2009

by Staff Writer

"If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with."

Michael Jackson.

I thought Thursday June 25th, 2009, would be a typical day............or so I (and the rest of the world) thought.

I went to the San Francisco Main Public Library, at approximately 3:00p.m to check my email. Before my arrival, I noticed that wherever I went, a certain artist's songs were blasting on anything that had a radio broadcast. The stunning reason became apparent when I highlighted the internet site publication of Yahoo News.

Then I saw it, the headline that solar eclipsed the world:

MICHAEL JACKSON DEAD AT 50!

"Jackson was taken to the Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center, where doctors said he was non-responsive."

I quickly got up from the computer and walked around. That very headline would've put me in a great state of shock, had I known him personally. For the rest of the week, his music continued to blast everywhere. Everything, his life, success, music, controversies, and the legacy he would leave immediately came out, like an overstuffed closet.

Like the deaths of J.F.K, Dr. King, Bruce Lee, Elvis Presley, and Tupac Shakur, before him, Michael Jackson's death left a stampede of shockwaves that still have yet to be removed, from people's minds. Though death is an assured reality for all human beings, he was always viewed by millions across the globe as an angelic being, for inventing heart-grasping music, and presenting his dazzling performances, far beyond the human anatomy.

For everyone that followed his career since he was eight years old, Michael Joseph Jackson was just that!

"I was a veteran before I was a teenager, "he once said.

After Jackson pursued his own musical solo career away from his older brothers, the legendary "Jackson 5" he earned the non self-proclaimed title: "The King of Pop." His incomparable dancing, moves, singing, gimmicks, clothing, and world wide performances would forever earn him that uncontested title.

The King of Pop had weathered the entire music industry with a thunderstorm that continues to rage, even with his now dearly- departure from earth. During the 1980s, his greatest (and the greatest) album of all time, Thriller, along with many of his other past and present albums and songs had universally-transcended Jackson far above his very own success.

He single-handedly ruled the entire pop music industry during that era. "There's nothing that can't be done if we raise our voice as one." This was an infamous quote by him that was stated at his memorial tribute. My family of POOR Magazine/POOR News Network can identify with those words based on the work that we continue to do, with our own slogan:

"The Revolution begins with I and ends with WE!"

An icon's icon, a performer's performer, and a pop culture folk hero legend's legend earned him the spotlight among many, forever. I told everyone that came around me that he would possibly have the BIGGEST memorial tribute that anyone in the world has ever seen.

I was right.

July 7th, 2009, 18,000 plus fans attended Michael Jackson's memorial tribute, at the Los Angeles Staples Center. An un estimated thousands more fans paid tribute to him outside, while millions more watched the memorial (including myself) on T.V.

Wearing the crystal white glove, his red leather and black Thriller outfit, t-shirts bearing his face or name, posters, and everything associated with Jackson's gimmick were what his fans carried with them, in honor of him.

Myself, among many fans and loved ones knew that he had touched the world to such an unfathomable degree, that this memorial tribute could be held every single day, and no one would still believe that Michael Jackson was really gone.

Among the many speaking participants, celebrities, performers, and highly recognized activists were:

.Singer Lionel Richie

.Singer Mariah Carey

.Singer Stevie Wonder

.Singer Usher Raymond

.Berry Gordy, founder of Motown Records

.Kobe Bryant, basketball player for the Los Angeles Lakers

.Earvin Magic Johnson, former basketball player, and humanitarian

.Rev Al Sharpton, civil rights activist

.Singer Jennifer Hudson

.Actress Brooke Shields

.Actress Queen Latifah

.Rev Martin Luther King III

And as well Michael's entire family were there to say goodbye to him.

Queen Latifah recited a poem by famed poet, Maya Angelou, "We had him:"

He came to us from the creator, trailing creativity in abundance.

Despite the anguish, his life was sheathed in mother love, family love, and survived and did more than that.

He thrived with passion and compassion, humor and style. We had him whether we know who he was or did not know, he was ours and we were his.

We had him, beautiful, delighting our eyes.

His hat, aslant over his brow, and took a pose on his toes for all of us.

And we laughed and stomped our feet for him.

We were enchanted with his passion because he held nothing. He gave us all he had been given.

Guitarist John Mayer, performed one of Jackson's greatest hits, "Human Nature" by the means of his electric guitar. "I’ll be there" (One of Jackson’s hit songs) was sung by Mariah Carey, "Gone too Soon" was tearfully sung by Usher Raymond, " Will you be there" (One of Jackson’s other hit songs) was sung by Jennifer Hudson, "Never Dreamed you’d leave in Summer” and “They won’t go when I go” was sung by Stevie Wonder.

At the O2 Arena, in London, England the "Queen of Pop" Madonna paid tribute to the "King of Pop." Ironically, this is where he was scheduled to perform his next concert dates.

Smokey Robinson spoke the words of legendary singer, Diana Ross, and former South African president, Nelson Mandela, in their shared grief with the world on losing Michael Jackson.

Brooke Shields, a long time friend of Jackson seconded those statements, in her emotional address of Michael. "To the outside world, he had unchallenged ability."

While the "King of Pop" was beloved by millions, there were always the negatives that attacked his career. Being subjected to scandals, allegations, public ridicule for his numerous skin transformations, and being a constant survivor of childhood abuse; only motivated Jackson to work even harder towards penetrating negative public opinions about him.....................by the means of his very own voice and art.

"People write negative things cause they feel that's what sells." Jackson once said. "Good news to them doesn't sell."

"There was nothing strange about your daddy!" exclaimed Rev. Al Sharpton to Michael Jackson's children, as they sat in the audience "What was strange was what he had to deal with!"

Two of Jackson's hit songs, "We are the World" and "Heal the World" were sung, which concluded the ceremony. Those two very songs by Jackson closed out the ceremonial memorial tribute; sung in unison by a community that quickly crowded the stage to be living testimonies, of what message these two songs by Jackson really meant.

"Ever since I was born, daddy has been the best father you could ever imagine. I just want to say that I love him so much."

These were the words of his daughter, Paris-Michael Katherine Jackson. Millions, (including myself) that watched this tribute had tears in their eyes. Hearing this little girl speak about how much she missed her father, in front of the whole wide world, could've melted the hardest of hearts to trickle a tear.

A flowered, golden casket of Michael Jackson lie below the stage, as he was prepared to be driven out and be laid to rest after the memorial tribute. Days following his death, a picture of him was placed on POOR's memorial alter in honor of all our comrades, elders, and brethren struck down in their struggle for survival.

"Maybe now, Michael, they will leave you alone." Marlon Jackson said softly, as he stood alongside on the stage with Jermaine Jackson.

A summer's disregard

A broken bottle top

And a one man's soul

They follow each other

On the wind ya' know

Cause they got nowhere to go

That's why I want you to know

I'm starting with the man in the mirror

I'm asking him to change his ways

And no message could have been any clearer

If you wanna make the world a better place

Take a look at yourself and then make a change,

yey

Na na na, na na na, na na na na oh ho

Lyrics from Michael Jackson’s 1988 hit song, “Man in the Mirror” from his album, “Bad.”

by Tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia

"They called security to escort me off of school grounds," Margareta P., a mama and abuelita to Russell P, was relating her experience of advocating for her 9 year old grandson at his Richmond elementary school when he was being wrongly labeled as a special education student when he only needed ESL services. She related further that she gave up in her attempt to be a school volunteer at his school as she was required to go through so many system-based hoops just to apply. Margareta's experience is common to many mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, aunties and uncles when they try to step onto elementary, middle or high school grounds in districts across the country in support or as co-teachers of their children.

WHEREAS, R.E.A.L. (Reclaiming Education Access and Learning) Schools Now! is a family-led campaign to create district policy that revolutionizes the learning experience of young people of color, liberates teacher creativity, and re-imagines the role of community as critical to the learning process. - Excerpt from the Real Education Policy proposal May 2009

As Margareta spoke, my mind traveled to a different school environment where her words, ideas, culture, language and powerful voice of eldership would not only be heard but would be a part of shaping policies and curriculum for her son's elementary school. A policy like the Real Education Policy being proposed by R.E.A.L. (Reclaiming Education Access and Learning) Schools Now! family leaders with the support of School Board member Audrey Miles to the WCCUSD school board Academic subcommittee and then on to the full board.

After launching the REAL schools NOW campaign in December of 2005, families of children in schools in Richmond, San Pablo, El Cerrito and Pinole have been working together to re-envision schools and school district policies to actively work towards inclusion of family voice, family knowledge, culture and community support.

WHEREAS, young people thrive when teachers, staff, parents and students are supported in building strong partnerships in education with one another; and
WHEREAS, young people thrive when parents are welcomed into schools as educators and change makers.

In 2007 the REAL Schools Now campaign completed a study of teachers in collaboration with United Teachers of Richmond. The findings from this study uncovered the need for less emphasis on testing and scripted curriculums mandated by standardized testing models of teaching the more professional development for teachers and prep time to support teachers in their efforts to work with parents and family members, to value cultures different from theirs, knowledge gained through lived experience and even to understand education rooted in community vision.

WHEREAS, young people of color thrive when teachers are given the time, resources and support to create classrooms that work in partnership with families, connect learning back to lived experiences and cultures, and prepare students to become critical thinkers and leaders.

The REAL education proposal is a template for educational equity, racial justice and real systemic change as it begins the process to change the fundamentally harmful school and school district policies that inform Western, Euro-centric systems of education which have their roots in white supremacy and structural racism.

BE IT FURTHER RESOLVED that District staff shall provide teacher training, supported by time for aligning curriculum, in the areas of equity, socio-political realities, honoring youth, youth leadership, use of facilitation and popular education as well as inter-discipline, cross-discipline and feeder pattern sharing of best practices.

Margareta finished her story to tell me that she hopes for change and sees a time when it will be different and that if the REAL education policy goes through she will try again to be a volunteer at her grandson's school. A school that is informed by REAL Education.

For more information on this resolution and the REAL Schools Now campaign call Justice Matters (510) 235-1578 or go on-line to www.justicematters.org

by Leroy Moore/Illin n chillin

Krip-Hop Nation: When and where is the festival?

Anna Pötzsch: – The World Music Expo – takes place in Copenhagen, Denmark from Wednesday, 28 October – Sunday, 1 November.

Krip-Hop Nation: How old is the festival?

Anna Pötzsch: The first edition of WOMEX took place in Berlin in 1994 – this year's edition is our fifteenth!

Krip-Hop Nation: How many countries are represented?

Anna Pötzsch: Last year we had over 2800 delegates from around 90 countries.

Krip-Hop Nation: World music encompasses everything from traditional to avant-garde and from acoustic to electronic. What kinds of music are represented?

Anna Pötzsch: The term "world music" is not a musical definition. It was introduced in the late eighties to help market "music from 'outside' Western pop culture" (frootsmag.com).

Krip-Hop Nation: When and how do you look for artists?

Anna Pötzsch: We send out a call for proposals at the beginning of every year. This year we received over 760 proposals submitted online via Sonicbids. A jury of 7 people then works on the selection for the WOMEX Showcase Festival. More on www.womex.com/realwomex/how-to-propose#showcase
And on www.womex.com/realwomex/jury

Krip-Hop Nation: Describe the award ceremony and the award.

Anna Pötzsch of : Last year for the first time we decided to present not only one but two WOMEX Awards, one to an artist, and the other to honour an educational institution. The award ceremony on Sunday 1 Nov 12:00 will consist of honorific speeches, congratulating the winners on stage as well as presentations of their work either through a film (> institution) or through a 45-minute showcase (> artist). The WOMEX Award statuette was created at a time when there was no such thing as Asia or Europe, black or white, First World or Third. The Award figurine is an ancient mother goddess statue dating back about 6000 years to the Neolithic age. It was found in Haçilar in modern-day Turkey and bears witness to the existence of a matriarchal society. Such a female goddess appears in many ancient mythologies as an initial primal figure, representing fertility and procreation either as the earth itself or as a mother giving birth to the world and all the creatures in it.
Supporting musical creativity and fertility, it is only fitting that the mother of all and everything serves as the symbol for our tributes in the name of the WOMEX Award.

Krip-Hop Nation

Anna Pötzsch: WOMEX seeks to recognize those who set the highest standards in world culture, who articulate not only in their music, but in their very lives, the richest values of our community," says WOMEX General Director Gerald Seligman. "Our yearly Award is neither lifetime achievement nor, necessarily, recognition of popularity. It is our chance to try to echo the motivations, the dedication, the principles and priorities of the artists and professionals who dedicate their lives to world music. In every way, Staff Benda Bilili sets the standard for such an objective. And there is an added value to awarding them for, in many ways, it is also the resilience of the Congo itself that we honour in recognizing SBB. The Congo has always been a musical powerhouse of Africa, supplying us with so many of that vast continent's greatest artists. It's so good to see the Congo back. And it's so wonderful that it should be back in the form of Staff Benda Bilili."

Krip-Hop Nation: Is this your first time having disabled musicians at the festival?

Anna Pötzsch: It is the first time that WOMEX presents a group with several wheelchairs on stage.

Krip-Hop Nation: By awarding Staff Benda Bilili, did you have to work on accessibility issues?

Anna Pötzsch: We always do our best to give disabled delegates access to our event. We have never had a band on stage though whose majority is disabled and uses wheelchairs – this is a new challenge for us. We will certainly have to work on the backstage facilities, stage access, etc, but are optimistic to get that solved.

Krip-Hop Nation: Do you think that the music industry have a lot to learn from Staff Benda Bilili?

Anna Pötzsch: What strikes most about Staff Benda Bilili is their immense creativity and courage. Out of a very challenging situation, being homeless and disabled in Kinshasa in "one of the largest and most dysfunctional cities in Africa" (Andy Morgan in Songlines April/May 2009), they have managed to launch a promising international career in music. The music industry itself is and has been in a very difficult situation with the old business model breaking down and the new ones still being figured out and/or their affectivity tested. What many companies need to survive this crisis is exactly what Staff Benda Bilili is so brilliant at: being creative and courageous in all respects.

by Joseph Bolden

50+

OK folks,its been a long while since I’ve been writing a regular column in Poor Magazine.

I left the organization for a bit,dj-ed radio for a time then it close down due to theft.

Recently I returned from Colorado, a friend I know there invited me and a few close friends to spend a few days their during Memorial Day weekend.

It was worth going and I’ll go again.

Saturday,June,6,2009 will be a milestone of sorts for me.

I’ll be 55.

Its currious that what I’ve missed out in youth; that is drinking,drugs, bar fights,marriage,fathering children,sex wasn’t as important as living/surviving through this hectic,warp speed decades.

So I missed lots of high school reunions, college,university,or undergraduate experiences and being in porn films…

(the latter still possible if a few lovely women invited me for a tryout,even if it didn’t pan out at least I'd have evidence of my go-for- gusto on a compact disk.)

Speaking of adult themes while at work I admit to looking at porn sites but also more important adult dating sites.

The four sites I’ve decided to go online and pay is a woman run website

Bangmatch.com,

Hornymatch.com,

Friend finder for
Adult.com,
and Senior Friend Finder.com

My problem: having avoided the HIV/AIDS quick–to-slow die disease.

I still want my dirty, raunchy,sex but with women clean as I am.

I'd show my sex-med card/paper they show me theirs.

Iffy or questionable clean bill of health= no shagging,snogging,muff diving,tongue lashing to be had.Horny,Yes but not worth dying!

I wanna live to be 56 and beyond.

Besides,I’ve got to prove to those believing in the sanctity and safety of marriage that single men can live long, vigorous, productive lives without the aid of a church and state.

I believe single males no longer need worry about being unmarried,without issue or with issue–just live,enjoy,and pace ourselves just as women naturally do.

Guys,you know they don’t know what they want because when we ask them to define it,nail it down, they get ambiguous and yes they’re more fluid sexually so what,the Gayells,straying into male land for a while to return to fem land again only shows never really doesn’t mean never just for now.

So guys especially straight guys who aren’t all twisty,bendy,and fluid relax be happy we know are limitations.

I know I like women whatever size,shape,A cup to ample triple H, XXX boulder holders.

I don’t care about men haters, basher's.
The-we-don’t-need-you-have-our-own-stash-flash ladies.

Let 'em join the The-No-WOMB-Men’s-club its probably a lonely group to have to gripe all the time anyway.

I have new endeavors like working on a Cruise Ship, visiting ports of call not possible at this time.

Learning Massage, Acupressure/Acupuncture so when I’m on board ship I have a good skill all sexes may enjoy though only with one sex to me is worth while enjoying

Learning to fix PC’s, stockroom, or data entry.

As a member of A.A.R.P. Association for the Advancement of Retired Persons.

Also as the middle member in the babyboom generation I see what’s ahead of me also those coming up.

Well, I messed up educationally, economically, but not in health so what to do?

Make money real fast, self invest, and or have other help me too and

lastly set up an annuity and with excess amount of cash

have 5 to 10 million or so in the bank, get a brilliant accountant and or economist

to get as high a percentage of money doled out to me monthly if I can and touch the principle living on a fixed budget.

Might as well buy an RV if I cannot afford a home.

The main thing is get/be stable and live the rest of my life traveling, fornicating with women that like that sort of thing and keep an eye out on life extension technologies.

One last thing, to all the women who’ve written me over the years and I couldn’t answer –

I live in a danger part of San Francisco I wouldn’t want any of you visit me in such a crazed place.

I’ll visit you where you feel safe in your own place or a hotel sometimes I pay sometimes you thing where all grown folk.

No state, gov, county, or nosey people have a right comment on it.

That’s what I really love about being 55 I can do what I want with whom I want and they with me its all completely our choice.

Although I’d still like to be in porn films like that blessed 79 year old Asian guy.

Now he is living his life his way!
Unless he's the oldest sex slave forced to bed women!

That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do live my life my way and for as long and I want not because of constantly changing rules.

Live, learn, love long, post death, chose life again.

For comments go to

telljoe@poormagazine.org or email me at

jsph_bldn@yahoo.com plus

deeandtiny@poormagazine.org

by Marlon Crump/PNN

Dear President Barack Obama,

I am writing this message to you and your administration in regards to a matter of National Security, where bizarre incidental events are occurring upon ordinary American Citizens.

These incidents involve unknown subjects who target their victims, by the following terroristic tactics in a perverse attempt towards unrelenting intimidation of implementing fear:

.covert harassment

.electronic harassment

.directed energy weapons (DEWs)

.organized stalking

Such acts have been executed by these perpetrators for quite sometime. These acts are though covert, they are not immune from exposure, for these cases are featured on numerous websites.

Through extensive research and testimonies from the victims, I've discovered very disturbing factors regarding this situation. This covert terror involves members of various organizations that practice hate, members who are possibly prone to insecurities of settling disputes, and even members of law enforcement agencies, nationwide.

To my knowledge, there is a class action suit pending to represent members of Freedom From Covert Harassment and Surveillance (FFCHS) an organization consisting of members who've been deeply impacted due to these acts.

In addition, there are support groups and counseling for victims who've been subsequently stalked and harassed.

I wrote an article online titled "Electronic Harassment" just two months ago. (www.poormagazine.org) I intend to write a follow up article regarding covert actions in the very near future.

My objective for this message, Mr. President, is to raise absolute awareness to you and your administration regarding these acts of terror that should be swiftly prohibited, from occurring and/or disrupting ordinary people's lives.

Notwithstanding, all the victims who are constantly covertly harassed and intimidated are urgently pleading for those who are responsible of such acts must be held accountable to the very extent of the law.

I thank you for your time, in your acknowledgment(s) of this letter, Mr. President.

Sincerely,

Marlon Crump

POOR Magazine/POOR News Network.

by Joseph Bolden

Living A Life

Recently my birthday had passed double five still alive.

It occurs to me that some missed opportunities, may have saved my life in various crossroads in time.

Nearly drowned in the Orchard Beach as five or six year old I think a woman saved me.

I didn’t see bright lights but didn’t feel pain just calm about it.

Volunteering for Viet Nam in 1972 or 3 at the age of 18 or 19 for the usual reasons of no jobs, didn’t, get away from home, to do something with my life.

Anyway volunteered at four branches of the military was turned down because of a lazy eye (told to drink plenty of carrot juice).

Being asked, “What if you are ordered to shoot a man?”

My first answer was a question “Why, what reason to do that?”

I guess that was the wrong way of answering a direct question because in the circumstances when given an order one’s duty is to obey without question any, most orders given by a superior or higher ranking officer.

From Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force to Air National Guard the latter is a given because of my eyesight.

I am gently turned down.
The exercise that involved jumping up and down.

I may have been too enthusiastic jumping too high and across the floor.

Oh well I know I volunteered so it’s one of those fate full choices that for anyone could change their lives.

Before that bad times in summer camp sponsored by Our Lady Of Mercy. Bright yellow shirt blue-green writing stenciled on.

My memory has pain connected because I was about to fight some kid.

My belly churns as I back up in fear and room then I’m stuck!

I had backed right into a rusty nail! Impaled, not knowing it while I fought.
Move from the place as girls screamed as red seeps out of me.

I though it was rain feeling wet and pain in my back.

A nurse at the infirmary said it wasn’t serious but gave me a preventive shot.

I still have small jagged scar on my back.
That wasn’t the only time

I was impaled.

Also speared in the throat after giving two quick,
hard rabbit punches to some guy who thought if funny to take my gym shorts down in public while outside on a grassy field as everyone was in gym class?

That’s why I rabbit punched him bloodied his nose.

The next day was his revenge as I’m speared in the throat.

Some blood looked worse than it was.

I always felt my voice had been changed because of that incident.

Girls, women, confounding mysteries always drawn to ‘em but not they to me so missed out on dances, social stuff, graduated but didn’t dance.

Traveled, bummed around Los Angeles just when a psychopath who road the rails and hunted houseless folk.

Safe in Joe’s working for room and board and later in the L.A.’s West End Skid row I would hear men mostly scream for help and wonder was it the
railway killer or some guy getting beaten up or worse because they got caught by a gang or someone just wanting beat a hobo or bum up for the fun of it knowing they get away clean.

Eventually while learning a skill I did find a woman or two taking a chance on me but as for the four letters word of love only three seemed to call on me.

As an old movie line says, “What’s sex without love?

“It's Just Sex, it's just sex.”

Better deal with the latter if the other isn’t meant for me.

So now I’m 55, there are still places to go, visit, people to know, and so what If I missed some things
I as a single healthy black male count myself as lucky in the extreme to still be alive at this stage of the game.

San Francisco is where I reside for now but that may change and its all right change is constant and I’ve tended to go-with-flow and not let too many things up set me.

I just pray to live a long vigorous, adventurous, live many good fem friends and guy buds as well avoiding old grim reaper, faking out Mother Nature for as long as science and technology will allow.

Any comments sent to

telljoe@poormagazine.org or email me at

jsph_bldn@yahoo.com

by Lisa Gray-Garcia aka tiny and Rhonda Patterson/PNN

"I was born here,". Mrs. Patterson didn't look up as she spoke. Her voice inaudible, lost in the cement, concrete, doorways, truck exhaust, honking horns, brick walls and glass storefronts of Downtown San Francisco. Her body, the color of earth and wind, land and nature, was camouflaged in long ago lost clothing, shredded blankets and plastic ware.

"Ms Patterson," I whispered to her as she crouched in a tiny closed liquor store doorway, "we are going to win this case, I promise," Rhonda Patterson, a landless African Descendent elder who has resided on the street at 605 Market street for over 20 years after being red-lined out of and evicted from her home in San Francisco, barely looked up.

It had been one week since Michael Hall, an attorney whose office was located on the 9th floor of an office building at 605 Market street had begun harassing Ms Patterson culminating in the filing of a stay away order against her. A stay away order that accused her of threatening him with violence.

For years Ms. Patterson had tucked her shopping cart tightly against the side of the building near the 2nd street wall of 605 Market street , until the Men's Wearhouse, the store that occupies the storefront there, with help from Mr. Hall, got an injunction against Ms Patterson, requiring her to move.

The morning she appeared in front of the 605 Market St building, sitting close to the curb, so as not to block the sidewalk, I witnessed Mr Hall yelling at Ms Patterson. "You need to move, you are blocking the sidewalk, you are a bum and just cause trash," First he took pictures, then he began shouting at her. Then he filed false charges. Pleading paper with lines on it. Lines and numbers and legal language erasing, eradicating, and butchering all humans in their path. .

"I'm not going to do anything about Ms. Paterson, I have known her for many years and she has never hurt anybody," Officer. Chiu, a San Francisco Police Officer told me while shaking his head after he was called out to arrest Ms Patterson based on requirements of the stay away order.

I first found out about the false claims filed by Mr. Hall, because I received a call from the hard-working maintenance staff at 605 Market St (who knew I was worried about Ms. Patterson's safety) They told me the police were called to take action on the stay away order. What then took place was perhaps even more jarring and confusing for me as a Prison Industrial Complex survivor and police terror victim. The first officer who was called out, Officer Chiu, refused to do anything and knew the charges were false based on his knowledge of Ms Patterson. He was followed by yet another SFPD officer who noted that the stay away order which demanded that Ms Hall stay 50 yards away was based on Mr. Hall's office which as the SFPD officer clarified, was on the 9th floor of the building and therefore Ms Patterson, was in fact, 50 yards away from Mr Hall.

In the end Mr. Hall, who owned the access to paper, land, phone-lines, Amerikkka Just-US, rental leases, time, organization, linguistic domination skills, etc, won. The 3rd and final police call generated four officers in addition to the original ones and Ms. Patterson was removed from her constitutionally protected location based on completely false charges that she threatened Mr. Hall with a weapon on the day he took pictures of her.

As soon as I heard about the false charges on the stay-away order I called several people in the community who work to ensure that unprotected peoples are taken care of, unheard heroes of the revolution who realize that we must work interdependently at all times to keep our injured brothers and sisters safe. One of these unsung heroes is Bob Offer-Westort who works tirelessly in support of criminalized, landless peoples at the The Coalition on Homelessness.

After my plea to the community that Ms Patterson needed a lawyer by any means necessary, Bob made several calls and secured the help of Sarah Barnes with the Lawyers Committee for Civil Rights.

One week later Sarah and I found Ms Patterson in the darkened doorway of the liquor store several blocks away from 2nd and Market. I had told Sarah that we would have to meet Ms. Patterson outside as she was living with Poverty Trauma Stress Syndrome (my version of the Western Euro-centric Psychiatric Diagnosis of PTSD) and she would not be able to go anywhere, much-less a lawyers office. Sarah understood. She's got skills like that.

On July 1, Sarah Barnes, myself, co-editor of POOR Magazine and fellow revolutionary for the people, Tony Robles, and POOR Magazine staff writer and poverty scholar Ruyata Akio McGlothlin went to court to re-port and sup-port on the fake stay away order.

The court room was packed. Every seat filled. Every human silenced by the implied power of that space. The laws of Amerikkka Just-US built , promoted and adjudicated. While the fake solemnity of the courtroom purred along, there was an odd metaphor taking place outside the one plate glass window to the left of the judges bench. A large concrete crane moved dirt and steel and the remnants of a vacant building into a pile of rubble.

"She has been there with a large shopping cart for many years". Mr. Hall spoke first, presenting a series of photographs of Ms Patterson as she sat quietly on 2nd Street, of course Mr. hall never asked Ms Patterson if he could take her picture. Fleshing out the racist fetishized stereotype of the large and dangerous homeless Black woman. Mr. Hall painted a picture of a woman standing over 5 foot 8 inches tall weighing over 260 pounds with a loud, booming voice He proceeded with a laundry list of Ms. Patterson's crimes of poverty.

"She has a tendency to take recyclables and use them as sleeping material and leave them after she uses them"

"This graffiti appeared after she stood there. I'm not saying she caused the graffiti, but she has a tendency to attract this kind of behavior".

The crane moved up and down outside the window as he spoke. Biting the edges of the earth with every lunge. The earth, tired, quiet, forlorn, had nothing to say. No energy left to fight. Its strength long ago crushed

And then he concluded, with the saddest statement of all which he attributed to Ms Patterson, "She said there was no place for her to go and if she went she would take me with her".

It was at this point that the judge exclaimed with a certain amount of frustration, "Can we hear from Ms Patterson's attorney".

Sarah began by asking me as witness to the "incident"to describe Ms Patterson. I told the court how she was actually shorter than me, barely audible at any given time, had never hurt anyone, and like most people who are landless/houseless appeared large because she was covered in many layers of clothing, She then asked me to recount my recollection of the day of the alleged "threat". I described how Ms Patterson had never uttered any threats to anyone, much-less brandishing weapons at folks and the only "crime" she could be accused of is the crime of living without a home in San Francisco, that Mr. Hall had actually taken pictures of Ms. Patterson and harassed her without reason and that Mr. Hall had a history of doing that since he launched his law office there.

Outside the window the crane stopped pumping in and out of the earth. It seemed to be taking a break from its tireless destruction. And then the judge spoke, "I understand how this situation can be frustrating for you Mr. Hall, but I am going to decline this stay away order as I find there is no credible threat of violence".

There is no credible threat of violence. In those simple words, the fabric of Amerikkka Just-US, weighted by how much money you have, how white your skin is, how much credit you have access to, and degrees you hold from formal institutions of learning,, tore ever so slightly, and Ms Patterson, me, Tony, Ruyata and Sarah jumped through. We won. Ms Patterson didn't win land, reparations, a roof, proper care, love or respect. She just won the truth. The truth that she was a landless African Descendent elder who had the right, albeit not much of a right, but a right nonetheless, to reside houselessly on public land in one of the richest cities in the world

Postscript.. When I told Ms. Patterson about what happened in court she smiled, one of the only times I have ever seen her smile. And then very quietly she added, "thank-you". I asked if she would be willing to have me write her story and take a picture of her. And she said, "Yes," granting me one more smile. I felt truly blessed.

by Johann Hari/UK Independent

Who imagined that in 2009, the world's governments
would be declaring a new War on Pirates? As you read
this, the British Royal Navy - backed by the ships of
more than two dozen nations, from the US to China - is
sailing into Somalian waters to take on men we still
picture as parrot-on-the-shoulder pantomime villains.
They will soon be fighting Somalian ships and even
chasing the pirates onto land, into one of the most
broken countries on earth. But behind the
arrr-me-hearties oddness of this tale, there is an
untold scandal. The people our governments are
labelling as "one of the great menaces of our times"
have an extraordinary story to tell - and some justice
on their side.

Pirates have never been quite who we think they are. In
the "golden age of piracy" - from 1650 to 1730 - the
idea of the pirate as the senseless, savage Bluebeard
that lingers today was created by the British
government in a great propaganda heave. Many ordinary
people believed it was false: pirates were often saved
from the gallows by supportive crowds. Why? What did
they see that we can't? In his book Villains Of All
Nations, the historian Marcus Rediker pores through the
evidence.

If you became a merchant or navy sailor then - plucked
from the docks of London's East End, young and hungry -
you ended up in a floating wooden Hell. You worked all
hours on a cramped, half-starved ship, and if you
slacked off, the all-powerful captain would whip you
with the Cat O' Nine Tails. If you slacked often, you
could be thrown overboard. And at the end of months or
years of this, you were often cheated of your wages.

Pirates were the first people to rebel against this
world. They mutinied - and created a different way of
working on the seas. Once they had a ship, the pirates
elected their captains, and made all their decisions
collectively, without torture. They shared their bounty
out in what Rediker calls "one of the most egalitarian
plans for the disposition of resources to be found
anywhere in the eighteenth century".

They even took in escaped African slaves and lived with
them as equals. The pirates showed "quite clearly - and
subversively - that ships did not have to be run in the
brutal and oppressive ways of the merchant service and
the Royal Navy." This is why they were romantic heroes,
despite being unproductive thieves.

The words of one pirate from that lost age, a young
British man called William Scott, should echo into this
new age of piracy. Just before he was hanged in
Charleston, South Carolina, he said: "What I did was to
keep me from perishing. I was forced to go a-pirateing
to live." In 1991, the government of Somalia collapsed.
Its nine million people have been teetering on
starvation ever since - and the ugliest forces in the
Western world have seen this as a great opportunity to
steal the country's food supply and dump our nuclear
waste in their seas.

Yes: nuclear waste. As soon as the government was gone,
mysterious European ships started appearing off the
coast of Somalia, dumping vast barrels into the ocean.
The coastal population began to sicken. At first they
suffered strange rashes, nausea and malformed babies.
Then, after the 2005 tsunami, hundreds of the dumped
and leaking barrels washed up on shore. People began to
suffer from radiation sickness, and more than 300 died.

Ahmedou Ould-Abdallah, the UN envoy to Somalia, tells
me: "Somebody is dumping nuclear material here. There
is also lead, and heavy metals such as cadmium and
mercury - you name it." Much of it can be traced back
to European hospitals and factories, who seem to be
passing it on to the Italian mafia to "dispose" of
cheaply. When I asked Mr Ould-Abdallah what European
governments were doing about it, he said with a sigh:
"Nothing. There has been no clean-up, no compensation,
and no prevention."

At the same time, other European ships have been
looting Somalia's seas of their greatest resource:
seafood. We have destroyed our own fish stocks by
overexploitation - and now we have moved on to theirs.
More than $300m-worth of tuna, shrimp, and lobster are
being stolen every year by illegal trawlers. The local
fishermen are now starving. Mohammed Hussein, a
fisherman in the town of Marka 100km south of
Mogadishu, told Reuters: "If nothing is done, there
soon won't be much fish left in our coastal waters."

This is the context in which the "pirates" have
emerged. Somalian fishermen took speedboats to try to
dissuade the dumpers and trawlers, or at least levy a
"tax" on them. They call themselves the Volunteer
Coastguard of Somalia - and ordinary Somalis agree. The
independent Somalian news site WardheerNews found 70
per cent "strongly supported the piracy as a form of
national defence".

No, this doesn't make hostage-taking justifiable, and
yes, some are clearly just gangsters - especially those
who have held up World Food Programme supplies. But in
a telephone interview, one of the pirate leaders,
Sugule Ali: "We don't consider ourselves sea bandits.
We consider sea bandits [to be] those who illegally
fish and dump in our seas." William Scott would
understand.

Did we expect starving Somalians to stand passively on
their beaches, paddling in our toxic waste, and watch
us snatch their fish to eat in restaurants in London
and Paris and Rome? We won't act on those crimes - the
only sane solution to this problem - but when some of
the fishermen responded by disrupting the
transit-corridor for 20 per cent of the world's oil
supply, we swiftly send in the gunboats.

The story of the 2009 war on piracy was best summarised
by another pirate, who lived and died in the fourth
century BC. He was captured and brought to Alexander
the Great, who demanded to know "what he meant by
keeping possession of the sea." The pirate smiled, and
responded: "What you mean by seizing the whole earth;
but because I do it with a petty ship, I am called a
robber, while you, who do it with a great fleet, are
called emperor." Once again, our great imperial fleets
sail - but who is the robber?

by Staff Writer

Dear Al and fellow Tule Lake Pilgrim,

Misa Joo told me that you are in hospital. I've read the updates about the GBS. As Misa said in her letter, she and I are roomies when we are on the Tule Lake Pilgrimage. Me--I'm the one who is actually from Santa Cruz, CA, but everyone thinks I'm from Seattle because I always travel with the Seattle group (my brother is from Seattle).

Misa has done her homework that you gave her. Me--well, let's say that the sheet music is still to be found and decided upon ;-) Earlier, "flyin' high in the friendly sky" was going through my head, Marvin Gaye's song from the What's Goin' On album. Will see if I can figure out how to record a favorite song of mine from childhood and send it to you. The Pilgrimage is just not the same if Peter is not there doing Tai Chi, and if you aren't there to play those jazz standards on the piano. Next time, I'll sing if I know the words (except for My Funny Valentine--heard too many bad covers of it!).

Are you flying through the purple golden rose-petaled skies of the shamanic terrain that most of us only see in dream states? I just know that you are one of the few who sees those skies whether asleep or awake. Al, when you return from your journey, please share the stories with all of us. Before I fall asleep, I'll ask my guardian angels to send greetings via your guardian angels. I placed your name in the healing prayer box at my Qabalah class this evening. And Misa and I will be doing reiki for you. I'll be sending you pink and gold. Whoever is reading this might think this sounds silly--but i know you that you know what I mean, neh!

When you are up and about again, I hope to visit and say "hi, Al! what's what?"

Take care,

Shizue Shikuma

by Byron Gafford/PNN Race and Poverty Scholar

God woke me up at three o clock in the morning, a typical
salutation used by Byron Gafford to greet people in the mornings.
Upon my first introduction with Byron a few months ago, I found him to
be an extremely kind-hearted and friendly man, often with a smile on
his face. The first thing I discovered about him was that he was a
passionate and creative writer. He has written over 80,000 poems and
keeps all of them extremely organized by number, day, and title. He
is a spiritual man who practices positive thinking and enjoys living
life.

On Wednesday, March 25, 2009, he was let go from his position as a
contracted security guard at the George Lucas Building B on 1
Letterman Street in San Francisco, California. Byron was culturally,
racially, and religiously discriminated against based on that greeting
to a female Lucas employee that morning.

"Every day, like I've been doing for the past seven months, when the
employees enter into the lobby I would greet them with Good Morning
and God Bless You and no one ever responded back to me in a negative
way", says Byron. "I greeted everyone the same way. I never knew that
I offended anyone and no one ever mentioned to me that I was offensive
in my greetings to any employees. My supervisors have never expressed
to me that my greetings were inappropriate".

We at Poor Magazine are exposing George Lucas in their blatant
discrimination against Byron Gafford. They have made what Dr. Wade
Nobles defines as a "transubstantive error" by interpreting his
comment as inappropriate, yet they are without explanation or notice
of his termination. They have fired him on an illogical and illegal
basis and we need to put a stop to this hypocrisy. We will not allow
Darth Vader to strike.

Transubstantive error is defined as making a wrong and assumptive
conclusion about a meaning and value of peoples by looking at their
surface behaviors. In the sixties the Assistant Secretary of Labor
Daniel Moynihan was assigned to examine the black family as part of a
welfare study ordained by President Johnson. Upon his assignment he
made a transubstantive error by deeming the black family environment
as, "broken home [that] would cause negative things to occur in the
development of children".

Dr. Nobles is a tenured professor in Black Studies at San Francisco
State University and the Executive Director of the Institute for The
Advanced Study of Black Family Life and Culture in Oakland,
California. He says that Daniel Moynihan made the first mistake by
interpreting their values and behaviors from his own European culture.

"He draws the wrong conclusion", says Dr. Nobles. "So the entire
time he is examining them, there was this whole notion of families
with womyn without husbands raising children, which he deemed a broken
home".

Dr. Nobles goes on to conclude that, "The mistake he was making was
that the instillation of values in the development of children is not
tied to mother-father linkage, it is tied to a system of eldership.A system of eldership does not believe in just a nuclear family to
raise children, but it is the responsibility of both the immediate and
extended families to raise them, including aunts, uncles,
grandmothers, grandfathers, sisters, brothers, cousins, and so on.
Almost like a hierarchy of eldership, all of these elements contribute
to, improving the development of children. And so you have African
American people behaving in a certain way that is uncommon and
unfamiliar to someone with a European background, and it becomes
misinterpreted and seen as broken, or wrong and less than, thus
causing a transubstantive error.

In this particular incident, the female employee of George Lucas
found Byron's morning greeting to be offensive. However, by her
placing that negative judgment upon Byron, like Daniel Moynihan, she is
committing a transubstantive error. She, as a white womyn with a
Eurocentric background, is deeming Byron's entire cultural value
system as inappropriate as he is a spiritual man and an African
American man.

The day started out as a typical day. Byron started his shift at
6:30 a.m. as a security guard at the George Lucas Building B childcare
lobby. He was contracted by Advanced-Tech Security Services and has
been there since September 9, 2008. By 6:45 a.m., he was at his post
and by 7 a.m., the building was open.

At 7:35 a.m., Byron was at his desk performing his post duties when a
Lucas female employee came into the lobby. As is customary, he greeted her politely and commented that "God
woke me up at three o' clock in the morning". A reference to his late night work schedule.
The female employee departed while Byron continued with his duties.

He continued his day and took his first fifteen-minute break at 8
a.m., lunch at 10:30 a.m., and his third break at 1 p.m. However, at
approximately 1:38 a.m., another ATS guard came and told him that Mike
Mitchell, his employer, wanted to see him. Byron went to Mike's
office upstairs, and his other supervisor Jim was also in the office.
Jim then proceeded to get out of his seat and close the door. When
they were all seated, Mike said that a Lucas employee went to the
people higher up and complained about Byron. She said he told her
that "God woke me up at three ˜o clock this morning". Byron told them
yes, he did say that. Yet without any further explanation, Mike and
Jim responded, "We have to let you go". They took his badge, told him
to leave, and told him that would no longer be an employee there,
leaving Byron unclear about the situation.

This incident is an example of cultural digression and it is illegal.
As stated under Federal Law, Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of
1964 (Title VII), it "prohibits employment discrimination based on
race, color, religion, sex, or national origin". Byron is an African
American man and is a spiritual man, and George Lucas is
discriminating against Byron based on his culture, his race, and his
religion, resulting in the loss of his position. They issued him no
write up or any warning, and prior to this incident Byron had no
complaints on his record.

"George Lucas is a media corporation", says Tiny, editor of Poor
Magazine. "They supposedly produce diverse media, but have judged
and decided on someone else's value system and fired him. Byron is a
writer, he is hard working, he is supporting a family".

Byron Gafford was an innocent bystander caught in a transubstantive
error and was wrongly let go of his position under federal
discrimination and without any legal justification. We need to
combine our forces against George Lucas and expose this hypocrisy
before they strike again in our community.

by Mission Resistors

An Oakland mourning, grayish clouds like the courthouse building.

Looked like a skyscaper to me… As the people walked down the street, they looked scary to me like the building. As I went into the building with my parents to see the judge for his judgment, he sent me to another foster home.

I must have stayed there about 3 weeks before I ran away again. They found me on the streets in the Fillmore with the prostitutes, the pimps and the players of the street life. Everybody used to hang out at Chicken A-Go-Go on Fillmore Street. It was a restaurant for the prostitutes. The prostitutes would give me a dollar to go to school—-for lunch money. They would say, “You make sure you go to school, cuz if you don’t, I’m gonna whip your ass just like your mama. I’m not givin’ away my money for nothing."

They were wearing short mini skirts with high heels. They swayed from side-to-side. I used to sneak into the Fillmore theater all the time, like when James Brown came to town. I’d seen him for free—-and Otis Redding and Sam Cooke. I liked the song, “Please Please Please.” I liked the way he sang it and the way he danced. Sam Cooke would make the women jump up, holler and scream. Back in those days, it was a big dance floor—-everybody would be dancing.

Then I got arrested by a truant officer. I went to Juvenile Hall, then back to court. I then went to a boarding school named Frego Ranch School in San Andreas, California. I tried to run away from there, but instead, got lost and scared. I stayed 6 months at the ranch and later, went back home. I was about 13 years old. I was going to a Jr. High School named Benjamin Franklin for a minute. I would never go to my class and ended up running away from home again. This time, they sent me to Los Angeles to a foster family’s house. I didn’t know anything about LA.

The first day, I arrived at their house, they took us to Disneyland and I was gone again. I ran away... I met a white man going back to S.F. He gave me a ride and dropped me off at the old Greyhound bus station on 7th and Market Street, but the police found me sleeping in the doorway there.

I ended up going back to Juvenile Hall and back to court, when the judge asked me, “What should I do with you?” I answered, “Why don’t you let me live with my real parents?”

He granted it.

by Staff Writer

The eyes are the window. The light talks first in little beams that grow into constellations. So much beauty in the gleam.

Last Wednesday Alfred opened his right eye. That evening Russell asked, "Do you want to go to Chinatown to get some tomato beef chow mein? No words, just one eye, reaching for the sound of his younger brother. Al closed his eyes. Russell asked, Do you want to leave the hospital and go home? He opened his one eye again. Clarity in the look.

The next day two eyes open.

says, Russell. What can I say?

Utopia, Alfred's loving niece says, Al is moving more muscles in his face, including his mouth. Words are never far away with Al. Never have been. Thoughts have already been spoken for, before the tongue becomes familiar.

Muscles move the body and draw the bone. A tingle becomes a twitch, becomes and little motion from here to there in centimeters. The fight against atrophy calls those who know the way. Cliff Young shows how to properly massage Al's hands and arms to increase blood flow to the limbs. Phyllis Wong is doing Reiki, bringing energy to Alfred's body. Atrophy does not stand a chance!

Family and friends stand firm.

The hospital staff say, He is improving... which is very encouraging, but the sweetness of the words comes with an after taste. The elephant is in the room with Al. The cost of healthcare is beginning to communicate, the way it does when it is hungry.

Al's sister, Theresa, has begun talks with the social worker and those in charge of patient care for the hospital. The question is when to move Alfred out of ICU? Already the money! Already the costs, but we all know this is the price of living in the world the way it is. The other side of recovery comes with accountants, as blood pressure becomes a line item and the journey back sees the landscape of our common dilemma: how much does it cost to heal?

Al will be moved from ICU in a couple of weeks. That is the plan and the tubes will not follow.

These are the days of recovery now, the days we have been waiting for.

People, community, friends, have been the strength for Al and family: help when needed, responding to the call, giving room, and sending love with words and prayers. Amazing. It is all so amazing.

Nancy Hom says, Al brings out the best in all of us, even when he sleeps.

by Byron Gafford

A Lucas Art employee

That God woke

Me up at 3 o'clock

In the morning

That day.

With any warning

From anybody I

Didn't know that

What I had

Said to her that

She hated God

That much.

That at 1:38pm

I had to lose

My job over

Me thanking God

For waking me

Up this morning

3-25-09 like I

did every morning.

by Mission Resistors

When the judge granted the department of human services their request that I take a psych evaluation, my heart dropped. I felt betrayed by people in authority. I felt like my world was ending. I felt numb all day. I felt there was a conspiracy to take my children from me and my life was in their hands. I had to obey every thing that they said. As a mother I felt the need to protect my children like an animal that protects their children, but I was human trying to protect my children from the very system that tried to take them away from me. Should I take the psych eval? And let them take my children? Or should I go and get my own psych eval and compete with them? I didn’t want to jeopardize anything. I was afraid like prey that’s been caught in a trap, and knowing nothing but to protect my children. When I looked at the judge, Judge Gargano, I knew in my heart that he was going to grant the request. I looked at him looking at me with his piercing eyes like he was cutting me in two, section by section, saying “You little black nigger, you better shut up or else I will ruin your whole life. You have no rights and you cannot fight us.” I felt nervous I felt like I was by myself even though there were people around me. There was no one I could turn to.

I looked a the judge with his old, pale white face and he reminded me of Scrooge. He was wearing a black cape like the grim reaper. They had no reason, no explanation. Just because I was a mother I went to the right people to ask for help, yet they turned on me. I started talking to some people I thought that I could trust. The very people I thought that would help me: the dept of human services, the judges, the city attorney turned against me. I had to go get help from the Center for Exploited Children. I brought every piece of paeprwork, every doctor’s note, every school papoer from my children, I went to my church talked to my pastor. I went to go see my faimly doctor to ask her to write a note about my character. I asked anyone that knew me or loved me or cared about me to write a note about my character as a parent, as an advocate and I also took my foster child’s paperwork from when I got her even before she was born—-I had them all. I took it to the National Center of Exploited Children, finally someone to listen to me I thought. He put all of that together, read every paper, every doctor’s note, every teacher’s letter, my doctor’s letters, he put it all together in a document. I had another court date to go to finalize the psych eval and I took that paper to my next court hearing. I was told that if I didn’t take a psych eval and went against court orders, I would be placed in jail. I thought that was another tactic to take my children.

They say the squeaky wheel gets oil--I needed to keep talking. So I took that document frm the National Center of Exploited Children to my court hearing and filed it for the judge to see. And to my surprise, it was pandamonium. They said, “Where did you get this from?” I said there is a name there and I said, “I am not taking a psych eval.” There my story started getting worse. I was not afraid as I was before. I didn’t go to jail. They didn’t take my children. They were bluffing me all along to take a psych eval to use their own people, not allowing me to use my own.

But with that, I went through all kinds of horrible things with the system. During that time I hired an attorney named Craig Martin.

He was the only person that I could talk to that I knew could rattle the judge’s mind and authority more than I could. So all I could think was put myself in survival mode for my children because my children are my life and no one could love them like I could. With that, I decided to let him touch me in places I didn’t want to be touched. But as time went on, it got worse. He did what he was supposed to do and do the paperwork and go to court but he used it against me for the simple fact that I was a poor mother with no money. But I thought I was paying him enough with my rent money, grocery money, anything to keep his hand off of me. But that didn’t help. But then I would think about my children and I let him do these things to me. During that time he grew angrier and angrier at me. I tried to tell anoher judge that my own attorney was raping me because I was scared that if I let him go I would lose my children.

by Staff Writer

Paying Respect

(For Al Robles)

Shhhhhh listen with your heart

Brown Yellow, Red

voices of color

Rising us up from boxes

people put us in

Yes, I'm Black

feeling activist elders from all ethnic cultures

Combining communities

Through the arts

Black, Chicano, Asian, Native, Women Gay Arts Movements

From Manilatown to Motown

Homo-Hop to Krip-Hop

Koreatown, Chinatown to Chocolate City

Walking Down These Mean Streets

With Piri Tomas, Gil Scott Heron & Al Robles

Spoke political poetry

Real artists\activists

California Hotel residents learning from I Hotel legacy

Black elders strateg izing with Asian elders

Robles left a foundation

Of self-reliance

planting seeds that left POOR with homefullness

collective ownership

_______________________________

Peoples culture versus American medical system

Breaking up families

Kids in foster care

elders in nursing homes

Lost of kinship no wonder we die early

...........................................................

Folk lyrics of justice by Chris Lijima

Mixing with 2009 Hip-Hop by Blue Scholars

A Song For Ourselves

Burn Hollywood burn

As we write and film our stories

In post production for more than thirty years

No more ties to foundations that had ties to the economy of plantations

Untie the knots that keep our art and stories like

Manilatown Is In The Heart..

In endless production

Passing It On wrote Yuri Kochiyama

"Gave up dancing to become a revolutionary" said Bill Sorro

When Will The Time Come? Sang Bambu

Rapping with Ten Thousand Carabaos in the Dark with Uncle Al Robles

Ted Nakamura, Trinh Minh-ha, Raeshem Nijhon

Pointing their lenses on his/herstories for the big screen

Noemi Sohn, Mia Mingus mixing identity & politics of race, sex & disability

on paper in lecture halls and on protest lines

Grace Padaca serving her people and country in the Governor's Mansion

Aiming to be the first disabled woman president of the Philippines

The smells of San Francisco

Black-eye Peas, Burritos, Lumpia MMMMMMMM

Forms a cloud of aroma around the Bay

Dissolving boundaries following your nose

Into different neighborhoods

Meeting the real policy makers cultural workers

Uncle AL's' spirit will always be around Maniltown

Like the sounds of great jazz musicians

Echoing through the Fillmore at 2am

With Sakeone on the cheek cheek- turntables

Remember Richard Aoki, A field marshal for The Black Panther Party

Not your average Asian, donated first defend weapons for police patrols to the BPP

Afro-Asian, Latino-Cuban, Puerto-Rican Tribes, Afro-Haitians

Jessie Jackson didn't create the concept of the Rainbow coalition more like Fred Hampton

So I stand here in the oral tradition

Continue to learn from my elders

Beyond institutional walls

Paying respect to Al, Bill, Chris, Yuri ...

A rainbow of Revolutionary spirits in the sky going back home

By Leroy F. Moore Jr.

by Wendy M. Fong

I was born in Santa Clara, California and my first language was Cantonese. I think my first word was “nay,” or milk, because I used to drink a bottle of milk everyday for breakfast. I remember at four years old telling my mom I wanted to "sake phan," or "eat food," while running around the kitchen squeaking and stomping on the emerald tiles in my yellow mouse slippers. Thirteen years later, everyday conversations of "jo san, ney ho?", "sai woon," and "ho liang" became “good morning, how are you,” “wash the dishes” and “very pretty” overnight. We only spoke English. I did not realize what exactly had happened. When did we stop speaking Cantonese? I could barely even remember how to say “sock.” What happened to our language? How did Cantonese slowly disengage itself without any of us realizing that English had conquered our home?

Lori Phanachone was born in California, moved to upstate New York, and a few years ago ended up in Storm Lake, Iowa at Storm Lake High School. She is daughter to migrant parents from Laos and an honors student. Upon enrollment in the beginning of her sophomore year, she received straight A’s, including an A in English. However also upon enrollment and without her knowledge, she was classified as an English Language Learner (ELL) based solely on the fact that she listed “Laotian” as her first language instead of English.

Later that school year, Lori was given an English Language Learner test, which is used to access a student’s progress in English every year. She took the test and answered everything correctly. However, she was still never aware that she was classified as an ELL.

During the following eleventh grade year, she was tested again. In protest, Lori completed the test by filling in all C’s. When she turned in the exam early, she was forced to wait on solitary confinement for more than three hours before being excused. Under Iowa law, if a student is classified as an ELL, they are allowed to monitor him or her for a few years to track their progress. Yet the process was not clear on how a student is considered an ELL in the first place. Also under Iowa provision, students who are bound to be proficient in English are supposed to be technically accessed, but again this process was not clear on whom or not requires this provision. Although Lori did well on the test her sophomore year, Storm Lake misapplied Iowa law by classifying her as ELL because she listed Lao as her home language.

This year is Lori’s senior year, and they asked her to take the test for a third time regardless of her 3.98 GPA and high marks in all her classes— all of which are taught in English. She refused to take the test and was suspended from school for three days. They also did not give a formal written notice of the suspension. When someone is suspended, Storm Lake High School is required to give a written notice before it occurs. They have also threatened to take away her eligibility for scholarships, and participation in school activities including track team, prom and other extracurricular activities; then proceeded to revoke her National Honor Society Membership.

“The school did not access Lori's actual abilities and needs. They made no effort to test her English proficiency formally through a test or informally through an interview,” said Khin Mai Aung, Lori’s the staff attorney at the Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund (AALDEF). They merely based it on the fact that English was not listed as her native language on her enrollment application.

Presently the story is ongoing. “Storm Lake labeled me an English Language Learner when I enrolled without even bothering to test me. All I want is to continue my education without the school labeling me unfairly,” said Lori. AALDEF demands that Storm Lake High School remove all disciplinary action from her school records, assure in writing statements of further discipline also be removed, written clarification of Storm Lakes’ procedure for classifying a student as an ELL, clarification on how the school assessed Lori as ELL, and Lori’s status to be adjusted as a student proficient in English. “School districts need to have assessments that make sense and are based on students' actual abilities rather than broadly categorize based on blunt criteria,” said Khin.

As of Friday, April 8, 2009, Storm Lake School District reclassified Lori as English proficient and restored her National Honor Society membership. However, the other requests are still pending.

by Mission Resistors

It came without warning!

I was going to be homeless with nowhere to sleep but the unpreditible streets of San Francisco, filled with drug addicts, mentally ill patients turned away from treatment centers, and roving bands of gangsters vying for turf space.

There had been a full-blown shoot out in front of Ella Hill the previous Fall, and a murder inside the shelter itself a couple months earlier, a man shot during an afterschool basketball game in front of his young daughter.

Ella Hill Hutch, the shelter I had stayed at for the last 1,000 days
was being shut down, the staff member at the front door informed me
as I entered that cool night last Spring.

“Can you believe that?” he exclaimed in disbelief.

I could hear the fear in his voice and realized that it not only meant that we would be losing our place to sleep, but he would be losing his job as well.

“We have a petition over there on the table you can sign if you want to try to keep the place open,” he said.

by Staff Writer

Dear Uncle Al

I remember when

you was telling me stories

about the many manongs

and the carabaos

and fish soups

and singing

and the blondies

all traveling in the mish mash

memories

somewhere

like radio waves

invisible

at manilatown

and beyond.

they carry traces

of their history

and the tears

were the burden

of the futures

they were building

like the many seeds across

the American west

and floating across the

Pacific ocean.

Dear Uncle Al

thanks for the stories

you tell

to make sense of

the criss cross

mish mash lives of

young pinay plant

growing from roots

tangled

across different land masses

in the Pacific.

Ellen-Rae

by Tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia, co-teacher, poverty scholar and daughter of Dee

My name is Vinnie and I make a living with this," his hands were small and Columbian--coffee brown, each finger rippled with the struggle of homelessness, racism and poverty as he carefully unfolded a 12-inch cardboard sign upon which was meticulously printed black letters stating Starvin Like Marvin. (A reference to one of the famous sayings of middleweight boxing champion Marvin Hagler.)

The indigenous circle of multi-lingual, multi-generational and multi-racial, youth, adults and elders in poverty who produce news rooted in community struggle, art and resistance known as Community Newsroom at POOR Magazine busted into laughter of joy and appreciation at the sight of his sign. Vinnie stayed quiet as his sharp, chocolate eyes scanned the room. Then slowly, tentatively, the corners of his mouth seemingly frozen in a serious stillness lifted to reveal a broad and beautiful smile. He shook his head in tandem with the laughter, and just for a miraculous second, almost unseen, barely caught, Vinnie seemed carefree.

In a powerful collaboration between The Race, Poverty Media Justice Institute (RPMJ) at POOR Magazine, Intersection for the Arts and the Mission Community Council, I and other poverty scholars in residence at POOR Magazine were blessed to meet Vinnie H, Carmen C, Jennalyn S, Rhonda C, Jon T, Carlos L, Raymundo S and many more folks that we at POOR consider poverty, race, migrant, gender, elder and/or youth scholars engaged in different forms of unrecognized micro-business (panhandling, recycling, day laborers, sex work, mothering) and survival.

Through this collaboration, entitled Mission Resistance as it focused specifically on mission based organizations and communities, folks like Vinnie were exposed to the revolutionary concept of poverty scholarship itself, launched by POOR's RPMJ, which honors and recognizes the scholarship of youth, adults and elders in poverty for the knowledge they hold, have earned and continually learn from lives of struggle.

Starting with the first magical day in March, POOR's RPMJ led over 35 scholars from several non-profit organizations such as Mission Neighborhood Resource Center, Delores Street Community Services, La Raza Centro Legal, the Iris Center and St Joseph's Center through an intensive bi-lingual media, arts and organizing workshop in creative writing basics, media literacy, media justice, journalism and poverty scholarship called The Revolution Begins with I.

Your 'I' stories of struggle and survival, to stay housed, to stay employed, to feed your children, to fight systems that are in place to support you and often do the opposite, to find shelter, to keep your families safe and your children educated are valid and significant stories, important community media, and what we at POOR/PoorNewsNetwork consider revolutionary truth media, RPMJ co-teacher and co-editor, Tony Robles explained to the Mission Resistance class on the first day.

I have struggled to be housed with no help from most of the services supposedly in place to help homeless people,Jon T, began his RPMJ I am exercise tentatively, wondering out loud if his story of struggle was valid, or was in fact even media...By the graduation ceremony of Mission Resistance 8 weeks later, he presented his story to get housed, fight eviction and eventually become permanently housed as a story of resistance and triumph.

Your stories of struggle can cause change, can be tools of change, my experience of struggle with the welfare system has helped to change legislation that works against poor parents like me,� co-teacher, poverty scholar and welfareQUEEN Vivien Hain inspired the class with her own poverty scholarship and media resistance.

�I was profiled, stopped and questioned just for being a brown man on my way to get a job,� David M, a soft-spoken young man spoke at the third class of Mission Resistance, barely looking up from his small cup of hot tea. Working three jobs just to save money for housing, David was silently dealing with homelessness and racism while receiving services from Dolores Street Community Services. In addition to the actual struggle related to poverty, David was dealing with a silent and more brutal conflict, the shame associated with poverty, a shame that inhibits dreams, destroys hope and kills spirit. By the last class, a confident and focused David addressed the Newsroom with the subject of his investigative journalism project: �I want to write about the impact of budget cuts on mental health services for poor people of color in the Bay Area,� he concluded without looking down.

Los Viajes/The Journeys - the Mission media of migration

�La revolucion comienza con migo!� (The revolution Begins with �I�) called out Guillermo Gonzalez, co-teacher of the Voces de inmigrantes en resistencia program at POOR Magazine and coordinator of the Los Viajes project at POOR Magazine, a literary and audio anthology of peoples migration/immigration across borders all over the world.

Los Viajes was the concurrent project of Mission Resistance led by POOR Magazine migrant scholars. Taught in Spanish to migrant & poverty scholars from El Salvador, Guatemala, Mexico, Laos, the Carribean and beyond, this project incorporated the revolutionary �I� curriculum as well as beautiful stories of peoples' journeys across borders and lands to help support their families and folks. Through literary and visual art, this project also introduces the UN declaration on Indigenous Peoples � a new lens on migration to migrant communities in the Bay Area and will continue with several workshops and performances until a formal release in September in tandem with the anniversary of the signing of the UN declaration on Indigenous Peoples.

�Yo soy madre inmigrante de tres hijos,� (I am an immigrant mother of three children) Carmen, one of the members of Colectiva de Mujer of La Raza Centro Legal read an excerpt of her journey to the audience at the Mission Resistance graduation ceremony on April 8th. Carmen, who is struggling to feed her children as a working poor migrant mama, added with pride after reading her work of literary art and media resistance. �And, I, am a Poverty Scholar.�

Tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia, poet, revolutionary journalist, poverty scholar, welfareQUEEN, co-founder and executive Director of POOR Magazine/PoorNewsNetwork and daughter of Dee, is the author of Criminal of Poverty: Growing Up Homeless in America published by City Lights. She is also the Communications Director for Justice Matters.

POOR Magazine is a non-profit grassroots, arts, organization that provides media access, art and advocacy to youth, adults and elders in poverty in the Bay Area as well as on-site child care and arts education for children through the Family Project For more information about POOR Magazine�s ongoing media, arts and organizing project go on-line to www.poormagazine.org and for more information about our education program for educators, professionals and community members at the Race, Poverty Media Justice Institute go on-line to www.racepovertymediajustice.org.