Mr. Tom Ammiano.

The food was good chicken on long, thin, sharp, wooden sticks, and plates, alcohol and non alcoholic beverages. By 6:07 or 10 pm. Mr. Ammiano Arrived.

Supe. Mc Goldrick first spoke about Amminano then Mr. Ron Dicks, Transplanted New Yorker spoke about a great ball player hounded out of baseball when he contracted HIV[Human Immuno- deficiency Virus]

Times ‘tickin by 6:41 I knew if I stayed any longer I wouldn’t be able to get home, do last minute, sprucing up, brushing teeth before taking Bart to City College.

I left with the positive mutual buzz around this political bash.

Though I’m not political I do who ever is the best candidate wins and that’s as far as it goes.

All the rest of I have no time to deal with.

My friend on the other hand eats up this stuff, loves it, cannot fault my buddy for it but to me its just to much stuff to always be looking up-at statistics, voting districts, facts, figures, and all the other stuff that goes on forever.

Its not that compelling or exciting for me as it is for my friend who eats, sleeps, dreams, the stuff daily making a career.

All the best but leave it at the job no long 'convo about it to me like "Billy Joel sings "I don't want to work that hard."

Its exactly why I do few news item because the story never ends there's always a backstory, review, quotes, it really never ends.

So I write colums beginning, middle and end or section them in parts but eventually there's an end to them.

How did politics evolve?

It probably began as the first chieftains, queens, kings, monarchs, princes, and leaders so much land and people they needed help with her/his fief, queen/kingdom(s), lands and advisers helped them to decide how to be leaders, draft, and enforce laws then it became a permanent fixture of leadership to have qualified advisers and eventually politics came to be.

I don’t trust the two party system its like a closed game and though it’s the only game in town.

One can get away from the town altogether and get along without all the excess crud getting dragged with it.

The personal is political but I’m A political will stay that way because my goal is way beyond elections every two to four years but is about the very essence of life itself and there are times all that goes beyond mere politics because without life itself politics is a game of tactics, advantage, popularity, and parties.

That’s another pet peeve, not enough political parties for the populace to chose from.

The Two party system is broken and folks should have more choices than picking form plan A or Plan B we need a mixing all the alphabets and numbers.

I made it to the dance club early and forgot about the historic ‘Pol bash.

My main goal is learning to dance better, meeting lovely women, dating regular maybe in my journeys finding my soul mate and living a slower, healthier life span. Bye Folks.

Please send donations to

Poor Magazine or in C/0

Ask Joe at 1448 Pine Street,

San Francisco, CA. 94103 USA

For Joe only my snail mail:

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Email: askjoe@poormagazine.org

by Staff Writer

The goal of POOR Magazine's Poverty Studies Institute (PSI) is to examine the root causes of poverty and racism through research, critical analysis, activism and advocacy.

PSI is open to all people who are interested in working with, creating media on, or providing services for, communities impacted by or directly affected by issues related to poverty and racism (see below for tuition and enrollment information)

One of our current explorations include the examination of Individualism, Separation and Independence as it is also our belief as Poverty Scholars* at POOR, that these practices lead to the very harmful manifestations of isolation and separation which eventually can lead to and/or worsen houselessness, ageism, mental illness, etc rather than the notions of collectivism and interdependence, most often associated with non-western, indigenous cultures, which can prevent if not heal poor families sufferring from these issues. It is our belief that especially for poor families, these notions are harmful and often lead to the interventions/assault of families by racist and classist institutions and policies such as Child Protective Services, The Criminal (Un)Justice System, The Foster Care System, Welfare (de) Reform, and many more.

Teachers/Poverty Scholars at PSI use several forms of media as a tool for critical analysis. Our current media "reading" is a series of films that explore these issues..

The Following is a series of student analysis through Responses to questi ons by PSI on the Film; Real Women Have Curves.

Teacher/Poverty Scholar; Dee

Teachers Assistant; Alex Cuff

Sometimes We didn't have a Phone

By Intern/Poverty Scholar; Jewnbug

How does the film deal with individuation?

The Mother is against Ana going to college anywhere she wants her to stay close to the family and work. The Father would rather Ana go to school close by instead of New York because he has worked hard to keep the family together and New York is too far away. The family (grandpa, older sister, father, cousins) live together and work together. The oldest daughter Estella works very hard with her Mother making dresses. The Mother wants Ana to know the value of family and hard work. The father works with his nephews doing garden landscaping. Ana no longer is working at a place that makes burgers because of the conflict with the manager. Her mother has Ana work with her and her sister making dresses. She sees first hand the everyday hard work and struggle of making ends meet for the family that her sister and mother do. At the same time Ana is still determined to go to college with the help of her teacher (this part of the movie is similar to a part in the movie Stand and Deliver). Her mother wants Ana to stay with the family and to help with her sister's business and most importantly stay close to the family that the Mother goes as far as saying she's pregnant to convince Ana more and more the need for her to stay close to the family. Estella is older but still shares a room with her sister. They all use the same phone line and share the same computer unlike the boyfriend who had his own room and seemed to have his own laptop computer and is going to Europe and doesn't seem to be struggling with his parents in convincing them to let him go. Ana in the end makes the decision to go and receives her Father's and sister's blessing but not her Mother's. You see Ana walking the streets in New York by herself with a smile like Mary Tyler Moore.
I wonder if she will get really home sick and transfer to a school in L.A.

Well I think that it's a good and wise thing to share a bedroom, phone and computer etc. in the family. I never had my own phone line and sometimes we didn't have a phone. We my family don't even have a computer and we only had one TV in the apartment/studio/hotel and sometimes we didn't. My brother might of have had a small TV at one time but we all shared it. I can remember going to other people's houses and they would have TVs even in the children's room to me this was odd but then became something I was influenced to desire too because other children making fun of you and you not being cool really effects you.

Basically this movie showed a family's value in sharing and working together in order to survive but Ana getting an education can help the family survive but only if Ana goes to college with the focus in mind that this is for the family and how what she is learning can be applied. Also when you don't have the funds to go to college it makes it hard in getting a so called higher education and when you are offered a scholarship it's hard to pass up but I believe that more research could've been done to get her a full scholarship to a college nearby.

I could never leave to a place far away from my family I couldn't do it. I will never forget what my Daddy told me is that he stays here in SF because of me and my brother. I may live in another apartment but it is still close by to my Mommy and Daddy. My younger brother I wish he lived closer but we make ways to stay in contact with him. However it still is hard but he is a bus/car ride away.

Does the ending of the film conflict with what you learned at POOR or does it agree with what you learned at POOR regarding individuation?

POOR wouldn't like or agree with the ending because it doesn't translate interdependency. The ending does translate individuation.
Interdependency is a family no matter what the members consist of meaning even if it's a single parent home the family stays close and shares which helps build a strong family unit which to me is resistance to capitalism, nourishment and one of the best medicines for depression, poverty and learning disabilities etc?
Individuation is separation of the family members everybody out for them selves, wanting everything as your own and not sharing etc. Ana leaving off to college to another state without her Mothers approval is an example and in the beginning her not wanting to work at the factory with her sister and mother is another. Lastly and most importantly here's Ana in another state going to a top college with full scholarship but what about her Mother? What about her Mother and all she has done and does and is? This scene in the end angers me and is sad. I know that I have caused my Mother pain (not being respectful or patient) when I should be at all times and will apologize for it for a life time. Prior to me working with POOR my Mother and me was always in relations we never separated, in one way we still stayed close but we weren't as close as we once were when I was really young and I miss that. I gave in to the pressures of a society that I'm a outkast in. POOR enforces me and others to build a relationship with our family where we respect at all times and draw close to are family in the means of making a better life not pulling away to be so called acceptedwhen this world rejects our Mothers then turns around and rejects her children. Ana has rejected her Mother and probably doesn't look at it like that, but that is what has happened.

What would an alternative ending look like?

Ana stays home with her family gets a scholarship to a nearby college. She goes to school part time and sill works with her sister and Mother making dresses. She helps her sister Estella open up her own Boutique where they no longer are working as cheap labor/sweatshop for Bloomingdales. Estella is making her own clothing line with sizes that fit women of full figures to plus sizes and they are able to provide the family with Health insurance and the Mother no longer has to sew but still works with her daughter and shares her stories with the women that work there.

Lovin? Latina?s from Califas

The film depicts a family?s struggle to keep itself together for the sake of its economic, cultural, and physical survival
while battling dominant western cultural forces that promote its dismantling an d the individuation of its members. The
beginning of the movie depicts the protagonist, Anna, the youngest daughter, as a model of Western individuated success.
The opening scene shows her battling all the apparent obstacles to this success: she swi ftly ignores her mother?s whining
calls for attention as she marches to school on time, she takes a number of buses escaping her barrio home to get to an
elite high school in Beverly Hills, and she hides her poverty as she mingles with her wealthy schoolmates.

These seemingly positive strides are overwhelmed when Ana announces to her teacher that she must forego college
because she can not afford it. Under her matriarchial mother?s command, Ana?s family is initially understood to be the
enemy to Ana?s progress, unwilling and unable to pay for Ana?s college education.
As the movie progresses, this Western individuated model of success is subtly challenged. Ana begins to go to work with
her mother and sister at the dress factory that her sister owns. There Ana gradually learns to appreciate the ways in which
her family works to support each other. Her high-minded ideals of individuated, college-won, family-removed success are
humbled once Ana comprehends the great sacrifices and collective effort made by her family in order to keep itself intact.
Anna?s prior culturally enforced ideals of self-made success had obscured the great debt she owed to her family?s love and
sacrifice as well as her accountability to them.

The euro-centricity and class privilege of Ana?s model of success are exemplified in the character of her short term
boyfriend. He is a wealthy, upper middle class white boy who has everything given to him, desires creating an artificial
situatio n (teaching abroad) in order to understand suffering, and whose parents are nowhere in sight. Through his
character, the individuated model of success is seen to be a natural extension of his economic stability and white
individuated family model. A nna?s belief in this model is seen to deny her very existence as a Mexican-American, lower
class member of a strong family.
Ana is awarded a full scholarship to Columbia at the end of the movie (because Columbia loves Latinas from California-
de e) which she eventually takes in defiance of her mother?s wishes and her family?s needs. This decision symbolizes Ana?s
struggle between her two cultures. While she has come to understand the vital role she plays in her family- not as a "good
daught er" who must bear the burdens of her family at the cost of her own life (a Eurocentric definition) but as a privileged
member of a strong collective to whom she is accountable- she is also fed the dominant ideals which valorize individuation
and uprooting the family. The movie does a good job of demonstrating how difficult this decision comes to be for Anna so
that strongly individuated audience members aren?t on their feet cheering when she finally makes the decision to leave.

Many times, the movie does depict the family as an old-fashioned, sometimes backwards unit. Ana?s mother is
sometimes a caricature of an overbearing matriarch who is overly dependant on her family. This depiction easily feeds
notions that the family inhibits p ersonal growth. Many who have seen the movie come away believing that it is just another
right-of-passage film where the daughter must make the tough but ultimately correct decision to leave the nest and gain
her independence. I was a little upset that the movie didn?t spell out the problem of individuation. At the same time, I
understand that the movie probably had to be made the way it was to appeal to larger audiences.

As a final note I?ve experienced the same struggle Anna did in many ways- most immediately is this struggle over
research. Ana?s idealization of college is akin to my own idealization of research. Just as she believed that she would be
helping her family in some long term eventual way by leaving her family and becoming educated, I?ve believed that doing
research will in some long term, hopeful, eventual way help the people "studied". In doing so, Ana and I conveniently
ignore the present reality. The success we envision is removed, uncertain and ultim ately self-serving. Understanding this
took an initial leap in consciousness for both of us and a continual readjustment of values for me.

The end of the movie showed a newly confident and made-up Ana strutting down Times Square towards the end of a
corner. The scene is made to parallel the opening scene where she is slumped over and trudging down the LA streets
towards the bus stops to get to school. It?s interesting that at the end of the block where Ana is walking, a large travel bus
is waiting. The final shot is of the bus pulling away before a cut to the credits. It was my hope that the bus was containing
Ana on her way back to LA and that a second more of the shot would show that Ana was no longer standing on the corner.
But this was my hope and may not have been the actual ending. Ana?s choice to go to Columbia conflicted with POOR?s
teachings on individuation. In POOR version for Ana and Isabelle, the girls, if they must, go to school but to ones that is
close t o home so that they maintain their kinship and communal ties. The ending conflicted with what I have learned at
POOR because Ana decided to individuate and abandon her family.

An alternative ending would have Ana and Isabelle at schools close t o home maintaining their communal ties and their
familial obligations. It would also have a moral audit of the Columbia University California Latina Trust. The money would
be taken away from its individuating purposes and would be given to POOR Maga zine for expansion and accredidation of its
Poverty Studies and Community Building Programs. If I said anything more, I would just be stealing Ashley?s ending
because it was so good.

Revisiting this movie with my mother and being able to give her the handout of all the other interns? answers has given
an alternative ending to our conversation. She says that she has been thinking and rethinking her Westernized belief
system. We spent much of the last two days trying to dissect where it c ame from in her family and her education and also
how it had invaded out own family life. We also started talking for the first time about how this western model is hurting our
family. How do I not sound like a telethon or a really bad sitcom when I say- thank you POOR for helping to make my
family closer. Awwwwww!

Soy Como Soy

1. How does the film deal with individuation?

It portrays Ana's family struggling in East LA and it shows Ana struggling with the desire and need to be herself and to find her identity, and the dilemma and dynamics between the family but primarily the women. She wants an education, she doesn't want to be stuck in a sweatshop and feel obligate d to her family duties. She doesn't necessarily want to leave them but feels trapped. It is obvious that her family's beliefs do not coincide w/ individuation. Her household included three generations, plus her Tia and her primos. I believe it shows a c ontrast of Latin Culture and tenets, that are family oriented but not always healthy, and Euro-centric thought/individuation but did possibly have an underlying tone thought of individuation.

2. Does the film agree w/ what you learned at POOR regar ding individuation?

The answer to be truthful, is both yes and no. I suppose that scholarships aren't given with an exchange rate: i.e. allowances made for people to go to the best schools and yet be able to remain with their families at home (bum mer). So, I would say would say that unfortunately, a decision has to be made that may separate the family temporarily or perhaps forever, I believe it depends on the family's desire to be cohesive and healthy. what I have learned at POOR is, I feel, very valid and pertinent but then I must also look at Isabel's move/decision to go to Columbia University. I know it was a hard choice for her to make, but she is alright and her relationship with her mother remains intact even though they are geographically separated; it does not have to stay that way forever. I'm sure she will return or facilitate a way to live with or near her mother... Then again, what if she did indeed move to Cuba? Would that not be considered the product of individuation? I guess what I am saying is that there are many issues involved that contradict each other and the family's of Ana and Isabel will have to put forth the effort, love , and work to remain a family: to remain whole so that Euro-Centric values do not invade their familie s cultures or tenets. It does not work to just tell an adolescent or young adult, "No" and thus have them feel obligated to their families for the wrong reasons, to feel trapped in their love for their family.

3. What would an alternative ending be?

Shit here you go...what happened to the easy questions? I can think of many, but how about this one? Ana goes to Columbia for a year, maybe two and then transfers back to California (perhaps Berkley or Stanford) and is closer to her family, can see them, and still have a chance at good schooling. In the meantime: Ana has talked her sister Estella into pursuing better contracts and to start selling her own line of clothing. Estella gets a small business loan to get started, format, and present her new business. This enables Estella, their mother, and the women who are employed by her to earn a living wage. Then they create a additional line of clothing called "Real Women" for real women with curves. Ana's mother tries to be loving, but still can not be demonstrative and is still too critical of her daughters (although she now tries to listen once and awhile.) Her Grandpa is still at home with the family and they continue to have a beautiful relationship he live to be 99. Her dad still works hard but is not discontent in his decision to give his nephews more responsibility w/ the business (landscaping.) Ana majors in Literature and minors in Latin Anthropology/Cultures and becomes a renown Latina author. Her novels are of Latina/Latin histories, c ultures causes and life. "Soy Como Soy", her first novel is now a prerequisite for college in California high school classes. She is acclaimed for her ability to merge creative writing, poignancy, clarity, insight and humor without losing cultural or family values.

Sacrifices

Student: Mike Vizcarra

The theme of individuation is seen throughout the film. The main character, Anna, is torn between helping her family
or going off to college at Columbia. This is where the heart of the movie lies: the constant conflict of whether to contribute
to the family/community or be individualistic and be on your own.

The ending of the movie conflicts with what I learned at Poor. The begin with, Poor taught me that taking care of the
family is first and foremost. You have to make sacrifices to help out the family; sacrifices to the individual self. In the
movie, Anna as faces with staying with the family and helping her sister?s company or she could go to Columbia on a full
scholarship.

One possible ending could have been for Anna to not go to Columbia and stay and help her family. She also could
have applied to another local University and be closer to her family. If she went to all the trouble of going to Beve rly Hills
High, going to UCLA or USC would?ve been just as easy for her. Also, she would have been closer to her family and still
would be able to help her sister?s clothing company. That would be the ideal situation. If she could get a full scholar ship to
Columbia, why couldn?t she get a full scholarship to other colleges? Granted LA is not as cosmopolitan as NYC (Harlem), her
education would practically be the same from other prestigious schools in LA.

Cultural Expectations

Student(Teacher?s .Assistant): Alex Cuff

How does the film deal with individuation?
at first i thought the movie didn?t really deal with individuation. it certainly addressed the issue of
individuation on many levels. most obviously between ana and her mother, carmen. if ana and carmen?s relationship
was the only relationship looked at in the film, then i would have to say that the filmmaker wasn?t seeing the
issue of individuation, the situation from the mother?s point of view, at all. but although we are given a stronger
view and allowed to connect more with ana then her mother, other subtler aspects of the movie brilliantly offer the
audience a point of view other than ana?s.
1. the sister ? the role of estella?s charac ter was, to me, ambiguous. ana does toward the end of the movie
appreciate how hard her sister works when she borrows money from her father to pay the rent on the factory space
but i feel like the overall view of estella is negative from both the m other?s point of view (which provides
entertainment from the audience) but also because ana calls her business a "sweat shop" . . . i guess i wanted to
see more activism on ana?s part in at least discussing why she felt her sister?s business is a sweat shop. i mean
we know why she says that but what can she do, besides iron, to help that situation?

the women who work for estella ? the women at the factory certainly validate carmen and her cultural
expectations and ideas when ana comes to work for estella. again, although our (my, other individuated audience
members?) "pity" lies more with ana for having to work there and also to deal with her mother?s negativity
regarding ana, we see through the reaction of the other women, that ana is acting a bit spoiled. it also points out
the importance of family in the latino culture. one example being that the woman who gets married and moves to
mexico with both her mother and sister who had worked there with her. and another woman wh o tells the story of her
father?s death and the way in which she pretends he is alive and wheelchairs him out of the hospital cause she
can?t afford to pay the bills.

Overall i think that the film is depicting the young woman ana and her "pr oblem" being that her family is old
fashioned and doesn?t understand her. threaded thoughout the film is positive moments of her family life especially
with her sister, grandfather, and father ? but the film?s answer was that she just needed do what she needed to do
for herself regardless of her relationship to her mother. there were scenes that related the filmmakers cognizance
of the sensitive relationship between mother and daughter: on the bus she sees a mom with a crying daughter and to
me that was to show ana, and us, the sacrifices mother?s go through to have children. the situation with jimmy was
great in providing a contrast between the privileges and those that aren?t privileged. him on his ibook, with his
volvo, and with his plan on meeting her in europe.

Does the ending of the film conflict with what you learned at Poor or does it agree with what you learned at Poor
regarding individuation? the end of the film agrees with what we learned at poor regarding ind ividuation. we learned that
individuation affects non-european descendent family who now live in cultures, america in this case, that strongly promote
individuation. this is clearly an issue in this film.

What would an alternative ending l ook like? um, there could be a few alternatives....the most obvious is that ana?s
teacher could have helped her look into universities around LA or closer than NYC after he first witnessed the parents
reaction to him visiting at her graduation party. his role was definitely "teacher knows best" and we in the audience trust
him more since he speaks spanish (i know that sounds dumb but it is true.) another ending could be that ana does leave
for nyc but she takes the time to explain to her pare nts that with a prestigious university degree she will be more of an
asset to her family in the long run cause she will be able to earn more but that she?ll be back for xmas, holidays, etc. and
plans to move home after school or look into transferri ng down the line. another ending would have been that she helps
estella get her own line of dresses off the ground and figures out a way to rid of the nasty middle woman designer who is
selling her dresses for $500, $600. then she could go to colle ge after that or go locally while working part time with estella
and taking the pressure off her mother who has been working so long.

A Full Scholarship

By Student: Connie Lu

Ana, the main character in the film, is a young Latino woman in her senior year in high school. She is a very intelligent
student, who works hard. Her teacher encourages her to apply to Columbia University in NY, but she explains to him that
her family can?t afford to pay the tuition. Ana?s mother is a gainst her daughter going to college because she needs to work
to support the family. her mother forces Ana to work at her sister?s clothing factory. But Ana still wants to leave her family to
be her own "individual" person at Columbia University. She looks down upon her family and sees her sister?s clothing factory
as a sweat shop.

Ana takes the advice of her teacher and applies for college, despite her mother?s wishes. She ends up getting accepted
to Columbia University with a full scholarship and leaving her family. I thought her mother would come out of her room to
say good-bye to Ana, but it broke my heart to see a severed relationship between a mother and daughter because there?s
something so special about the bond and unity that is shared within a family that sticks together.

The ending of the film conflicts with what I learned at Poor because Ana leaves her family. She wants to pursue her own
future, education, boyfriend, and separate herself from her family. Her desire to become independent from her family fits
under the American individualistic mindset of our society. However, at one point in the film, Ana does improve upon her
individualistic ways and realizes how hard her family works to support each other, which brings her closer to her family and
makes her more willing to work at her sister?s factory.

Perhaps, Ana should have applied to a college and scholarship within the LA area, so that she could live at home and go to a nearby school, be close to her family, and support them financially.

When One becomes Many..

Student: Ashley Adams

In the film, the daughter, Ana, becomes individualized. She leaves her family in LA to pursue formal education in NY
even tho ugh her mother refused to say ?good-bye?. Ana leaves against her mother?s wishes, then the movie ends without
showing the viewers the flip-side of becoming individualized and how painful the process is for all involved?There are no
scenes of how Ana copes in NYC without any members of her family and there are no scenes of how Ana?s family and
especially Mother handle their day to day life without her in their home, in their city.

The movie shows what a working class inter-dependent family experiences as their daughter becomes individualized.
The ending of the film shows Ana walking down the street in NYC with a smile on her face. I gathered that the film was
promoting such decisions by the ending. Towards the end, I thought that Ana would not leave and I was surprised at the
outcome. Very much like Isabel.

The ending of the film conflicts with what I have learned at Poor regarding the issues of individuation. I have learned
that family and community are the most import ant part of survival, and one of the most anti-capitalist behaviors and
actions that one can participate in. When the ONE becomes a part of the MANY, the individual?s need shift from personal
gain to collective gain, which is the exact opposite of c apitalism and the truth about our existence is our interdependency.

Ana would choose to stay with her family in LA realizing she is a part of something bigger than herself. This decision is
make just before going to the airport to fly to NY. S he does not receive her mother?s blessing to leave home, so she does
not go. Instead she applies to UCLA and gets accepted with a full ride scholarship. She helps out with her sister?s factory
work when needed. Her sister, begins designing a dress l ine for ?real women that have curves?. The dresses are made in her
factory and instead of getting $18 for a dress that is sold in department stores for $600, she begins to sell the dress all
over the world via internet, for $300 each, and she gets a s many orders as she did as a contractor. Ana helps her with this
transition, as Ana helped her to see the slave labor, sweatshop conditions they were working with to survive. They, as a
family, changed the course of their survival by staying togeth er and helping each other actualize dreams.

Hospitale Generale..

Student: Andy Dellarocca

Individuation was certainly THE underlying theme of the film. The girl
wanting to leave, the mother wanting her to stay not just because she is
going to miss her, but because she wants her daughter to now give back, and
work for the family. A cultural struggle ensues, as the daughter is
prompted to leave for college (Beverly Hills culture) because "it is the
best thing for her", while her mother and father, do not want the family to
break apart (Mexican culture).

The ending of the film is not conclusive. What occurs- the girl living in
Manhattan -certainly goes against Poor's doctrine. However, the filmmaker
does not reveal to the audience whether she agrees that it is the best
decision. The filmmaker leaves her opinion intentionally ambiguous. The
focus of the film is the struggle between individuation and collectivism.
Therefore, the ending does not conflict with what we learned at Poor,
because at Poor we learned that the conflict exists. Poor, however, would
prefer that she stay at home. So Dee was mad.

An alternative ending, naturally, would be the girl staying ho me and working
in her sister's factory, laughing, dancing in her underwear, ironing
clothes, and talking with her friends about Jose's illegitimate child and
how he secretly dates boys, and how the alien on "Hospital Generale" falls
in love with a sock.

by Joe B.

Saturday and Sunday, two hectic tiring days for a guy like me.

I messed up with finding a letter with keys to the office in the old union hall on 255 9th street in San Francisco.

I’ll start from Friday. I’m at friends home she’s saying she’ll be at Horrace Man Middle School to be a facilitator and speaker on how to en-power the youth.

Half what’s said left my ears as I’m ready to be home and crash before going out.

She came over looked at my apartment and helped turn my dirty place into a cleaner better place to live, I’m at her place thanking her by washing dishes piled up that day.

Though trying hard to get away from that chore. (Which I rarely do in my place I’m always washing something up at hers).

Saying yeah, understand I leave. Friday at work I’m reminded.

By Saturday before the day before POOR’s Book Release Party sleep made me stay in bed before practicing Yoga’s Cat, Dog, plank, and sun salute (there’s a name for it but don’t have the paper with me).

My phone rings again its my boss saying no one is here to help her all this work must be done before Sunday!

I didn’t want to go down there to help with whatever she has to do because the whole project seems to grow from a simple idea and get more complex as more ideas take hold.

I as part of the ‘Po Poets and author of a book was ready to let it all go without being published.

Looking longingly at my dented pillow, wrinkled sheets and warm inviting covers I moan a slow sigh and left the tempting sleep zone.

The phone rings, its my friend calls reminding me yet again about publicly speaking at that middle school.

This time the whole message gets through my alert brain but I tell her I’ll sleep some more then call her its 10:22 am.

My boss is the only one there, the door that was supposed to be open is locked shut.

I wait for someone to open up the auditorium door and also for a port-a-pottie with combination lock.

First the portable pottie with an engaging gentlemen and Mr. Earnest with a key to the door both were pleasant even tempered people to deal with and have an honest conversation with.

After we fiddled with the combination lock opening it a few times we’re ready for the auditorium.

Ashley and I helped place white butcher paper across the walls on the second floor covering all the walls.

I was Ashley with keen in-her-mathematical skills measuring out the width, length, and height as I help roll the paper out that really gets the work done.
As Ashley, Lisa, and I are placing a huge graphic or drawing of the "Poverty Hero" against the glass I’m push as hard as I can using yellow putty stick onto the widows.

Either the glass is old and brittle, the window pane is loose or I was forcing it too much whatever happened it shatters suddenly with most of the glass going outside.

Joe! You Cut? Lisa said, Ashley with a worried look or her face.

I’m looking saying "Yes, I’m cut" feeling a glass sliver inside and wiggling it to get it out or it’ll keep cutting deeper.

It really pooled out in dripping. "I think it’s a deep cut" I say doing a stupid automatic male response to pain as the nerves in my thumb screams its throbbing beat.

"It hurts so the nerves are working." (Where is all this dumb-brave-the-pain-crap coming from?

It keeps coming from my mouth unbidden because inside I’m saying I’m still bleeding! How far did I cut my self, was there more than one sliver of glass in my thumb?

Lisa or Ashley went to get bandages while washed out my thumb with soap and water in the men’s restroom.

The wound kept gushing maroon.

Lisa wrapped a paper towel over it which quickly turns crimson.

Towel after tissue after towel the same result a continuous crimson tide.

I’m getting a little worried thinking I really may have nicked an artery or vein!

I have band aids on and every three hours replaced them and my thumb continued to bleed soaking the band aid.

Soon the throbbing is less and red turns pink as pain lessens.

I made a joke about bleeding for my art.

Downstairs as soon as begin moving tables, chairs, electrical equipment my thumb begin to throb and bandage turning red.

The healing process is being interrupted I could to two things keep lifting things losing blood or lift a huge object and go home to rest.

While Lisa talks to people, Ashley and Marissa are busing I pick up the huge 8 or 10 foot ladder, place it where Ashley, Lisa, and Marissa will be able to place butcher paper and promote the even on the vast union hall wall.

Then I ask to leave. "Sure we can do most of this without you." Lisa says.

Its 12:30 that kills the nap I call My friend saying I’ll be at the even but I wasn’t clear where I was leaving so she stays in apartment waiting for me. "Sorry Ms. M. Villaluna for the mixup."

Taking wrong bus but find the place in record time, race upstairs to the 3rd floor 309 for the Youth Movements, (Youth Commission).

San Francisco’s Youth Commission is unique in that they are appointed by both the Mayor and Supervisors of San Francisco.

San Francisco Youth Commission The San Francisco Youth Commission was created in 1995.

As stated in the Charter, the Youth Commission was created to "advise the Board of Supervisors
and Mayor on issues relating to children and youth." The San Francisco Youth Commission bridges the gap between youth and government.

The Youth Commission plays a vital role in ensuring that youth have a voice in decisions and policy that affect young people.

The Above as stated is from the: www.ci.sf.ca.us/youth-commission.

Thing is, the pre and elder teens on the Y.C. have power to influence both the Mayor and Board of Supervisor’s on situations that directly involve youth San Francisco and ripples through the country to everywhere else.
take their power across this country changes will be made and not at slow pace.

If other pre teens and elder youth - oops this is where I have to amend the terms older and elder because Ms. M says its an oxymoron because they're all young people.

Logically speaking if 40 and older adults are old to youth in their early teens and 20's wouldn't late teens 18 and early 20 year olds seem as old to them?
Ms. M. is fond of saying "'Keepin It Real

But to a 12 year old Y.C. wouldn't a 18 to 20 yr. seem old to them too?

The Youth Commission began in 1995 if the youngest Y.C. lets say 12-13 he, she was at the time is by 2005 ten years older and is now 22 or 23 wouldn't the next group coming up see him or her as older/elder youth?

Even though most people would say their all young people younger Y.C.'s may automatically think older/elder and as their mentors.

I wonder if all the Y.C.'s had a private panal to dicuss this it would be very interesting who would be consider as an elder youth (oops, said elder again).

I don't know maybe the younger Y.C's can email me and tell me who they think as older/elder, to them adult allies or mentor's to them.

I'd relay it without revealing who said who they chose but the older/elder youth (sorry again) will finally not be under a blind
We'er All Youth Umbrella.

Ms. M. said to amend the the elder/older youth thing and I have but not exactly the way she wished but I only "'Keepin It Real, Girl, oh sorry 'um Young Mature Adult.

She'll hate me but I'm being just as real and logical as I can.

Its seems, if she really thought about it - she is an older/elder adult to younger Y.C's and a heaven forbid - a role model as well.

Meanwhile my friend sleeps or is preparing for her big day.

End-Pt. 1 of Facilitators & Books.

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by Valerie Schwartz/PoorNewsNetwork Community Journalist and Poverty Scholar

For the Poor People of the World

There is no respect

Living or Dead

Ode to the throes of the Poor,

lost and forgotten and not mourned

The homeless can not rest in peace….

……excerpt from "Barely in yo grave" by A. Faye Hicks, Po’ Poets Project

I have lost more than a few friends to homeless deaths, as a matter of fact it is almost too depressing to think for about very long because the body count is high. . I have known homeless people, friends and acquaintances who have died from things as varied as exposure/ hypothermia, heart attacks, seizures, blood poisoning, staff infections, Hep C, AIDS, alcohol poisoning, overdose, suicide, renal failure, diabetes, flesh eating disease, abscesses, pneumonia, and violence. I myself had quite a few close encounters with the Angel of Death while living on the streets of San Francisco. To say that I cheated death would be an outright lie. I was fortunately in the right/wrong place enough times to rob the death angel, boldly and forthright from taking myself and other people on the streets.. Most of these deaths are and would have been preventable. In 2000,the Department of Public Heath stopped counting homeless deaths and the study of homeless deaths. The DPH claimed that due to a shortage of funding, employees, staff, and a change of priority the study would end.

It's dreary gray Monday afternoon typical of January in San Francisco. I am standing at the cable car turn around at Powell and Market Streets as the people walk by to look and the diverse array of street vendors and their wares. As a woman stares out the second floor window of the GAP, people are getting ready to start the "Homeless Death Funeral Procession and Protest." We are dressed in black, some have their faces painted in the stark black and white death mask as this is a protest of a serious erasure of people by Dr. Mitch Katz of the DPH. Folks from Coalition on Homelessness, People Organized to Win Employment Rights, POOR Magazine and many more economic justice organizers are gathered here to demand that the Department of Public Health reinstate the annual homeless death study and to acknowledge the lives of the homeless we have lost here in the city. Clipboards are being passed through the crowd to gather signatures to endorse the reinstatement of the homeless death count as well as food for those who are hungry.

"Every year in San Francisco there are at least one hundred homeless deaths", said Machiko Saito one of the organizers of the event. According to statistics since 1987 more than 1,600 have died homeless here in San Francisco. The Tenderloin Times first started the tracking of homeless deaths in 1987 and even though they have folded, they started a monumentally important task: the death count of our city's homeless. The Department of Public Health started keeping track of the deaths in 1997-1999. Information from the Medical Examiners Office was used to create a database on sites of deaths, preventable deaths and information on deaths caused from intentional and non- intentional injuries. The tally was abandoned for 2000 due to lack of funding and the need in September 2001, for a study on "bio-terrorism" superceding the homeless death study.

There had been a "Community Advisory Board" that used and implemented this data for health outreach workers to hamper deaths and educate the public. It also served to create a database of what information was pertinent to creating solutions within the health and social systems of San Francisco.

There is a black plywood coffin and some flowers, from the side of them steps Madigan, a mental-health advocate, and a self described, "punk rock cellist." Madigan told the people how being present the march and "protesting and organizing is good for your mental health."

" We ain't gonna take this shit cuz people are dying!" said Garth Ferguson, a long time advocate for the homeless. He told us of how he "stumbled across a dead man" in 1987 and that was the beginning of the homeless death count that the Tenderloin Times carried the news of, the news that the corporate media would not cover.

Through the start of this homeless death count, the literal stumbling of Garth Ferguson, several things of major import happened. 1. The Mac Millan Drop-In Center opened thus facilitating a place for homeless folk that had been turned away from the shelters for being intoxicated which left them susceptible to hypothermia to get in from out doors. 2. A death prevention: an outreach team that combines outreach mental health, substance abuse and medical services to those at risk. 3. The "Substance Grievance Procedure" to help ensure that addicts who would be put out of treatment, receive other treatment rather than be put out in the streets with nowhere to go making relapse inevitable, especially after tolerance levels being lower from being in treatment.

"In the last six years I've lost fifteen people", said Delphine Brody. A member of the Substance Mental Health Workers Coalition, Delphine says, "People are dying due to a lack of access" and that when Prop N goes into effect "Chances are people won't be able to get into hotels on fifty-nine dollars a month. Ms Brody talked of how it was Dr. Mitch Katz of DPH that had made the decision to end the count and study of homeless deaths, "He thinks it is more important to fight bio-terrorism.

I didn't even want to try and think, it made me so very sad and angry to even try to count all those who have passed, that I have known, who have passed here in San Francisco homeless. Some weren't counted as homeless even though they most assuredly were. Some slept in their vehicles, other peoples rooms, apartments, basements, or couch surfed and those that sidewalk surfed the gritty pissy pavement of the city finding refuge in the slivers of cardboard, where they could. They were not legal tenants anywhere, but still not listed as homeless. Some had people give them addresses upon their death for reasons of burial, mortuary service, and in the end it all comes down to money doesn't it? They don't even have a paupers graveyard anymore, I'm not sure what they do with the ashes of the homeless. I know the morgue wanted six-hundred dollars to have my friend Tiffany's ashes sent to her mother in Oregon. I believe it is imperative that we have the homeless death study to help prevent these deaths that are so unnecessary and re-implement the education of harm reduction and the valuable information that can be obtained through this study and to acknowledge the people of our city in death and to pay homage to them.

Bianca Henry, an advocate of housing for the poor and homeless then stepped up to the microphone and said, "Every year we lose family to the street. Bianca brought to us the knowledge that the largest growing segment of homeless across our nation are families and that the conditions should be changed. Says Bianca, "Families are being left out, for the City to leave children on the street is not okay... It is not a crime to be poor."

"Bay City Love", an accapella trio of three African-American men then gave a beautiful tribute to those who have passed on our streets homeless. They started singing 'Down by the Riverside" in a three part harmony and then helped Madigan and Machiko in the chants and songs for the march.

The march/procession started to move up the sidewalk chanting and singing as we, in a number of what I would estimate at seventy people, went up Market to Seventh Street where we made the first of several stops to honor those who have passed away. On Seventh between Mission and Market we stopped and paid tribute to Teresa Guerra. Yolanda Catzalco of POWER spoke about Teresa, her friend who died in a shelter where no one called the paramedics for help until ten hours had passed and nothing could be done. "Teresa was one of the forefront leaders against Prop N...she took on the big one, she took on Gavin Newsom, ", said Yolanda. Teresa had been an advocate for the poor and homeless. She worked with POWER and fought for jobs and housing for people.

We then went to United Nations Plaza to evoke the memory of a personal friend of mine Cesar Cruz a very good, kind man. I had known Cesar since about oh 1993 or 94 when he first came to the Tenderloin he used to work at the Western Hotel and eventually became homeless and lived in Civic Center with his dog, "Bear". L.S. Wilson spoke first at the statue and the end of the Plaza at Hyde St., "Cesar was as much a fixture of this city as this statue...he was a leader of the U. N. Plaza homeless."

Another man spoke, an elder. He talked about how "Cesar was loved by a lot of the people here" and how Cesar had been instrumental in organizing the homeless, Cesar's generosity and how Cesar, a Veteran, had been a diplomat as a homeless person. The gentleman also said, " In seven years I've seen forty-nine people that I know pass" and followed with a message to the Mayor.. " F' you, Mayor Brown we are still here and more determined!"

From the Plaza we walked up to Mc Allister and Larkin to honor yet another homeless death, that of Trent Hayward. Trent was a talented writer, advocate, and a volunteer for the Coalition on Homelessness, Street Spirit and POOR Magazine. Allison Lum quoted a passage written by Trent to the DPH in regard to the fence that was put up on the corner of Larkin and Mc Allister, where Trent lived, houselessly, in which Trent said the DPH might as well put up signs that said, "Please refrain from dying on our property." The fence was put up because people had been camping out there and apparently dying on DPH property.

On the way towards City Hall I ran into an old friend that I haven't seen for about a year and a half, April. April informed me that while she was in treatment/program her lover, our friend, Dean Lockart died in front of the Post Office on Golden Gate and Hyde Streets last February 2002. I had known Dean since 1984, he was a gentle and good person. It is weird how things happen. I was just thinking about Dean and April not more than a week ago and wondering if they were still surviving out there and today I have my question answered. I couldn't help but get mad at myself for wondering about them as if perhaps if I hadn't thought about them maybe I wouldn't have had to know the truth and maybe Dean would still be alive. I am glad we did not go to Turk and Hyde for I would have broke down thinking about the loss of Mama, my friend and a friend to many, a vehicularily housed elder who died of a heart attack in her van, homeless. I am growing tired of the truth and that is: The city's poor homeless are in dire need of service and the truth is that I am sick and tired of seeing people die out there when it isn't necessary, not ordained, nor part of any divine plan.

Our final stop was at 101 Grove St. at the DPH's Public Health and Safety building. Outside on the steps and the entrances to the building the SFPD was present and informed people that they could not take in any signs placards or posterboards. I expected a search but they allowed us in and were actually pretty reserved. Mary Kate from Caduesus Center spoke before we went into the public meeting of the Health Commission. "I"m really sad that we are all here...what it speaks to is that here is a group of people here who care", "These lives do not have value, this is the message we are receiving", said Mary kate. She then added that if it was smallpox it wouldn't have happened, that it would have been addressed and taken care of. Before we walked into the doors she said, "Every life has value." Mary Kate then read the list of demands on the steps that the organizers, supporters, and the homeless were standing.

We are demanding that Department of Public Health work to:

1. Prevent Homeless Deaths

2. Count and Study homeless deaths within the Health Department

3. Re-institute homeless people's Over-site Committee to make recommendations for change

4. Adhere to existing San Francisco Definition of Homelessness in the study.

We then entered the building and went up the steps to the third floor where the Health Commission was meeting, we entered, perhaps forty people into the hearing room while others stood in the hall. Chanting and singing started, the gavel banged and banged, the chair said we would not be acknowledged. Wrong, it was he who was not acknowledged: for the tribute to our friends, loved ones, and citizens was louder than the gavel.

L.S. Wilson of the Coalition on Homelessness then approached the Chairman and the Health Commission. He stood at the dais and into the microphone he spoke clearly and loudly in behalf of those who have passed, those presently homeless, and served the following Summons Malpractice Lawsuit. The room quieted as L.S. read the summons to the defendant Dr. Mitch Katz. When he finished the chanting and singing resumed until everyone exited the room and went outside.

Although it was a serious and somewhat somber afternoon and at times sadly reflective: I had a sense of unity to come and that the tear in the fabric of humanity is being repaired slowly, methodically, and with love and with a voice that will not allow itself to be stifled or censored any longer. "We are still here and more determined."

by Joe B.

Pt. 2 of Facilitators & Books.

Ok, I had left with a sliced thumb not knowing how deep the cut or if slivers of glass are still working their way through the cut.

Also I amended the older/elder

(actually I expound more explaining what I meant.)

Ms. M. won’t like it any better the other way but as 3rd editor she can have me not write it but if she does its because of her views not the actual reality of her
"We’re all youth" statement.

Off the bus racing to sign in, ask where to go, and if I’m on time.

I am a minute or two late so up 3 flights of stairs I go in room 309 Youth Movement (Youth Commission).

I don’t why I’m in there no longer a youth though invited by one and as I look for my friend I also listened in.

I was about self en-powered an how to expand that to those feeling their voices don’t matter because of their age.
(Been there, it’s a systematic withering of will when young people want to know more that adults wish them to and yet young folks as in every generation will take the reigns of leadership: problem with adults they want to control when power is given).

Like child prodigies racing with intelligence, passion, sensibilities, far beyond their contemporaries or older adults the pace of most adults and their own contemporaries out race what was once a set process.

Youth remake, redo, outrun adult processes and adults not understanding or in fear for their children’s fate and future try slowing their pace.

But youth will have their say, their way, in languages maybe unfamiliar to adults but right for them which the way of all constant change.

As an older invited guest my main job is to observe, learn, keep my mouth shut and mind open.

After that lunch and more teachers, T-assistants, students teachers and here I am an office manager/ columnist, soon-to-be-author not knowing what I’m doing here keeping my mouth shut, eyes and thoughts open.

Change the bandage again over a garbage can I’m about to race upstairs before going to the bathroom because Ms. M. Villaluna had no time for lunch

(being nearly late a facilitator because I didn’t go to her home and she waited until the last possible second – what can I say I almost mucked up her presentation but she knows my mind even if I didn’t).

So’s there’s some bladder strain it’s a deserved for almost messing up someone’s important presentation.

After getting the food on the table and later covering it with two napkins I race back as my bladder pounds full of bio poisons and toxins made within me.

Trying to be inconspicuous does me no good as Ms. M. has me sitting slightly across from near the podium where she's speaking from.

She wore faded bluejeans and a demure white top (blouse, skirt top, I don’t know I’m not into fashion for men or fem’s wear.

Usually she’d speed through but I’m glad we talked before and I suggested slowing down her words and not seeming to hyperventilate because of nervous excitement.

I didn’t want her to fail that’s another reason I didn’t want to be there if she flopped it would only be on her.

I didn’t want to be added pressure on her but here I am because she invited me there so like a fly stabbed on a pin I’m sitting listening closely.

It went well and in the question/answer session which she played in a game about how youth changed the world.

I believe because I was part of group 4 Ms. M. may have not given us points for being close to the age mark of individual young people creating change in the world.

Yeah, I get one question correct but some others that others on my team that was a year or two off wasn’t given points for being really close I blame myself because Ms. M. may have been still pissed at almost making her late and got back at me by making our make shift team lose bad.

When she picks me to speak on Adult Allies all I remember saying is "Sometimes you have bullshit adults on a youth(s) behalf, do a little stroking of their ego."

As one agrees and more eloquently expands on it I had to leave because my bus pass ran out and the walk would do me good because of the rich cake and ice cream deserts.

Stealthily leaving saying good by as Ms. M. is about to wrap up she had long since come into her own and I am just glad she thought enough of me to witness one of her many well known talents as Public Speaker/Facilitator.

Pt. 3 is on POOR’s Release Party during and its aftermath.

Hope I can get the last piece in by Tuesday. Bye.

Please send donations to

Poor Magazine or in C/0

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by Joe B.

"It "Freak-in happened again! 7 intelligent, adventurous, creative people flashed-to-ashes. Mr. Ilan Ramon, a colonel of in the Israeli Airforce, First Israeli astronaut In Space
Dr. Kalpana Chawla, First citizen of India in space.
Col. Rick Husband, Lt. Col. Michael Anderson, Cmdr. William McCool, and Capt. David Brown, Laurel Clark.

"When I heard someone talk about it Saturday, February 1st it didn’t register.

The thought came "It must’ve been an empty shuttle tested for flight by remote control, it couldn’t of happened again?

There’s an emergency escape pod or pods for two or three astronauts at a time to glide safely to earth.

But I’m wrong, no escape pods, Mc Giver like glider kits that can be deployed at the edge of space along with one-time us emergency thermal suits for added protection.

I am glad I only heard and not seen as what happened but it will be displayed what happened it its awful entirety.

My own moment of silence was through out that day and Sunday at a new church I pray in.

The bare facts of the matter is no matter what humanity does to make it safe for us to become a space-faring race their will always be a cost but it shouldn’t take the best of our people in one blast like this has once again.

Maybe a combination of robotic probes, inexpensive, of-the-shelf-cheap one-time to multi-use Nanotech- nological solutions could be the 21st technological equivalent of 19th century canaries in the mine telling miner how dangerous gaseous build up that kills canaries but warns the miners.

That could be what Artificial Intelligence nano devices are for, the safeguarding of human lives in space, on a planetoid, moons, asteroids, comets, or on near worlds like mars, or reforming, regenerating, life on dead worlds for human eventual habitation.

Meanwhile poor and working folk are being crushed underfoot by rising taxes, longer jail terms, legalized death camps (State Penitentiary Prisons) where more and more innocent people are dying because of rush to judgement prosecutor’s and overworked defense lawyers.

Selected ‘Prez B Jr. does not pause in the face of ultimate heroism tragedy but continued talk of war which grounds our economy to dust.

That’s my reasoning.

Part 3 of Gay, Straight, & Women or GS&W will continue because one cannot keep this tragic accident upper most in mind or it’ll cause weeping, sobbing, jags for people I’ve never met but admire.

I cannot imagine what family and close friends, students are going through.

May all of them hurt less as weeks, months, and years go by although it will be a long rough process.

This could be too deep wound for many that may never completely heal.

Too much knowledge, applied science, personal courage, and sacrifice of these people and their families have gone into NASA to let the dream and reality of space exploration go.

But safeguards or A.I., robotics has to take up the slack where humans are too vulnerable.

There must be a way to fuse the above technologies in the service and safety of Peoplekind.

Any ideas about safety in space besides not going?

Not going isn’t an option too many human’s have died in the endeavor to end this venture.

How do we protect and proceed in space? Bye.

Please send donations to

Poor Magazine or in C/0

Ask Joe at 1448 Pine Street,

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For Joe only my snail mail:

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PO Box #645

San Francisco, CA 94102

Email: askjoe@poormagazine.org