2009

by Phil Adams/PNN

Up Against the Wall Motherfucker is the story of how a man made the transformation of privileged Jewish college student attending Columbia University to a civil rights attorney working in South Berkeley and all the birth pangs that go with it. Most of story is concentrated on Osha's days as a "MotherF*cker" living in slums of New York in the 60's fighting for ideals that nobody had a complete grasp of yet. The honesty with which Osha writes about his feelings and beliefs at that time is truly inspiring. It was obviously a confusing time not only for himself but for the country in general, as it seemed the whole nation was trying to figure out which way to go. I think Osha did a good job capturing the feeling and spirit of those days.

This book does have a lot to teach younger activists just stepping into the game. The whole reason people get involved with social justice and activism is because they sense some type of inequality in the social system that we live in. Those emotions that come with that can easily be morphed into anger and rage. What Osha did in Up Against the Wall Motherf**ker was he told his story on how he dealt with those feelings and how he matured and got over them. He also acknowledges how much all of those Motherfuckers who survived "sold out"and settled down. Over all the book is brilliant and how honest Osha is about conveying his emotions at the time is truly inspiring.

However, Osha does acknowledge the immaturity and naivety of the 60's revolutionary thought process. For all the wealth of knowledge and righteousness these young revolutionaries had the immaturity in the way they expressed it isolated them from the society they were trying to liberate, eventually causing the downfall of the Motherfuckers.

The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of a mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one
-William Stekel (Austrian Psychoanalyst 1868-1940)

I had problems with this myself. Originally when reading Up Against the Wall Motherfucker I felt like I identified a lot with Osha's younger days. I understand the rage at the injustice of our social system and the need to destroy fallacies that shackle the minds of people, whether physically or through language. In fact, he was about two years older than I am now. I think it's natural that young men who feel inequality want to attack and physically fight those who facilitate the injustice. The thing is the majority of the world is not young men; the world includes our elders, women, and children who don't identify as much with these feelings and who just want to live peacefully. So through acts of physical violence we are in fact exposing those who should be protected to danger. Violence may sometimes be necessary, just because you play fair doesn't mean others do, but trying to prove an intellectual argument through violence makes you a fascist yourself.

However Up Against the Wall Motherfucker was not about a bunch of violent hippies running around the lower east side. The Motherfuckers did a lot of valid revolutionary actions. Such as the take over of the Bill Graham's Fillmore East amphitheatre in response to the gentrification of the community:

Discarded sandwiches, cigarette butts, cans and bottles littered the carpets. Much wine was drunk, much dope was smoked. The program, such as it was, proceeded amidst a chorus of boasts, threats, brags and rambling fantasies shouted out from every corner of the auditorium. Bill Graham's green-shirted ushers stood by, attempting to make themselves inconspicuous, utterly powerless to control the magnificent chaos of the event.
-Osha Neumann "Up Against the Wall Motherfucker"

I don't think activism has changed much through the years. In the long view we are all people and we all have similar emotions and thought processes. Up Against the Wall Motherfucker is basically Osha's autobiography and how he dealt with the inequality he saw in the society we live in. It's the story of how a young hippie matured and became a civil rights attorney and true revolutionary

by Tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia/poverty scholar and daughter of Dee

"Don't look away, Jamal" From the shadows a tired and spirit-dead
adult lurked with a bowl of acid ready to burn into the eyes of an
unsuspecting orphan in the Mumbai of Slumdog Millionaire. "a Blind
child can make more money singing on the street," someone whispers
into the night sky. In a seamless filmic second Jamal and his older
brother Salim escape, tricking the omnipresent desperation,
destruction and violence of poverty that lurks at every turn
throughout their young lives. Throughout the whole movie, I
alternately cried and murmured my mama Dee's name, an orphan who like
she would say so many times, was like all orphan children across the
globe, unwanted, unseen, unloved and perhaps worst of all,
unprotected.

Iota by iota, I have lost my life, in faith,/ I've passed this night
dancing on coals,/ I blew away the sleep that was in my eyes,/ I
counted the stars till my finger burned.. lyrics from Jai Ho - one of the theme songs from Slumdog Millionaire

My mama, like Salim and Jamal and the small girl they befriend,
Latika, in the Oscar winning movie, Slumdog Millionaire, by Danny
Boyle was viewed as trash, a bother, or at best, something to profit
off of, by any adults who took the time to notice her, feed her or
shelter her. My mama was the illigimate, unwanted daughter of a
Boricua African immigrant and an Irish teenager. My mama was born in
Philadelphia.

"You should see that movie Tiny, homeless people here live in luxury
compared to those kids," a hairdresser acquaintance of mine said
referring to Slumdog Millionaire, making me cringe, Oh god no, I
thought, a movie that further creates the myth of "real" poverty
versus the experience of poor people in the US, who just need to get a
job and "pull themselves up by their bootstraps."

There are many different possible critiques of Slumdog Millionaire,
not the least of which is the increased fetishization of South Asian
peoples in poverty, with barely a U2 like, vague critique of poverty
and globalization. Playing to millions of people, who would rather
look to developing countries who have "real poverty" as it is easier,
cleaner, sexier, color-filled, simpler, rather than look in their own
backyard at the thousands of unseen, unheard , houseless and hungry
children and families in the US. Children like I was, at age 11, when
my poor abused mama was unable to silence the screams that lurked in
her head from her brutal childhood after the loss of her last job and
finally succumbed to those screams into complete disability, leaving
us in deep poverty and ongoing houselessness for the duration of my
childhood.

.... Taste it, taste it, this night is honey,/ Taste it, and keep it,/
It's the heart, the heart is the final limit..

One of PNN's former interns, himself born into wealth in
South Asia, and I discuss this movie constantly, his contention, it
presents a lie about modern day India, That a white man (Danny Boyle) colonized an art form already crafted (Bollywood) and made it from his lens. This is a very serious critique from POOR Magazine's perspective, we actively resist artistic and journalistic transubstantive errors made by default colonizers about cultures not their own. So this leaves me in conflict, because I also believe this movie depicts the reality
of struggling children in deep poverty, the desperation of survival by any means
necessary and the pimping of their poverty, by so-called "saviors" (a murderous "orphanage director" shown preying on the children) better than almost any movie i have ever seen. Then again, maybe I haven't seen enough South-Asian films.

So does this movie about poor folks, poor children, do what almost all
depictions of poor people do and have done since Charles Dickens stories about
poor folks in the ghettos of New York in turn of the century
Amerikkka. Through Dickens' Eurocentric, middle-class lens, he only saw
them as living in "squalor" "being dirty", and living in
"over-crowded" conditions and needing to be at best "cleaned-up" and
worst, "saved". In one stroke of his fountain pen, he stripped them
of their beauty, their power, their heroism, their sprit, language and
culture, resulting in the literary theft of their inherent agency,
and forever setting the narrative tone for other-ness documentations
of communities in poverty as well as the ever-popular to this day,
hygienic metaphors about "cleaning up poor folks".

To insure that more poverty scholars whose voices are intentionally silenced on all issues must less movie critiques get a chance to review this movie and weigh in on the message, POOR Magazine sponsored a movie night for our youth and adult poverty scholars in residence and our students in the Race, Poverty and Media Justice Institute that teaches folks living in poverty revolutionary media and organizing. We do a movie night, both corporate and non-corporate, several times a year as films are just another form of "media" to be read and critiqued by silenced communities. Almost across the board each of them were very impressed and overwhlemed with the movie and its message.

Our post-film discussion led me to conclude, this was a movie about what we at POOR Magazine call poverty
scholars and poverty scholarship, people whose scholarship is rooted
in their lived experience, rather than learned experience. Jamal's
brilliance, his knowledge, was rooted in lived experience. In a series
of flashbacks told to a police officer accusing him of "being a
slum-kid, not capable of that level of intelligence" was at once a
deft story-telling filmic trick but it also acted as a seamless way to
unfold not only Jamal's plight of love lost, his live-based knowledge
but also the undying hope of not only love but youth and humanity
itself.

Unlike Dickensian wrong-ness, Slumdog Millionaire was
truly a depiction of the power , sprit and strength of poor children
and families who continue to try, to work, to hope and to dream. In
fact it showed the subtleties of survival of underground economic
strategists, and ghetto scholars everywhere, who like my poor mama
managed to make it by any means necessary

No, I conclude, this is our movie , and the only problem is, other
folks, rich folks, who don't get the terror of endless struggle, the
unconditional and beautiful hope of very poor children, the work ethic
and desperation of poor workers, and poor families, shouldn't be
allowed to see it, Ever. No, we the very poor, need this movie to
remember who we are, the wealth of knowledge we hold, the deep
reality-based knowledge of Poverty Scholarship we all have, and to
remember that no matter how hard it gets, there is still hope, there
is still love and poetry and silliness, and beauty and above all, to
remember the connection between the struggle of people in poverty
across the globe.

.... Come, come my Life, under the canopy,/ Come under the blue
brocade sky!".. lyrics translated from one of the Oscar winning songs
in Slumdog Millionaire, Jai Ho, by A.R. Rahman

by Marlon Crump/PNN

Wow, I thought to myself, I just purchased some groceries, and I hadn't even gotten past the security monitor checkpoint, and here was a supermarket employee profiling me!

In the aftermath of my near-death police brutality experience surrounding "racial profiling" and even "class profling" by a dozen members of the San Francisco Police Department on October 7th, 2005 at 11:50 p.m, I felt that I wouldn't be "profiled" by any law enforcement official ever again or at least in this lifetime.

Thus far, I have not had any problems with law enforcement officials. It's fair to say that people are profiled by other people 24/7, not just from people of the law enforcement persuasion.

Given my years of unrelenting efforts towards raising vast public awareness of police abuse, racial profiling, unwarranted actions into poor people's housing with my voice/attendance to the S.F Police Commission, writing stories for POOR, filing a civil action (as my own attorney) against the City of San Francisco, and even going to the S.F Police Academy last year to motivate the youth recruits to deter from such actions; I figured that all forms of "profiling" was now dead............at least for me.

Unfortunately, the death of "profiling" was reincarnated. It descended upon me on a fairly warm and nippy-like March 21st, 2009 on a 12:50 p.m. Saturday afternoon from an unlikely source..................... a supermarket employee who was "acting security."

FOODS CO, a supermarket part of a network grocery chain located at 1800 14th/Folsom St (just a ten minute walking distance from where I live) has been a significant food chain for people in poverty to purchase relatively affordable groceries.

Many customers, (including myself) have depended on FOODS CO, for quite some time now, to keep their food prices relatively low to satisfy poor people's budget, at some degree.

Right after the illegal October 7th, 2005 S.F.P.D raid in my Single Room Occupancy Hotel, I went to FOODS CO to operate my food stamp card to get just enough food to satisfy the hunger pains in my stomach, as well as to the shock of my conscience of nearly losing my life to a dozen cops over "mistaken identity."

I walked into FOODS CO to satisfy those same similar hunger urges I had back then. What I did NOT anticipate was for similar shock consciousness (mental elements from my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) to resurface in light of that deep, dark fateful October 2005 night. Only this time, there weren’t going to be any deadly firearms to be pointed at me, by police officers:

Today, the ignorance of an employee was pointed at me, as a possible shoplifter!

I glanced at the construction renovations that were taking place, outside the store as I approached the entrance. Walking inside the store was like passing through a mini tunnel, due to the outside construction. This was somewhat of an inconvenience to the shoppers, because this was both the ENTRANCE and EXIT, temporarily.

The night before, I was told by a cashier that typically works the evening shift that the store would be closed for most of the week. FOODS CO was getting a "face lift" according to the flyer he handed to me.

This supermarket was always packed with customers, sometimes even at night where there weren't alot of cashiers.

I looked around various store aisles to determine what kind of food would make my heart content for the day. "Hi, do you need help with something?" an employee asked. "Oh no, I'm fine, but thank you." I replied, with a warm smile. I knew him from my frequent store visits, and he was always customer courteous.

After packing my basket with a pack of hotdogs, a can of chili with beans, a loaf of bread, a gallon of fruit juice and two cans of beer, I headed to the express checkout line. Fortunately for me, the line was very slim, and I only had a five minute wait.

"Your total is $6.35, please." said a FOODS CO cashier--a young Latino man, with short low-cut black hair, wearing square-rimmed glasses. I reached into my wallet, took out six dollars, and gave it to him along with 35 cents. He quickly gave me my receipt and tended to the other customer.

I packed my groceries into one shopping bag, doubling them to ensure strong quality, and began to head out the entrance/exit.

I was just barely a foot away from the store's security checkpoint scanner, when out of nowhere, a short middle-aged Latino woman, wearing a green apron bearing her employee FOODS CO I.D., stopped me literally dead in my tracks. It was as if she was Wonder Woman or Supergirl poised against her prey, though I was hardly the villian.

"I need to see your receipt and check your bag."

My jaw tried to drop to the ground, but it knew I was too shocked to pick it back up, so it stayed where it was. Why did this employee even stop me before I even went through the security monitor checkpoint scanner?

Three years, counting every single hour, minute, second, day, week, daylight savings time, spring, summer, fall, and winter. Counting every single food stamp transaction, cash transaction, A.T.M/Debit card. Three years, counting good days, bad days, depressed days, stressed days, emotional days, sick days, alive and well days.

Three years, I have NEVER had ANY problem at FOODS CO, with its employees, and/or store management. The employees gave me respect, and I gave it back to them in return. Some of the managers delivered warm smiles, and I returned the exact same smiles. Even the store security guards gave me respect, with a friendly nod, and I also returned the same.

Three years, and none of that began to matter! Today on March 21st, 2009 at approximately 12:50 p.m. my humility and reputation were in the danger of being shattered. The uncomfortable feeling that you're being treated as if you did something wrong (even though you had not) grasps your dignity and humility.

"Look at this. I don't see beer on the receipt."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't see it on your receipt."

"That's kind of strange, because everything that I had on the checkout belt should've been rung up," I replied. I showed her on the receipt where it said "Age Verification Bypassed" which indicates that a customer has purchased an alcoholic beverage or a tobacco product, without having to show their I.D.

Unfortunately for me, it was revealed that there was only one beer sale listed on the receipt. Rather than get into a heated argument exchange with her and cause a scene, I suggested that we both go confront the cashier who rung up my items.

I followed her over to the appropriate cashier. He nodded to her that he did ring up all my items, until he studied the receipt further. "Uh, no, I only charged you for one beer and not the other."

Then came the real shocker: "I didn't see you with two beers, only one was on the counter." My eye lids perched upwards like a hawk, as I was surprised by his words.

"What!" I exclaimed. "That's strange, because I placed all of my items from my basket onto this belt. You scanned all of my items. I come through your checkout lines a lot and this never happened before. How could you have missed this one beer, when it was with my other items...........on the counter?!"

The cashier coldly looked away from me, refusing to acknowledge the possibility that he might have errored, irresponsibly. If he would've said, "I'm sorry, I must have forgot to scan it through." Then I would have at least understood, because everyone makes mistakes. He didn't want to appear to have been doing his job improperly, so he shifted the blame towards me.

Even so, what ever happened to the cardinal consumer rule that "customers are always right?" I guess it didn't apply to me, today.

Three f@#%$king years!

After a few brief back and forth exchanges, I ended up paying for the beer, which I had absolutely no problem doing in the first place. Why wouldn't I? I'm not a thief, and I always pay for my items. But from what I was understanding it clearly from the cashier, he was implying that I must have snuck the beer from underneath his "radar." Buy one, steal one free?

I shot them both an angry glare and asked them for the store manager. They referred me to another cashier who called the manager on the store intercom. As I waited, I alerted my comrades on my own phone to what was taking place.

The manager, a short heavy-set Caucasian woman with blond hair and slim dark streaks came from upstairs to talk to me. I politely explained to her what was going on. As heated as my temper was, I refused to lose my composure. I thought that she would've been more understanding to this situation. Something in her pupils told me a different story.

As a spiritual person having been prone to people's various levels of energy, negative and positive, I immediately got the feeling that she did not believe a word that came out of my mouth. When she started talking to me, her voice, eye contact, body language confirmed the vindictive attitude I received from her based on my observation(s) of her.

"He's already told me what happened. I believe his word over yours," she said. "He's worked here for quite a while, and I doubt that he would be making all of this up. Why are you complaining about an unpaid beer? It’s not like it’s free." Tricia then took the "undetected" beer out of my bag, and was getting ready to put it back, until I told her that the cashier had just charged me for it.

"Where's the receipt?" she asked. I searched both of my pockets, and my bag that contained my groceries. I realized that amidst this madness, either the cashier or the woman that stopped me must have kept it. Now I only had the second receipt he gave me, verifying that I had just paid for the second beer. I showed it to her.

There have been many terms that define the term "profiling." One of them in recent years is "Shopping while Black" which gives a definition to African Descent customers when they walk into an average consumer business, such as a shopping mall, a grocery store, a department store, a liquor store and even a restaurant, and are harassed because of their descent.

Yes, it's important to acknowledge the existence of criticisms, "Oh that can happen to anyone, regardless of skin color." (Which is very true) However, statistics, reports, surveys and especially history itself, has proven time and time again that black people are always the most watched than any other race in the world.

Unfortunately, I’ve never been immune to the problems, speaking from SO many experiences, as a young African-Descent man.

This is especially true if there are black shoplifters caught and subsequently, there becomes a red alert on many black shoppers because of that one or two that were caught stealing. Notwithstanding, what a person wears also gives off the wrong signals, judgments and assumptions. These are the attributes that lead up to "profiling" and "racial profiling" via "shopping while black."

You can tell if you're being "profiled" or "singled out" when as soon as you walk into any kind of merchandise store, along comes an employee who decides to follow you around, or asks "If they can help you" barely giving you a minute to even shop for an intended item.

Even singers, celebrities and performer have encountered "profiling" incidents committed by store employees and cop........................that is until the profiling perpetrators recognize who they are.

The manager wanted to see both receipts. While I kept asking her to go ask the cashier to get confirmation, she stared at me for a few seconds, indicating she still didn't believe me. The reasons the manager had for not believing me were evident in her eyes.

The manager finally asked the cashier and he did confirm that I had JUST paid for it, so she then gave it back to me. Then I thought to myself, "Evidently I must have just paid for it, else what do I look like having a bag full of groceries, with only ONE receipt for ONE purchase?"

I argued that their store security cameras could ultimately validate all my claims. I suggested that we both could view the cameras. The manager's eyes flashed, and she sternly refused. "There is no way I am going to have you go upstairs and look at the camera!" I said that was fine by me.

"But I wanted to lodge a complaint against this store. I know you guys have complaint forms, and I want one."

The manager said that they didn't have any complaint forms. She wrote down the number to the corporate office, "Ralph's Food 4 Less" and gave it to me. I took the number from her, rolled my eyes at her then I walked out the entrance/exit past the Latino woman employee that stopped me, who was now wearing a skinny smirk on her face.

I quickly walked past her with a dirty look, shaking my head at her, as I departed from my former favorite supermarket, narrowly missing and dodging the incoming customers pushing their shopping carts.

Total embarrassment and humiliation, I was nearly put in a position where security could’ve sided with the store employees, if they would've been called on me. Even if he would've recognized me as a frequent customer, there is no question in my mind that he would've sided with them for the safety of keeping his job.

There's also no telling what could've taken place. A mere "misunderstanding" could've elevated into an unnecessary chaotic scene, where security personnel and cops could've been called on me, and who knows what could've transpired?

Three f@##king years down the drain, caused by three people's foolishness, resulting in the birth of my disinterest to continue my business at their store, and maybe in any of other FOODS CO stores, for that matter. No r-e-s-p-e-c-t FOR me, no c-h-e-c-k FROM me. Unbelievably unfair!

I'm a living testimony of "misunderstandings" and the effects it can have on someone. They nearly cost me my very own life. It's strikingly ironic that after my October 7th, 2005 S.F.P.D encounter, I went down to this very store before closing time, after being "racial profiled" about thirty minutes before. Here I was years later being profiled at a store, just a few adequate walking distance from my home, by an employee that apparently lacks security experience.

From where I see it, FOODS CO needs more than an outside "face lift" to attract more customers. The real plastic surgery should begin with spiritual surgery, with accountability to the characters of some of its employees and management.

The Ralphs/Food 4 Less Foundation to Donate Over $60,000 to African American Organizations as Part of Black History Month Program.

In recognition of Black History Month, The Ralphs/Food 4 Less Foundation will accept donations from customers throughout the month of February in more than 450 Ralphs, Food 4 Less (Southern California, southern Nevada, Illinois and Indiana), Foods Co, Bell Markets and Cala Foods stores.

All funds collected will be donated directly to African-American organizations with a focus on education, culture and heritage. Customers can support the Black History Month fundraising program by donating their spare change in specially marked collection canisters located at the checkstands in their neighborhood Ralphs, Food 4 Less, Foods Co or Cala/Bell supermarket.

http://www.prnewswire.com/cgi-bin/stories.pl?ACCT=105&STORY=/www/story/02-02-2005/0002944982

by Marlon Crump

"Biggie Biggie Biggie can't you see."

"Sometimes your words just hypnotize me."

"And I just love your flashy ways."

"Guess that's why they broke, and you're so paid."

(Lyrics from legendary rapper, Christopher Wallace a.k.a, The Notorious B.I.G in his hit single "Hypnotize" from his 1997 album, "Life After Death."

The mid-1990s, found the entire rap and hip hop world being divided between the fame, rivalry, and media exploitation(s) of two leading legendary rap artists on two different coasts, with two rap names, two death similarities, both with one youth group of proteges, with one goal in mind:

Making it big. (No pun intended.)

They accomplished this goal (even after their untimely deaths.) by using their vibrant verbal ability into the art of rap.

One of those legendary rap artists was Christopher Wallace, a.k.a "Notorious B.I.G" also known as "Biggie Smalls." On Friday January 16th, 2009 found hip hop fans (including myself) storming to movie theaters, nationwide to catch the motion picture film premiere of "Notorious."

Notorious is about the life of Christopher Wallace and his road to becoming the legendary rapper, "Notorious B.I.G" a.k.a "Biggie Smalls."

It briefly narrates his childhood experience, his dis-interest from having any further interests of high school, his open arms to the drug dealing, the life leisures that motivated him, running from the common cop on the block, brief incarcerations, bearing a daughter, marriage, his ultimate rise to the top of rap fame in the rap game (industry), until his fall from grace into unknown gunfire, are all wrapped up into this film.

Violetta Wallace, (mother of Biggie Smalls) and Sean "Puff Daddy" Combs (founder of Bad Boy Records.) helped produced "Notorious" during its October 2007 casting call for the movie production.

"Do or die Bedsty."

Bedford-Stuyvesant is the section of Brooklyn, New York where Christopher Wallace (played by Jamal Woolard, a real life Brooklyn based rapper.) was born and raised. My ears snatched these words, as they boomed into movie audience, alongside of the sound quality of "surround sound" that deafened people's ears, in addition.

The movie begins with Biggie's death, on March 9th, 1997. Biggie, his friends, and other artists of the record company called Bad Boy, are planning to attend an after-party hosted by Vibe Magazine and Qwest Records, in Los Angeles. While the sounds of their happiness could be heard distinctively as they drive along an intersection, the sound of a car pulling up to Biggie's, with a gun, a single shot, then Biggie's head jerking sideways were heard up close.

Woolard narrates throughout the entire film, of his character portrayal's life story, beginning with Wallace's childhood, and the cruel comments made by a couple of girls at him because of his large weight size and unattractive looks. Though saddened by these remarks, Young Christopher Wallace (played by the actual real Christopher Wallace Jr, Biggie Smalls son.) turns his attention toward writing rap lyrics on his notepad, and practices rapping the lyrics, aloud.

"$100, is that all he's worth to you?" scowls Violetta Wallace, in a scene (played by actress, Angela Basset) to the father of their son. After the father leaves, Miss Wallace comforts Christopher and assures him that she would take care of him, no matter what.

The movie accelerates into scenes where Christopher longs for the finer things in life, as he began to view the world around him. Young men like him were wearing expensive clothing, coats, jewelry, shoes, etc, immediately enticed him into wanting to make big dollars, which found him on the neighborhood block selling drugs.

He ignores the pleas/warnings/face slaps from his mother to stop his criminal activity in the streets. In school, Christopher solves a seemingly-difficult algebra math problem, at the surprise of his teacher, then clowns him when he does a math problem of his own, on the blackboard.

After Christopher does a comparison between the difference between what he, a professional worker and than the other would make on their salary; Christopher subtracts the problem and gave his sarcastic thought to the answer: "I'd be making $4,000 more than his dumbass!" The classroom erupts in laughter, while the teacher erupted with anger telling Christopher to leave.

When Christopher gets busted, his mother refuses to bail him out of jail. Along with administering "tough love" she asks him to recite the Bible verse, "Yay though I walk through the shadow of death......" Those words seemed to echo at Christopher, causing him to read more verses to the Bible, as well as commit to improvements towards writing down his lyric skills as he lay in his jail cell.

Christopher finds himself in a rap confrontation competition with a well-known neighborhood rapper. Proving that he was worthy of being the future "Greatest Rapper of all time" Christopher's words swiftly spit out like rapid ammo from an AK-47, resulting in his opponent's rap beat defeat much to the delight of the onlookers on the street.

After a second arrest occurrence for illegal possession of a firearm, Christopher is arrested along with his friend, D-Roc. D-Roc takes the blame for Christopher because he sees his ability to one day become successful. "If you make it, we ALL make it!"

Notorious shows the women in Biggie's life. Jan, mother of Christopher's first child, T'yanna his sexual relationship and verbal assaults to rapper and female vocal artist of Bad Boy Records, Lil Kim (played by Naturi Naughton), and his marriage to R&B singer Faith Evans.

"Don't chase the paper, chase the dream!"
(Sean "Puff Daddy" Combs to Biggie."

Notorious mildly shows the intimate relationship between Christopher Wallace and Sean "Puff Daddy" Combs (played by Derek Luke). Their first encounter begins with a bit of uncertainty because Combs is concerned about Christopher's "steady income", and how he gets it.

Despite the barriers that gets thrown in their face, such as Combs getting fired from Uptown Records A&R, Christopher's mom diagnosed with breast cancer, and his depression; they both finally make the big time after Combs establishes his own record label, which came to be Bad Boy Records, along with the big success of Biggie's "Ready to Die" album, where he quickly shot to the top of the music charts, and appeared on many big named magazines publications.

It is here where Christopher Wallace truly becomes the Notorious B.I.G, a.k.a Biggie Smalls to the world.

As I continued watching the film, the most anticipated scene I awaited in Notorious arrived: Biggie Smalls and his friendship-turned-rivalry with another legendary rapper, Tupac Shakur!

I think that it was here when I believe people's excitement began to rise onto movie theaters everywhere, and not just in the movie theater that I was in, in anticipation of this film's depiction of the feud between these legendary rap artists that fueled the"East Coast vs West Coast" rap war phenomenon.

Those that might have been sleeping, going back and forth to the bathroom, or making out with their girlfriend became immediately attentive in this scene and the ones that followed, throughout the film.

Even just from the film's depiction of Biggie and Pac's relationship and rivalries on the big screen, raised some emotions for survivors, members, and observers of the "East Coast vs West Coast" rap war, which died (or at least died) down down when its rap lyric leaders died.

Tupac Shakur a.k.a 2Pac (played by Anthony Mackie) is already well-known in the rap and movie industry. For a few short scenes, and occasions, Shakur and Biggie talk about how much admirations they have for each others success. It was almost hard to believe how these two rap titans would become mortal enemies.

Although Tupac believed and contended even to his death that Biggie and Puff Daddy had prior knowledge as to the information of the man that robbed and shot him, as he entered the lobby of Quad Recording Studios, in Manhattan, New York; Biggie and Puffy always denied Pac's accusations.

From the "Notorious" version of that event, Biggie questions Tupac of how well he knew of the man that was hanging around him, who wore army fatigue. Tupac said he was cool, but Biggie felt otherwise.

I felt the surround sound in the movie grow louder indicating something intense was getting ready to happen in the next scene, where Pac was shot in the 1994 New York robbery shooting.

Lil Cease, Biggie's cousin (member of Bad Boy's Junior M.A.F.I.A and Biggie's protege rap youth group.) happily greets Pac from the rooftops, and Pac returns the same love.

The scenes of Lil Cease going back downstairs via elevator, hearing shots ring out, having a gun and and an angry voice instructing him to get back on the elevator, Biggie being informed of the commotion by Lil Cease, Biggie grabbing his gun to investigate, N.Y.P.D Police members appear brandishing their own firearms, became the emotional embodiment for everyone worldwide that loved Tupac in what took place next.

"Which one of ya'll motherf@#%% shot me?! Ya'll motherf!@# set me up!!" Tupac screams, as he struggled from his bullet-wounds to get to his feet, and as he struggled to light his cigarette in front of a crowd of onlookers. Puffy comes to his aid, but Pac screams at him to get away from him.

It was at this moment where the rap war of "East Coast vs West Coast"is born. One thing that I noticed from this entire situation was that corporate mainstream media IMMEDIATELY seized the advantage to perpetuate the so-called "Black on Black." (A derogatory term by media in defining the homicidal deaths between young African Descent men.)

Rather than give exposure to the onetime friendship of these two talented rap artists and performers; corporate media hyped, elevated, and exploited the rivalry to further encourage even more violence in communities of color, by a way of competition.

Media furthermore blatantly refused to view and acknowledge them as two multi-talented artists with a feud, to justify its negative definition of rap/hip hop as being nothing more than "gangsta rap" in their campaign to destroy a cultural art.

From that time on, from the 1994 Tupac shooting, his release from jail on a sexual assault conviction after being bailed out by Death Row Records co-founder, Marian "Suge" Knight (played by Sean Ringgold), Pac and Biggie were verbally vicious at each other throats, by ways of hit song singles, music events, and even television onstage appearances. (One of those was the 1995 Source Awards.)

"So I f@#$$ your bitch
You fat mutha-@@#$ {Take Money}

West Side

Bad Boy Killers {Take Money}

You know who the realist is
Ni@@# we bring it to {Take Money}

[ha ha, that's alright]"

?

Lyrics from 2Pac's hit single, "Hit Em Up!" This song attacks Biggie, and Bad Boy. Pac boasts that he had a sexual intimate encounter with Biggie's wife, Faith Evans.

"Who shot ya?"

West coast mother@#$s...

West coast mother@#$%s... hah!

As we proceed, to give you what you need

As we proceed
to give you what you need

Get live mother@#$%s

9 to 5 mother!@#$#$s

Get money mother@#$%s"

Lyrics from hit single by Biggie Smalls, "Who shot ya?" from his 1994 album, "Ready to Die." 2Pac, Suge Knight, and many fans believe this was a subliminal diss (attack) by Biggie following the 1994 New York shooting, but Biggie and Puffy deny these allegations.

Notorious began to come to a close with the shooting deaths of 2Pac on September 7th, 1996 and the death of Biggie Smalls, six months later on March 9th, 1997. Biggie finds hardship in dealing with the shocking death of 2Pac, his dying relationship with his friend, Lil Kim and wife Faith Evans.

"I'm going, going.

Back, back

to Cali, Cali."

Lyrics From the Biggie Smalls hit single, "Going back to Cali" off of his 1997 album, "Life After Death."

Just the way "Notorious" started, is the way it ended. Though Biggie found himself in a car accident, life flashbacks, telling his daughter to never let a man disrespect her by calling her a "bitch" or his ignoring the constant death threats he received, or the pleas from his own mother to not to go to Los Angeles; Biggie was determined to move forward with his rap career.

Biggie says "We're in L.A, I want to give it all back, and "I felt that on this night, God was giving me a clean slate."All I could hear was that same surround sound level quality in the movie that alerted you when something bad was going to happened.

In the remarkable similar scenario as his hip hop rival 2Pac had encountered just six months before, Biggie is tragically felled by bullets, unknown, probably never even hearing the first shot.

All could be heard next, is the distinct yells, pleas, and cries for help as his friends of Bad Boy rush him to a nearby hospital, and the sound of his signature dark brimmed top hat hitting that dark deserted intersection of L.A.

After Puff Daddy asks Violetta Wallace if there was anything he could ever do for her during Biggie's funeral, her eyes met his, still clouded with her tears.

"I just want to take my son home."

In that, she returned his body to his birthplace where she and her son were quickly greeted with a hero's welcome. The sounds of "Hypnotize" could be heard among the deafening cheers of the massive fans that suffocated her and her son, Biggie Smalls.

Notorious is not only just a film about a legendary rapper, but it is also a film that exposes struggles for every young man of color everywhere to climb out of poverty, and many wanting to be rich.

It reveals their struggles to be seen and heard while trying to earn a shot in the hip hop spotlight, the extra-barriers and hurdles thrown their way, their combat against the coverages perpetuated by media's racist stereotypes, their engaging or resisting temptations that will corrupt their careers, and their prayer to Almighty God that they live to continue on with their work.

by Thornton Kimes/PNN

“The city! The city belongs to us!
We don’t need more budget cuts!”
--Dee Allen protest chant

The GA/PAES (San Francisco welfare) worker said, “We can talk to
everyone about you except the Unemployment people. That’s your
responsibility.” I felt like a tennis ball, bounced from a desk in
one building to one in another with a phone on it—and the Unemployment
voice on the other end of the line asked questions from I don’t know
how far away.

How did I get into this mess? Short answer: come close to that “You
can’t fire me, I quit!” knife-edged cliff, decide my last job lost
whatever charm was left even if HR wanted to do more than issue me a
pink slip. I resigned from Goodwill.

The long answer goes back to 1989, just before, during, and after the
earthquake in San Francisco—-though, in truth, it goes much farther
back. But TODAY is, among other things, my 4th time to be enrolled in
the city’s “Hellfare” fun-house hall of mirrors
more-than-3-ring-Catch-22 circus.

Today, we’re eyeballs deep in the economic crisis (Calgon, um, Obama
Take Me Awayyyyy...) that the high stakes capitalists of Wall Street
created and could no longer hide (sort of like those guys you see on
street corners playing that game with the pebble or the coin hidden
under one of three cups, the game that usually empties some of your
wallet—-THOSE guys are good at deception...).

The national and world economy is a ghost of itself, the California
economy was in trouble before the sub-prime mortgage filthy
mcnastiness raised its ugly head to the light of day-—and, yes,
yup-yup, San Francisco is in deep waters too.

The Board of Supervisors and the Mayor are faced with a $500
million-plus budget deficit, though it does seem like Gavin Newsom is
acting like a damsel in distress tied to the railroad tracks, wailing
about how there isn’t anything to be done but what must be done—-that
train is gonna shred some flesh from the bones no matter what!

Millions of dollars in cuts have already been made to health care and
other services to very low-income and no-income, barely-housed and
homeless citizens of San Francisco, some of them so stunning in the
scope of what they do to everyone like me that I’m fer sure havin’
that deer in the SUV-blinding-halogen-headlights feeling.

I’ve spent time in the homeless shelter now called Next Door (Geary
and Polk Streets) twice, both times for about 6 months. Next Door and
its country cousin MSC (Multi-Service Center) South, at 5th and Bryant
Streets, are, as you read this, no longer providing 6-month-long case
management beds to stabilize the transition from homeless to housed
for men and women who are healthy, have jobs or want to work. If the
next round of proposed cuts happen, there will be no shelter in San
Francisco providing anything you could call a “stabilizing influence”
for anyone in need.

So much for the “10 Year Plan To End Homelessness”. Feh! to “Care Not
Cash”! Newsome and the Supes say the budget is effed and you and you
and you are too. They don’t have the will, unless many San
Franciscans pressure them to cut other things from the budget—items
like the Opera, Symphony, Ballet, that have deep-pocketed patrons well
capable of covering whatever the city can’t, plus the true
administrative fat--some of it bulging from Newsome’s administrative
waist.

I’ve been to two meetings of the Human Services Commission and given
short public comments. The second one was attended by Newsome, who
told the Commission he hates cutting social service safety net
budgets-—but ya gotta do what ya gotta do! Badda bing.

Newsom almost had a shoe thrown at him, but the man behind me trying
to take off the symbolic missile he was wearing was stopped by someone
else demanding that he “show
some respect”.I started wondering if I will regret not shoeing Gavin
Newsom myself, since the man who did it to Bush has considerable
popular support in Iraq.

I went to the March 2nd, 2009 Town Hall Meeting at the Unitarian
Universalist Church at 1187 Franklin Street, just a few blocks from my
SRO hotel, to find out what some Supes in attendance had to say. The
public was going to have its say too and I wanted to deliver some of
my increasing displeasure, fear, and well, regrets about shoes.

There’s an old saying: not enough room to swing a dead cat. Even the
welfare social workers are getting to know what that means. My PAES
case manager recently said her department had been “decimated”.

Decimation, an old word and a nasty punishment—-the Roman Empire used
it, executing 1 in 10 people, be they ordinary citizens, slaves or
soldiers, for mutinies, riots, and other uprisings. City Hall workers
and welfare social workers were hacked and slashed with pink slips
before the Town Hall meeting, and I have a new case manager. Probably
no need to guess what happened to the “old” one.

There were other people there to speak as well, members of the staffs
of organizations helping those of us most in need of assistance.
Colleen Rivecca of the St. Anthony Foundation gave an overview of the
city budget process. She would have had more fun with the “monopoly
money” version that was recently enacted for the education of
interested folks at the Coalition On Homelessness. There were
certainly more than enough people sitting in the pews who would have
volunteered to be chunks of the budget.

Several other people spoke eloquently about what is happening now and
what fresh disasters may be soon transpire; Cindy Gyomi of the Hyde
Street Clinic provided a truly mind-bending example of the
merry-go-round Catch-22’s a low-income mental health system user will
experience, ultimately ending up homeless if nothing is done to at
least hold the line.

Of all the speakers, Melvina Hill, Recreation Director of Kezar
Stadium, got the most enthusiastic, loudest applause. She is well
loved by everyone who uses the stadium, including Special Olympics
community members who later spoke in her defense: the San Francisco
recreation and parks system is also being decidmated, the department
losing half its staff by Summer 2009 due to decisions made February
27th. I wondered if all this frustration and pain might contribute to
the rise of a new local political star on the horizon listening to Ms.
Hill and her supporters.

As for me, the Unemployment folks said no. Not enough room to swing a
dead cat, unless we remember and enforce what the Mistress of
Ceremonies, Tiny (Lisa Gray-Garcia) of Poor Magazine asked the
audience repeatedly: “Who’s budget is it?”

The answer: “Our budget!”

by tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia/PNN

Clap , snap, clap �the sound of batons clicking against skin � they surrounded us. three rows in back of us, three in front � one on either side. As far as the eyes could see, they were there, with swinging batons, thick boots on asphalt and helmuts down. They had no eyes, only weapons. Moving in formation, over 500 uniformed military po-lice entrapping mamaz, daddy�s, brothers and sons marching in honor of stolen lives, of their sons, brothers, fathers, mothers, lost to the guns and weapons of these very po�lice.

Hundreds of us walked, to their thousands. Signs held up to the sky, eyes trained in front of us, in peace. Voices of pain and resistance, reached out in tandem with our lost ancestors to join the chants filling the Oakland streets, �Enough is Enough, The whole System is guilty, we are all Oscar Grant!� No more stolen lives�!�

� Our son was shot in the back 8 times,� Sony Wahnee, mother of Andrew Moody, testified to the crowd, �We are proud Native people��

It was a chilling afternoon in February. The edges of night lurked at each corner. The sound of our voices, our music, our drums, our spirits, threaded through the Frank Ogawa Plaza in Downtown Oakland. The stolen lives, our family, our ancestors, stood with us as the voices of Rashidah Grinage, whose son and husband was taken down by Oakland PD, Danny Garcia, whose brother Mark was stolen and the fierce Mesha Irizarry, mama of Idriss, also shot down 28 times by San Francisco Po�Lice Department, were just some of the voices that filled the air and gave us strength to remember the lives lost to Po�Lice terror. Gave us the strength to resist the foreboding sound of impending violence and omnipresent fear of the po�lice that surrounded us.

POOR Magazine�s multi-generational family of race and poverty scholars, most of us victims of po�lice brutality, po-lice profiling, and/or other forms of po-lice terror, were there to re-port and sup-port on the March for Stolen Lives in downtown Oakland. We joined hundreds of dedicated justice fighters, survivors, family members and advocates to walk in honor of Oscar Grant, Mark Garcia, Andrew Moppin, Annette Garcia, Idriss Stelly, Amadou DIallo and countless other fallen victims of po�lice terror. We were peaceful. We were tired, we were angry. We were surrounded.

�Our son was a father of three children that now we have to raise,� Sony Wahnee continued.

As our group started to march, the plaza filled up with literally thousands of armed guards, militia, army, agents of pain, at POOR Magazine we call them the Po� Lice, but whatever you do, don�t call them when you need help, feel danger, feel unsafe, because they are trained to kill .

Right before we marched we were informed that the po'lice perpetrator, Mehserle was released on 300,000 bail.Our collective hearts fell at the ongoing just-Us.Seemingly in response, thousands more po'lice filled the streets. They tried to block our path, we did not back down.

�Mama, why are there so many police? My five year old son walked along side me silently, refusing to stop, never scared.

� Because we live in a police state, because there is no justice, only Just-Us, which is why we march.� Clap, snap, clap.

�No more stolen lives!�

by Marlon Crump/PNN

"Are there any other parents that are in a similar situation like you are?" Paulette Brown was asked during a recent radio broadcast interview.

"Yes there are." Paulette replied. "But too many of them are too scared to fight the system because it is such a big entity. We are just one person, or a group of mothers and fathers who are out here saying that our children are being abused."

Unfortunately, the system is a mammoth with divisions, subdivisions, and counterparts aimed specifically towards "certain issues." No matter what injustice one may experience as a result of the system’s action, fear is immediately imminent when they fight back, by simply speaking out.

"Fostercare" is defined as "a system by which a certified, "stand-in parent(s)" cares for minor children or young people who have been "removed" (or displaced) from their birth parents or other custodial adults by state authority."

Throughout U.S history (and most likely in other countries) the foster care system, homes and agency affiliates have presented a destructive ticket for children, physically and psychologically. No matter the overwhelming number of complaints that discover the desks of an administrative supervisor, an oversight agency, and a public official for fostercare reform.............the destination for the complaints seems to arrive into wastebaskets at the side of their desks.

Former U.S President Bill Clinton signed a fostercare law, the Adoption and Safe Families Act (ASFA) in 1997, written by Dr. Cassie Statuto Bevan, which reduced the time children are allowed to remain in fostercare before being available for adoption. This law required state child welfare agencies to identify cases where "aggravated circumstances" make permanent separation of a child from the birth family the "best option" for the safety and well-being of the child.

One of the main components of ASFA is the imposition of stricter time limits on "reunification efforts."

Proponents of ASFA claimed that before the law was passed, the lack of this legislation was the reason it was common for children to be weakened in care for years with no permanent living situation identified. The children were often moved from placement to placement with no real plan for a permanent home.

Opponents of ASFA argued that the real reason children were weakened in foster care was that too many were "taken needlessly from their parents in the first place." Since ASFA did not address this, opponents said, it would not accomplish its goals, and would only delay a decline in the foster care population that should have occurred anyway "because of no reports on child abuse."

Ten years after ASFA became law, the reported number of children in foster care on any given day is ONLY about 7,000 fewer than when ASFA was passed. Children continue to be vulnerable and weakend in care, and to be moved from place to place.

Paulette Brown, an in home care provider a single mom of two daughters, (lost a son to violence in 2006) is desperately seeking justice against the inhumane treatments that the foster care system has/is subjecting towards children who are taken away, particularly one of its primary affiliates being the Child Protective Services agency.(C.P.S)

Paulette appeared at POOR Magazine’s very first POOR Community Newsroom, on February 3rd since its forced relocation/gentrified move from the S.F Grant Building, in December of 2008. Unfortunately, inhumane treatments, tortures, rapes, abuses, etc, etc are not uncommon to us.

Paulette's niece, while she was still an infant, has been tortured, tormented, and traumatized into the fostercare system until her release into her aunt's custody, at three years old. Paulette's half-sister's drug use was the motivation for her niece to be taken by the fostercare system. However, their job was not to traumatize her.......... by failing to protect her.

More and more children aren't treated much differently than the children forced into illegal sex slave operations that law enforcements soundly swears to shut down, and the "terrorist detainees" held in the prisons of U.S Guatanomo Bay. Like so, President Obama has recently ordered the closing of Guatanomo Bay, but not before these detainess will have extreme difficulty adjusting to life, as a result of "interrogation techniques" given to them during their imprisonments.

Such stories of the fostercare system and C.P.S have motivated "Tiny" Lisa Gray-Garcia, and her mom, co-founder, the late great "Mama" Dee Gray to establish the CourtWatch division of POOR from the very beginning of POOR. The late great "Mama" Dee Gray, herself, was tortured for many years in the fostercare system.

On February 9th, 2009 there were several issues that were raised on the radio broadcast, 89.1 KPOO before Miss Brown was interviewed, such as the D.T.V transition (Digital Television transition was delayed until June 12th, by the urging of new U.S President Barack Obama to Congress.) and the ongoing "budget crisis" that continues to infest the lives of poor working families, and people in poverty, today.

Paulette’s purpose was to inform the world of the treatments that her niece had experienced (from the time she was an infant until three), and the hassles from San Francisco city agencies of the fostercare system she's been corruptively channeled through, for every action she took to prevent these acts from continuing.

It was reported on 89.1 KPOO that more hassles will increase with the San Francisco Department of Social Services, and other S.F city agencies due to the" budget crisis" here in the State of California. When I listened, I asked my own self, "Does it really take more or less money and/or an economic stimulus package for an overseer and or a governmental authority official to take these ongoing complaints more seriously?"

Exactly who is going to provide a "Bailout Plan" to innocent children who are faultlessly funneled into the fostercare system, into a world existing of disgusting, sickening, and inhumane treatments from foster parents, resulting in children growing up having difficulty adjusting to life? Are children going to continue being subjected to the fostercare sytem as political prostitutes?

"They never wrote a report, they just gave her back to me with all the issues she has had to deal with. I’m supposed to be the mother, the father, the police officer, the therapist, lawyer, and I can’t do it all." Paulette explained.

"They need to go ahead and report this child abuse, but they are passing the buck onto me and telling ME to report it when she’s a ward of court. She’s still under the foster care system. THEY are supposed to protect her, THEY are supposed to report this, not me."

Paulette has presented numerous reports and complaints to her niece’s therapist, her social worker, and her attorney regarding the wicked treatments her niece was receiving, while she was in the fostercare system. Her niece has given them letters telling them what happened to her, but no action has been taken.

Paulette presented her concerns of the aftermath mental well-being of her niece. "Here I am dealing with all these issues that she is having. She's doing more things now, than when she left me, like fighting with people, depression, and self-medication. I need help and the fostercare system is not helping."

Though Paulette presented, and voiced her concerns, only one can ponder the thought of how can the fostercare system help when they're practically contributing to the problem from its inability of intervention(s) from prevention(s) by not even reporting it?

Paulette's niece has been in three fostercare homes, one where she was molested, the other where she was raped, and the other where she was physically and verbally abused. In 1996 when her niece was three, she stayed with her foster mother who's son stayed there as well..............while he was on parole for rape! Upon learning this, Paulette acted quickly to have her niece removed from that household.

(Placing children into fostercare homes where the parents have a criminal history is, or the parent is not given a background check, is not uncommon. It as if they are thrown into a jail cell with a dangerous inmate.)

After an estimated wait time of one year, her niece was finally given to her. She then took her niece to San Francisco General Hospital to be examined. When her niece was examined, it was revealed that her niece's vaginal area was severely penetrated.

When Paulette asked the doctors what was wrong with her vaginal area, she was told by by two doctors that her niece was raped. Her area was bleeding alot.

Paulette confronted the foster mother regarding this, and the foster mother responded "Oh that's just a rash." Paulette knew this was a lie, given the fact that she has two children of her own, and knows what a real rash lookes like. A second incident occurred when Paulette visited her niece and changed her diaper, only to discover that her vaginal area was bleeding out of control.

After Paulette expressed her outrage of this horrible act being done to her niece, the foster mother stopped Paulette from having any more visits.

In 2001, Paulette's niece was violently attacked by her own therapist when she was at the Edgewood Center for Families and Children. A civil action was filed by Paulette, where she prevailed on the action with a settlement. Then-San Francisco City Attorney Robert Evans informed a San Francisco judge that the S.F Department of Social Services neglected Paulette's niece's needs.

Paulette called the ombudsman of San Francisco to fire the therapist, the social worker, and the attorney of her niece, James Donnelly, due to the fact that they wasn't doing their jobs. However, Paulette explained during her radio broadcast interview that NO action was really taken by the ombudsman.

At one point, there was a critical service called Family Mosaic, that was threatened to be cut. Paulette relentlessly fought to prevent this service from being cut, especially since she was already having the world on her shoulders, and cutting a vital service for her niece was just doing WAY too much. Fortunately, this service remained intact.

There was some discussion during the radio broadcast that current S.F Mayor Gavin Newsom hires people at the S.F Department of Social Services, which means that complaints of these abuses fall directly under his jurisdiction.

On numerous occassions, Paulette has appealed and urged Newsom to launch an investigation into these incidents. Unfortunately, she has received the same hassles, runarounds, and disconcerns his aides have given her, just like the fostercare system.

Paulette was saddened by this attitude and inaction by Newsom, given the fact that she supported him during his first 2003 mayoral run against his opponent, Matt Gonzalez, whom he successfully defeated. She even has a huge picture portrait of him featured with her and her children after his victory, as the new S.F Mayor.

Before Newsom, Paulette appealed to former S.F Mayor, Willie Brown and his aides for help, but recieved the same treatments.

"I supported him and I just wanted him (Newsom) to look into these incidents of children being abused in the fostercare system." Paulette said, softly and sadly. She's also appealed to the S.F Board of Supervisors, and other prominent city officals to put an end to the violence in the communities of color, following the death of her son who was killed on August 14th, 2006. His killers are yet to be caught, or even sought.

Just three years ago, Paulette's niece was sexually molested by staff members of the Boys and Girl's Club.

Despite the disregard of documents that validate all of Paulette's complaints, the lack of interventions by oversight agenicies, refusals of representations from disconcerned lawyers due to intimidations, the overwhelming fear of retaliation from parents (especially ones previously involved with the penal system),and the financial security jeapordization of their jobs; Paulette continues to organize her efforts to bring awareness and a movement against the savagery of the fostercare system.

"You're doing too much" are the discouraging remarks Paulette's received. She's been asked why is she fighting so hard. "She's my niece, I love her and we have the same blood, so don't ASK me why I am fighting so hard!" Paulette's fiery response to such a foolish question.

Paulette is currently her niece's relative care giver, where she only has partial custody, since her niece is still a ward of court. Paulette has been denied adoption of her niece due to her niece needing "more therapy" which is alleged by the Department of Human Services. Paulette contends that it is a lame excuse to conceal the possibilty of their retaliation towards her for exposing their corruption.

Paulette swears that her niece has never even gotten effective therapy services for her niece's needs. Every time Paulette tried to place her niece in a therapy service that could've effectively treated her niece's needs, she was always removed from that service by the S.F Department of Human Services.

Nine months before Paulette received partial custody of her niece, she was informed by her niece that her foster parents were physicallly and verbally abusing her. Her niece was choked, beaten, and had her glasses broken. Paulette reported these incidents to the social worker, the therapist, and the lawyer, but just like the other times, these three did nothing to stop it.

Her niece was so frightend that she slept at night with a razor blade her side.

On December 21st, 2008, her niece was violently choked, and dragged down the stairs. The mother did the dragging, while the father watched. This was the absolute final straw for Paulette. On December 22nd, 2008, Paulette's niece was partially placed back into her custody by the court.

Unfortunately, her niece was not out of the woods. Her niece's social worker of approximately seven years, Aunca Bujes, breached confidentiality by revealing to the foster parents that Paulette had reported the abuse. Both Paulette and her niece immediately started receiving threats as a result. Her niece received so many of them on her cell phone, that Paulette had to change her number.

"They put her in the same room WITH THE ABUSERS, asking her what happend. You don't put a CHILD in the SAME room with the abusers and try to get information out of that child. She is not going to tell you any and everything!" What they told Paulette was that her niece only said that "they grabbed just her arm." There was more to it than that, but they have not made a report."

Before the murder of her seventeen year old son on August 14th, 2006, Paulette was even been threatend by C.P.S regarding her OWN two children, in addition with her niece; should she continue with her fight against the fostercare system.

"It'll be a cold day in HELL before I let that happen!" Paulette responded, furiously.

Paulette Brown is seeking the help of other parents who've had similar experiences like she's had with the fostercare system to organize a massive movement to hold it accountable for its lack of interventions and its failures to protect children. She can be reached by her email: serina1994@aol.com

Like Paulette, every parent and sympathizer must organize to hold the entire fostercare system accountable for its lack of prevention to protect the lives of children.

To C.P.S (Child Profit Service) your kids will soon become their kids and somebody else's kids too.

And once they get your kids in their hands and out of yours

They meaning C.P.S and the court system will make it hard for you to get them back anytime soon.

When C.P.S (Child Profit Service) need money they have their own therapist at the family service agency 1010 gough.

That they use to help kidnap the children through lies that they coach the child to tell on their parents. ...
Excerpt from the poem, "When Child Profit Service come to your house" written by POOR Press author, poverty scholar, and poet, Byron Gafford.

by Chloe Auletta-Young/PNN

On February 5th, 2009, I approached the State Capital in Sacramento for the first time in my life. I find it fitting that my reason was to witness a protest at its doorstep, California Native Americans uniting to charge certain tribal leaders with corruption, and to urge congress for more oversight and regulation. As the crowd trickled onto the north-side grounds of the building, those associated with the press started to make themselves known. As this was my first time working under this designation, I momentarily stepped into voyeurism to see how the others operated. At one point, a man obviously affiliated with some variation of corporate media stepped onto the scene with his large camera equipment and loudly asserted, “I need to get a statement from someone here, I don’t really care who,” only to get his brief interview and then promptly leave without gaining perspective on any of the happenings. I decided this was not the approach I wanted to take, so I went about my own way of piecing together the context for the event.

The crime is the unjustified disenrollment of Native Americans from their traditional tribe, not only stripping them of their ancestral right to belong, but also the educational, medical, and financial support provided by their governments. The root cause is an alarmingly inequitable distribution of casino earnings, triggering immense poverty on certain reservations, while others reap the benefits of an industry with annual revenue in the billions. “Reservations are essentially third-world countries here in the US, some operating with no running water, electricity, or stable education system,” said Quanah Brightman, Vice President of United Native Americans Inc., the hosts of the protest. He asks a very fair question, “Where is all the money going?”

The contention is that it is going to small clusters of families in league with these corrupt officials, a mob-like favoritism that is robbing the majority of their basic human rights. When tribe members speak out, they, and often their entire family, are disenrolled, denied their home, their lineage, and their voice. Coming from a culturally white family, with little to no connection with my heritage, I tried to imagine what this must feel like. All I could think of was my mom. My mother is my safety, my comfort; she is weaved into my structure, threaded through every nucleus of every cell. She an integral component of who I am as a woman, a being. If someone somehow denied that, told me that it was not true, that it has all been a lie, that my core, my community had been ripped away from me, I would deflate. I would implode. I would fight. I would challenge the notion with all the power I could muster from the tips of my toes to the top of my head to the head of the state.

Certain governments are operating under zero accountability for these rights infringements imposed upon constituents residing under their “jurisdiction”, while the US government claims a hands-off policy given the sovereignty terms dictated by the formation of the collective American Indian Tribes. However, congress can limit Native American Sovereignty with good reason; they can enforce civil rights upon violation. As one speaker so aptly put it, “we were born on American soil. We are citizens; we deserve all of the same protection under the law.” It is this protection and regulation that was called for during the protest, and the hope is that the State Government will wake up and take a more active role in attempting to understand the situation. “California is the guinea pig [for this battle],” said Albert Alto, a disenrolled San Pasqual member from the reservation near Riverside, “how this goes is going to effect the movement throughout the nation. All eyes are on California right now.”

However, it was the personal stories resounding throughout the State Capital that made this protest so powerful. Teary-eyed Carla Foreman Maslin spoke about her father, Bob Foreman, and how he fought for his tribe’s right to healthcare, only to be disenrolled before his death without ever seeing justice. Consuela Vargas told her story about her own disenrollment, and how after speaking out during trial the file department claimed that her records had been lost for good. Wounded Knee, a revered elder, spoke about participating in the historical longest walk and the gaming movement as it developed, ending his speech with the proclamation that you only lose when you give up, that he has never given up.

I walked away from the State Capital much differently than I had approached it. The excitement had turned into a distant admiration but as I slowly allowed myself to be taken with the sentiment I had begun to feel closer. I internalized the voices until I could match them with my own emotions. I called my mom. I felt the stamina, the action. Speakers urged the audience to remain vocal and visible, not to become disillusioned. So yeah corporate media man, I guess it didn’t matter who you interviewed, because everyone present on February 5th had a story to tell, has a story to tell, an amalgamation of narratives combining to create a single statement, we will keep fighting, fighting the battle to win back their birthright of living peacefully with their sacred heritage, without fear of losing their liberties or being denied their basic civil rights.

Further information on this complex issue can be found on the following websites and blogs:

Orginal Pechanga Blogspot
United Native Americans, Inc.
EldoradoIndian.org
ShingleSpringsReservation.org
Airro.org

by JewnBug, Media facilitator: Wendy Fong

Today is a new day. Poor skies lead to rainy days, but poor skies say goodbye lead to better days sometime. better days sometime in the neighborhood welfareQueen in tha house! PoMama, poverty scholar gonna break it down how indigenous families mutated to inter-dependency in this blood stained land of America how the childcare system needed funding instead built prisons destroying our families but with thumbs up votes to Obama's economic plan there will be increased money for 2009 no more rainy days for now…

I had the privilege to facilitate this column interview with Jewnbug, co-founder of the F.A.M.I.L.Y. Project, founder and executive director of A.R.T. (Artistikal Revolutionary Teaching), Parent Voices (grassroots, state-wide with 18 chapters in California), a Po'Poet, poverty scholar, welfareQueen, POOR Press author, and PoMama columnist, about child care in California. Her voice was vibrant and fierce, a womyn beating to a thousand of her own drums. I was eager to hear about the good news and future plans in childcare.

When President Obama signed the Economic Recovery and Investment Act for 2009, it granted $2 billion for federal childcare funding. For the past 7-8 years the federal government has not increased funding for the Child Care and Development Block Grant (CCDBG), a program designed to support families by increasing quality, availability, and affordability for childcare. This has been the largest increase in federal aid since Washington began to spend money on education after World War II. California is populated with the most children compared to all fifty states. From this act, the state will get approximately 12 percent of the $2 billion funding. When broken down, about 75% will go towards certificates or vouchers, allowing more availability for children and parents to selectively access childcare, 4% towards improving quality care such as teacher training, and 21% towards licensing. The plan will also increase funding for the Headstart Program over the next two years, which is the largest federal source for childcare funding for children under five years old.

Today over 200,000 children are waiting for childcare on the Centralized Eligibility List with no guarantee of childcare. Yet, what are parents and children expected to do in the meantime? “Basically parents are getting penalized by not fulfilling their welfare requirements of finding a job and fulfilling a certain income bracket,” says Jewnbug. However, when the additional funding arrives, part of it will help alleviate waiting, helping families find jobs, and create new childcare jobs.

However, although this is good news, Jewnbug says she is also challenging the system from its foundation, asking how did childcare get so neglected in the first place? How did America suffer from such a deficit for infants, toddlers, and children? First, we have to re-examine the idea of family, the idea of childcare, and how the indigenous childcare model has changed to a corporate, interdependent model in America. Indigenous childcare was where everyone used to take care of their own children, everyone learned together “for the people by the people.” All ages learn together, playing together in a community of family and eldership across multiple generations.

In the United State, when a child reaches 6 months, or even 3 months old, the mother is expected to go back to work. “This is corporate child abuse,” says Jewnbug, “it promotes a separation of mother and child. Being a parent as a job is considered by Calworks as being below the poverty line. Why are parents not paid for taking care of their own children?” She references Dr. Wade Nobles, a tenured professor in Black Studies at San Francisco State University, who talks about how Western or Euro-centric ideology is centered on individuality, which promotes this separation by of parent and child. He states individuation argues that “you’ve got to break free from your family... that you have no independent agency because in their minds you are submitting to the thinking of or the feelings of or the ideas of these other individuals.” It is a political idea that is reinforced by capitalism, where it thrives on the exploitation of people to maximize profits.

How does our childcare system relate to the prison industrial complex? “It was a set up,” says Jewnbug, “Did you know that they project how many beds to build in prison based on the 3rd grade literacy?”

Jewnbug is also working on a few key things she hopes to see occur during the allocation of these funds. One key thing is that the governor doesn’t steal the money from the childcare funds. If the funds are not spent over the next two years, it will automatically roll over into the next fiscal year making it susceptible for the governor to grab it. Thus in order to prevent rollover funds, they are attempting to create child care vouchers or a Rainy Day Account, also known as reserve accounts to save funds during economic recession. Also that the state requires child care facilities to get inspected annually, compared to every five years as they do presently. Federal money will be increasing the CCDBG, which was funded for 8 years. That money needs to trickle down to 12%. That funding combined with the other funding can use childcare vouchers for private child cares-- anything of their choice.

by Malaika Parker/Justice Matters

The cold wet wind blew outside the West Contra Costa Unified School District (WCCUSD) Board hearing last Wednesday. The meeting was focused on the school closures proposed for Richmond, Pinole, El Cerrito and San Pablo.

As I sat in solidarity with hundreds of families, teachers and students from all over the (WCCUSD) district I was struck by the number of children, young children, pleading-crying that their communities not be torn apart. As I listened to story after story of what the closure of a community school would mean for families, I thought about my daughter. A beautiful vibrant preschooler who will soon enter the ranks of public elementary schools. I thought about what such a conversation would mean for her life.

For years the WCCUSD has been bitterly embattled in a monetary fight. This has resulted in a never-ending cry from students and families begging for schools to stay open in their communities.

As a community member, a mother, and a former
Student of WCCUSD caught in the midst of the constant threat of schools in this district, I wonder at what point will the financial failure of this district be dealt with in a proactive way so that we may move on to the conversation about what happens in the classroom of our schools. At what point does the conversation move from money, the fallacy that there is not enough in a country that spends trillions on war, bank rescue plans, and so many other
wasteful things, to what we are doing to ensure that the over 50% school pushout (of students from school) rate can be addressed. When will it be time to address the fact that we are failing our students. The fact that hundreds of thousands of Black
and Brown students who deserve an education that prepares them to live out their full potential are instead being pushed out of schools directly into prisons.

After an extremely heated meeting filled with the voices of teachers, advocates, students and families, many of whom, are parent leaders with the Real Schools Now Campaign of Justice Matters, which works on policy and action to achieve a racially just classroom for students and families of color, The city of Richmond, and Pinole stepped in to save schools in their respective cities, with other cities expected to follow.

This action by Cities in WCCUSD will spare many young
people from being shipped off to schools completely disconnected from the strong heritage and belonging of their communities, families will be spared the burden of paying an increased cost for transportation to and from school in these hard economic times.

Finally, It is not acceptable for a district to engage in a constant deficit approach to operating schools, our children deserve abundance!. A district without the wherewithal to balance a budget and keep schools open, is sending a message to all of us families that have hoped for something better, that we have a long way to go.

Malaika Parker, mother of Imani, is the Campaign Cooridinator of Real Schools Now- a project of Justice Matters. To get more involved in the Real Schools Now Campaign call 510-860-3002 or go on-line to www.justicematters.org

by Chloe Auletta-Young/Race, Poverty Media Justice Institute Intern at POOR Magazine

They used to tell me/I was building a dream/ And so I followed the mob/ When there was earth to plow/ Or guns to bear/ I was always there/ Right on the job.

“Given the subject matter of the exhibition, we have waived the entrance fee,” said the admissions attendant at the California Historical Society in San Francisco. My friend, and POOR Staff Writer, migrant and poverty scholar, Muteado, and I looked at one another and smiled. We had just spent a good ten minutes complaining about the inaccessibility of “advocacy” art events, the hypocrisy of it all, the high price of entrance, the brie and cabernet passed around in front of emaciated portraits of African children. I applaud “From Hobos to Street People” for making it free to the public, and for much more.
The space is big and light, would-be conservative if it weren’t for the art on the walls, the reality in the air. The messages surrounded me and everywhere I turned, in every nook and cranny, I couldn’t escape the significance. This is not an exhibit you critique, you do not remark on the arrangement or the paint color. You learn, you listen, and you walk away with the knowledge that this is truth you cannot ignore. I’m glad there is some sense of catering to the uppity ups of society, because they will come in, and they will be told, and they will know, never will they be able to say that they don’t.

by Por Teresa Molina/Voces de Inmigrantes en resistencia/PNN

For English Scroll Down:

“Janet Napolitano, basta el apoyo al razista sheriff Joe Arpaio.” Sherriff Joe Arpaio del condado Maricopa, Arizona, marcho 200 inmigrantes encadenados de un centro de detencion hasta el desierto, adonde los espera una pueblo de campana rodeada por alambre electrico adonde no les daran atencion medica y los trabajaran como esclavos. No mas leer esto nos debe entrar mucho temor, hasta escalo frio. Estamos en el ciglo 21 y todavia pueden tratar a seres humanos como los trataban en anos de esclavitud? Estas persona, Sheriff Joe Arpaio, y sus aliados, si se les puede llamar personas, no tienen Corazon. Son como unos desalmados sin entranas. Yo me pregunto, “Quien es mas culpable? El que hace esta crueldad? O, el que permite que estas crueldades les pasen a otros seres humanos?”

Janet Napolitano, la Jefa de Homeland Security-Seguridad de La Patria, permite que estos abusos pasen por que el departamento de Homeland Security consideran los inmigrantes indocumentados como terroristas. Yo soy Teresa, reportera de Prensa Pobre, Mujer inmigrante, Madre de 5 hijos, y activista para cambio en mi comunidad. Yo ni sabia que nos consideraban terroristas. Para mi, un terrorista es alguien que ataka otro pais… alguien que pone bombas, o hecha gas venenoso en la atmosfera. Pero, yo, ahorra soy considerada terrorista? Esto es una porqueria! Yo trabajo por menos del sueldo minimo, pago impuestos a este gobierno razista que me considera terrorista, yo, y personas como yo, mi pueblo, mi comunidad, hacemos este pais mas ricos. Es como llamar a los esclavos de un pais los terroristas. Que basura!

Antes de que este sheriff Joe Arpaio, mostraba su poder y crueldad contra terroristas, se lo hacia a gente pobre, sin hogar. Desde 1999, el sheriff Joe Arpaio a penalizado delitos menores con el encarcelamiento en la prision, con el proposito de empezar un programa adonde pondria a los encarcelados en cadenas, Chain Gangs- como le llaman en ingles, a trabajar como esclavos por 10 horas al dia en el desierto de Arizona adonde la temperatura sube hasta 120 grados. Que crueldad! Ni animales merecen o aguantan esta tortura. Como es permitido que un hombre tan loco, cruel, razista, clasista, sin Corazon ni sentimientos le den una responsibilidad como decidir como el condado de Maricopa castiga a los presos? Como permitimos esto? En este pais adonde les ensenan a nuestros ninos historias de libertad, igualdad, y justicia Americana. Esto no es justicia, esto no es libertad, esto no es igualdad. El sheriff Joe Arpaio representa todo lo contrario de lo que es ser Americano. Si alguien merece ser considerado terrorista, es el sheriff Joe Arpaio.

“Tiny” Lisa Gray Garcia comenta sobre la importancia de luchar contra los razistas locos en poder que usan su poder para mal: “La policia y los sheriffs siempre hacen pruebas de sus tacticas fascistas de tortura en personas de color, inmigrantes, y gente pobre. Por eso es muy importante luchar contra estos terroristas desde el empiezo, para que sus ideas, razismo, y tacticas de tortura no crezcan, ni se contagian.” POOR Magazine a estado en una lucha contra el sheriff Joe Arpaio desde que el empezo haciendo estas atrocedades contra los pobres en 1999.

Engles Sigue

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

“Janet Napolitano, Stop supporting the racist sheriff Joe Arpaio!” Sherriff Joe Arpaio from Maricopa county, Arizona, made 200 shackled immigrants march from a detention center in the city all the way out to a tent prison surrounded by electric barbwire in the desert. Here, they are being treated like animals, working on a chain gang up to ten hours a day and are generally denied basic medical needs. Just reading this should make us afraid, even shiver. We are in the 21st century and racists can still legally treat other human beings worst than animals? These people, Sheriff Joe Arpaio and his cronies, are not humans, they have no hearts. They are like evil zombies walking around without souls. I ask myself, “Who is more to blame? He who commits this cruelty or the people that let these atrocities be committed against other human beings?”

Janet Napolitano, the Head of Homeland Security, permits this abusive action to happen because according to the department of Homeland Security, “illegal immigrants” are considered terrorists. I am Teresa, reportera for POOR Magazine, migrant mother of five children, and activist for change in my community. I was unaware that I am considered a terrorist. For me, a terrorist is someone who attacks another country… someone who bombs busy city buses, or unleashes deadly gas into the atmosphere, but now I am considered a terrorist? This is bull$#!+! I work for less than the minimum wage, I pay taxes to this racist government that calls me a terrorist. My labor and the labor of those in my community, make this country rich… off of our cheap labor. Calling undocumented immigrants terrorists is like calling slaves terrorists. Ridiculous!

Before this sheriff Joe Arpaio demonstrated his “power and strength” by committing cruel acts against us immigrants--pardon me “terrorists”--he would bully poor folks, homeless people, and anyone he could. Since 1999, sheriff Joe Arpaio has penalized misdemeanors with felony prison time, with the intention of putting these people incarcerated for crimes of poverty into chain gangs, to work like slaves for up to ten hours at a time in the Arizona desert where the temperature rises up to 120 degrees. This is cruelty. Animals don’t even deserve to be tortured this way. How is it that this racist, crazy, classist, heartless, @$$hole is responsible for deciding how the county of Maricopa punishes those persons encarcerated? How do we permit this? In this country where we teach our kids an American history of liberty, equality, and justice. This is not justice, nor liberty, nor equality. Sheriff Joe Arpaio represents the exact opposite of the American ideals this country is found upon. If someone deserves to be called a terrorist, it is sheriff Joe Arpaio.

“Tiny” aka Lisa Gray-Garcia comments on the importance of fighting racism and evil men in power: “The Po-Lice and sheriffs always test out their fascist tactics of torture on people of color, migrants, and poor folks. That is why it is very important to fight against these injustices from the start, so that their racist ideas and fascist torture tactics don’t spread.” POOR Magazine has been fighting sheriff Joe Arpaio since he first came on the scene perpetuating crimes against poor folks in 1999.

by Wendy M. Fong/Race, Poverty, Media Justice Intern

White smoke rises to the metal ceiling like lost ghosts from their
cement graves, the cleansing smell of burning sage, dancing to the
beat of three drums. Echo, echo, echo. It vibrates, calling the
ancestors in Re-union. I scanned a 180 around the shadowy, wide,
square room. I heard my heart beating with the heart beats of other
Xicanos/as from every generation as they filled the room-- elders,
teenagers, adults, children-- bowing their heads, raising their hands,
and absorbing the spirits of mother earth. Echo, echo, echo. My brown
eyes slowly began to swell with tears. This was a ceremony of apology
to the lands, as people of all ages danced in sync and rhythm. An
apology of lands stolen, it was an intoxication of the elements,
flowing like waterfalls flooding the room with lost stories.

I am Chinese-American and have never experienced this before, taking
my first baby steps into the history of California. I was born and
raised in California and was not aware of how deep the culture was
rooted here. I began to think about stories my mother and father used
to tell me when I was younger. I come from a family of migrants. My
grandparents migrated from China to Burma during WW2 for survival, as
the Japanese invaded their land. I remember my father telling me how
my grandparents and his two brothers swam across the river as they ran
away from raining bullets and the Japanese. They were not immigrants,
who have the luxury of moving from land to land, but migrants chased
out of their native homes in hopes to live and have a better life.

Echo, echo, echo, they were dressed in the rainbow colors of mother
earth-- blue feathers, brown leather, red clay-- they danced to the
beats and the souls of the Rasa ancestors that once lived on this
land, Xicanos/as joined together in Re-union. Not only was there
Re-membrance, but there was celebration, celebrating their history and
the unity in their struggle. Delicious aromas of pollo taquitos,
Spanish rice, crisp vegetables, constant spoken word flows, laughter
and vibrating instruments filled the room in honor. Live Californian
history lessons unveiled before me like tulips opening to the warm
rays of the sun, hungry for more. "Mother, father, I whispered, "Tell
me more of your stories of China and Burma." I was curious to know
more about the heritage, the history, like those of my ancestors.

"Do you eat food from the Bay?" Jose Luis, an educator and activist,
asks at the "Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo Xicana Reunion" event at the
East Side Arts Alliance in Oakland, CA. It was an "education concert"
that took place on Saturday, February 7, 2009 at four o' clock in the
evening.

As Luis continues, he explains that contrary to general knowledge, for
hundreds of thousands of years; indigenous peoples sustained
themselves from the Bay and all its resources. The Spanish enslaved
the native peoples on plantains. They were military generals by the
names of Santa Cruz, San Jose, San Rafael, and San Francisco, to name
a few. The rich Spanish families like Castro and Valencia were offered
power by the U.S. in exchange for land. Even the famous General Santa
Ana purposely did not send enough troops to defend the land during the
Alamo of Texas to keep this exchange. In 1848, the U.S. government
violently occupied North Mexico, also known today as Sonoma County,
and they signed the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, turning over the land
to the U.S.

The treaty states that there shall be guaranteed citizenship in both
U.S. and Mexico, the freedom to move across borders between California
and Mexico, the retention of Spanish language and culture, and land
grants given to families that held land under their control.

But the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was soon to be broken: The land
was stolen. The land grants were disregarded. During the Gold Rush,
only Anglo Saxons were allowed to mine for gold, and people who lived
there for centuries were denied access to their own lands. "The 49ers
(aka gold miners) discriminated against them. It is like calling a
football team the KKK or the Nazis," says Luis.

by Marlon Crump/PNN

"I'm scared, I don't know what else to do, or who to talk to!"

"Why me, what have I done? What do these people want from ME?!"

"Can somebody do something about this?!"

"All of this because I submitted a piece of paper, in telling the truth of what's been going on?!"

"When will it stop? My body is in so much unexplainable pain........ALL BECAUSE I SPOKE OUT!"

Before 2008 ended, I wrote a story called "Digital Apartheid" which presented a detailed summary of the impact that the D.T.V (Digital Television) transition would have on people particularly in poverty, seniors, and people with disabilities now that U.S Congress were forcing everyone to watch their television sets by the means of digital broadcast after purchasing a digital converter box. (Which is similar to a cable television box.)

I started off the story, stating that "Technology has arrived to a new age: The Age of D.T.V. I also stated in "Digital Apartheid" that "the digital divide and conquest is literally just around the corner."

Unfortunately, I have to start this particular story off by stating that technology has arrived to another age in an era of terror, through the voices of its victims: The Age of Technology Terror!

And this has apparently been happening for quite sometime, by person or persons, unknown.

The above outcries and pleas are from victims who've experienced multiple harassments/stalkers and unexplained physical technological trauma as a result. Shockingly, these problems are seemingly invisible to doctors, law enforcement officials and members of the public.

These victim's voices are seldom taken seriously due to the ignorance, disbelieving, scrutiny, and even ridicule resulting from such acts actually taking place, leading many governmental authorities and their counterparts to conclude that such mysterious acts are "absurd" or "preposterous."

(Much to the delight of those responsible, as denial, ignorance, and disinterest are their greatest covert cover from exposure.)

Through my own extensive research, credited to an anonymous source who wishes to raise universal awareness about this terrifying, untold issue in media by sharing her own ongoing experience, I've discovered that this technological terror is not a myth, a lie, a fairy tale, or a script from a modern day science fiction movie. It is very real............

And it is called Electronic Harassment via Organized Stalking!

Imagine the terrifying thought of your own body organs burning, the breaches of unseen rays to your human nervous system disrupted for no explained reason(s), leading to dirahea, chronic fatigue, and other mysterious life-threatening symptoms as a result for either speaking out against a certain injustice, making someone very angry, or just simply being yourself.

Even worse, just imagine experiencing such bizarre incidents, yet no one is willing to believe you and they immediately conclude that you're crazy. This falls alongside of the "Why are they targeting me?" and "Why no one will listen to me?" question............ bearing little or no answer.

Just think of people purposely playing their television or stereo a little too loud, constant phone calls just to annoy someone they despise, disrupting a person's human nervous system, preventing them from functioning properly. An old trick to attack someone in the jungle is drumbeating: an old fashioned tactic used to confuse and intimidate the enemy, to throw them off their concentration.

by Staff Writer

SYSTEMBITCH (Old school rap) by Laure McElroy aka The System Bitch

My job dropped a dime to my worker
so my foodstamps got cut
we ate that month
didn't pay no rent
now we're kicked out on our butts
Now this joint's gone global
but only if you're rich
I'm caught on a catch
and scrilla's the scratch
this broke-ass birth can't itch
SYSTEMBITCH

I go no money!
What am I gonna do??!

Moved into my sister's
thought we'd save a dollar
her crackhead man went golden gloves
he beat her and she hollered
CPS said "bitch - the home you in ain't safe...
Move out or we'll jack those brats
They'll be wards of the state."
SYSTEMBITCH

I'm on the street again
They took my babies

Sinkin' fast, subprime disaster
the state is broke
our republican masters
tax the poor
too feed the rich
y'all think it's a joke / til you're the next
SYSTEMBITCH

SYSTEMBEEYOTCH!

Your Social Worker

By Vivian Hain aka The Social Worker (and welfareQUEEN)

2009
Welfare Reform? Hellfare Deform… Now time to conform!

Cuz’ I’m your social worker, your poverty pimp

Gatekeeper, grim reaper, employment specialist

Helligibility worker, case manager, cuz’ you are my bitch!

Want me to pay you?, no I’m gonna’ play you

So walk thru’, talk to, what the fuck do you want, you?

Broke down mama, your trauma, dramarama,

Of hoppin’ n’ poppin’ not stoppin’, n’ droppin’ n’ boppin’

with who you do to, the muthafuckas’ you screw

Makin’ n’ bakin’ a bunch of daddy-less kids again n’ again?

While stayin’ n playin’ with punk ass bull-shittin’ men?

But you keep me employed, yeeah, I’m getting fat bank roll,

though it makes me annoyed

But why should I care?, you ain’t gonna’ sit back,

In my plastic chair, bitch pull up your bootstraps

Broke down, spoke down, you want me to throw down?

Think your pathetic existence, managing on a subsistence?

Is a free meal ticket for you to get cash-aid assistance?

For welfare, hellfare, fill out that stack of forms there

The same o’, blame those, it’s all in the game so,

Ya’ say you’ve been used, abused, n’ feeling confused?

Now you want me to approve you?, I’d rather remove you

Outta’ that chair, as you sit there and stare

I deeply despise you, but do realize too

That superbabymama, I also do love you

For getting me paid for the mistakes that you’ve made

As you sit there before me beg, lie n’ cry-

Cuz’ I’m the determinator, perpetrator, terminator

Of who is undeserving and deserving of aid.

by Bruce Allison/PNN

To the general public May 19th may not mean anything--but our governor pulled a fast one on us. Houseless parents, Medi-Cal, Food Stamp administration, IHSS, CalWORKS, CAPI and general low income families have a deduction in their aid. Prop 1D which goes to the ballot May 19, will be re-directing a large amount of funds away from DCYF (Department of Children, Youth & Families) and will cut medi-cal payments for these people in need. That means children with autism and other mental illnesses such as muscular dystrophy will lose the support they need. It wasn't the fault of these children that their parents were born in poverty and there is no reason why they should suffer for it. There are plenty of places that can be cut instead--prison guard salaries for example. I know this is a sacred cow but it should be looked into. Half the prisoners in jail over the age of 60 should be released to save the government a couple million dollars.

All the times this poverty scholar has worked on proposition 63 (Mental Health Services Act)--including going door to door collecting signatures--wasn't because I liked getting doors slammed in my face. It's about time these millionaires pay their fair share. Prop 1E will cause a ripple effect in time, because these youths under 21 will end up being incarcerated due to the lack of adequate mental care.

Presently the has decided that they will support prop 1A because the overflow in the budget will go towards K-12 education. However, there will not be an overflow because of the huge deficit in this state. Any member who reads this in the Los Angeles area, if you are taking money away from children in Calworks how do you expect them to learn on an empty stomach. This legislation isn't helping anybody, you pay higher medical bills in hospitals and these children can't attend school because they will be too hungry. They will be wandering the steets causing a burden to society.

All voters, please get out on March 19, the assembly has fallen for the Governor's hypnotic trance. After a minority of millionaires held up the budget for a period to bankrupt the state, they still scream that taxes are too high on them. When those three republicans broke ranks to settle the budget after two long days in the torture chamber known as the assembly, they finally agreed on a budget. Some of those people who got I.O.U's from the budget will not get their money back plus interest as they were promised. This part of the budget I will give on further articles, it does not retain too much interest to a normal person

Call your assemblyman if you are in a republican district and tell him he's an idiot.

by Staff Writer

Black HEart by The Black Kripple aka Leroy Moore

I’m the Black Kripple

Going through politicians’ wallets

To balance the budget

by Bruce Allison/PNN - Media Faclilitator Thornton Kimes/PNN

When Care Not Cash got started, a training program was begun at San Francisco General Hospital for Certified Nursing Assistants (CNA’s) and Licensed Vocational Nurses (LVN’’s).  This was to help CalWorks clients find a new career and jobs.  This time around, during the budget crunch, the CNA’s and LVN’s are being laid off as too expensive; both being replaced by administrators who may well have not beat feet on the hospital wards as actual nurses in years.

As a former CNA I can tell you this is not an easy job;  aside from the taking of pulse, respiration, blood pressure, temperature, and other tasks (like installing or changing catheter bags), dealing with people who are sometimes confused and angry about their situations is part of the work.  You either love it or you are in Job Hell.

If you like doing this, you become a better person and commit to making the job your career.  You become who you would like to see by your bedside when it’s your turn.  They are never paid their full worth. 

Mayor Gavin Newsome has taken CNA’s and LVN’s from S.F. General, plus the unit clerks who do clerical tasks and are unofficial nurses assisting the professionals and  social workers who direct homeless clients into respite housing until their illnesses and wounds get better or heal. 

Respite beds at Next Door  (Polk and Geary Streets), other shelters and SRO hotels, have been cut in half along with their staff.  A few days ago, this poverty scholar went to a rally for the nurses who have been laid off.   Patients and health care activist organizations gave testimony. 

A heart attack survivor who had been treated at the nationally known and respected S.F. General Trauma Unit (which has also been deeply affected by the cuts) said that he wouldn’t have survived his ordeal without the professionalism, loving care, and badly needed conversation, humor and laughter of the CNA’s and LVN’s;  a social worker from Child Protective Services (CPS) spoke about the children seen in the unit suffering from parental abuse (cigarette burns, stab wounds, and other horrors)—the experienced staff cheer the kids up and make separation from their parents less scary. 

Waiting time in S.F. General’s Emergency/Trauma waiting room, which is no picnic to begin with for any uninsured person waiting to be seen for anything, will increase by at least another 4 hours—as they sit in uncushioned uncomfortable chairs (possibly bought on sale or acquired from the lowest bidder—to put it nicely; designed by the Marquis de Sade if you want to be mildly mean about it).  The nurses stood in a circle at the Emergency Room entrance to say goodbye to their laid off comrads as the rally ended. 

From Bruce:
Dear Mayor:  your adversary, this Poverty Scholar so far left-wing he can’t make right turns, wants to know if you are getting this tired old ball of wax rolling again—setting up hopes for another “generation” of homeless mothers to be trained into medical jobs and careers (or the next career fad that comes along), only for them to be crushed and disappointed by the next cycle of economic doom and gloom invented by The People Who Brought You The Sub-Prime Mortgage Meltdown and their proteges?  You’re not getting my vote for Governor!  I have a lot of friends on Facebook and they feel the same way.

by Staff Writer

I am the welfareQUEEN
By Tiny aka The welfareQUEEN

I am the welfareQUEEN

Marginalized, criminalized, a bum at best

Your bitch

Got to beg you for money
have no right to privacy family secrets,
Underground work- Tell you all kind of personal stories bout struggle, survival, unbelieveble hurt I am used by you and you are used by the sys

I take your disrespect, act like I agree with it
Internalize your hate and hegemony and believe in it

Love you like I am you feel your disgust-

I am the welfareQUEEN
I am human, I am beautiful , I am a mama, I am
an artist, a philospher, caregiver, an advocate, I
navigate a complex welfaresystem and the non
profit industrial complex by any means necessary
i exist in a scarcity model that destroys people for asking for help-
I beg for child care, food stamps, housing subsidies and I do it good