The title explains it all.  When this poverty skolah was 13, I was hanging out at the Cliff House in San Francisco.  I loved the two steam-powered motorcycles mounted above the doors of the Sutro Baths. 

A shady man came up to me.  "Wouldja like $25 kid?"  Twenty-five dollars in the 60's is like $250 today.  "What do I have to do sir?" I asked.  "There will be a fire here later," he said, "all ya gotta do is hide somewhere and throw rocks at the firemen." 

I said no.  He went looking for another kid.  I went down to Playland at the beach to have a snack at The Hothouse, a Mexican restaurant.  As I was chomping on my tamale, I heard alarm bells and saw smoke.  I walked in that direction, thinking it was the Cliff House at first. I saw kids throwing rocks at firefighters from hiding places, including Seal Rocks. 

Cliff House and the Sutro Baths were built in the late 1800's.  Adolph Sutro, a millionaire, built them, along with Playland and a private railroad built along the cliffs going to the Presidio.  Sutro was also the first Jewish Mayor of San Francisco for a few years.  The Cliff House is like a cat, it has had seven lives so far, being refurbished for new generations of people to enjoy.   

His idea of an amusement park most likely inspired Walt Disney.  The Cliff House was a hotel then.  Tourists arrived on Sutro's train.  His mansion was surrounded by Playland.  The 1906 earthquake destroyed the mansion, which was abandoned.   

A suspended cable tram went back and forth between Seal Rocks and the Cliff House.  There used to be a penny arcade in the basement of the Cliff House (it has been moved), generations of children played with games 50 or 60 years older than them.  Older people visited the basement too, remembering when they were kids.  Thornton Kimes has been in that basement too. 

Inside Sutro Baths were the original costumes of "General Tom Thumb", a little-person performer for P.T. Barnum's Barnum & Bailey Circus.  Annie Oakley's supposed rifle was there too.  The baths were turned into an ice skating rink in the 1950's because people were afraid they would catch Polio from the pools. 

After the fire there was a proposal to build a five-story co-op housing (box) where the baths had been.  Because the Sutro Baths were registered as a landmark area, the project couldn't go forward.  The Federal Government turned it into a national park.   

What is left of the Sutro Baths is like dinosaur bones, like Roman ruins found near Hadrian's Wall.  Thornton Kimes and many others have walked in the ruins that look like a rat's maze.  This poverty skolah has a lump in his throat thinking about what used to be--Playland, the Baths, a place gentrifiers burned and failed to turn into money.   

This poverty skolah has more stories to tell about the San Francisco that used to be, before the current rush to gentrify finishes the rape that began so many years ago.

"Californians need to get real, " as the words shot out of  jerry Brown's mouth, my  body started to shake with fear from that real.  The "real" of a near empty  stomach, the "real" of  bitter cold cement and vinyl back seats of cars to sleep on when you have no home.  i had felt that real for so many years of childhood poverty, the kind of real our children will be feeling if Brown's proposed budget cuts to Medi-Cal, welfare and child care  are implemented.

The acts of budget genocide currently being proposed to the Cal-works and Medi-cal programs in California include reductions of 13% to the meager cash grants we barely receive now for working in-system,(there is no free money, us mamaz work for every penny we recieve) limiting the amount of medicine we and our children get per month and the worst genocide of all, cutting off our children entirely from cash grants within 48 months . These already stripped "aid" programs based on the myth of the budget cuts or as i call them, budget Crumbs, are crafted on the lie that there is plenty of money to fund illegal wars that kill, poison and traumatize children and adults across the globe, but never enough for poor families to survive, much-less thrive.

I wondered what was real that morning for Jerry Brown  as he departed his condominium without  fear he would come home to a rent increase, eviction papers  or a foreclosure notice, perhaps consuming a breakfast  purchased without worrying that the rising cost of food  would overdraw his bank account. And in the reality crafted by Jerry Brown, Schwarzenegger and so many other politricians before and after them. Us poor folks live in a scarcity model defined by people who have never had to go scarce.

As humans hearing about budget genocide we tend to go to an "I got mines" mentality, denying, accusing and blaming people for the need they have, pitting one need against another, ranking oppressions and/or feeling selfish about our "own" peoples needs. This process is all fueled and supported by mainstream media supported by corporations and corrupt politicians who would rather keep the business of hate and false scarcity going as long as it keeps us from focusing on the real "real"

The budget lies actually began hundreds of years ago with the theft of land and resources from indigenous peoples through paper trails, legislative theft, and adjudicated deceit, until we suddenly had nothing to even negotiate or trade with. In the 21st century reality working people honestly pay their taxes to support an amorphous system while being duped into this collective myth of budget scarcity. Paying into 3 trillion dollar defense budgets and corporate pay-offs, whether they agree with them or not and then being confused by a consistent declaration of deficit overrun.

Real budget justice models do exist in the US budgets created by community -wide participation such as the one created by multiple organizations in San Francisco known as The Peoples Budget- In Oakland led by Ella Baker Center and the city-wide budget organized by economic justice advocates in Chicago who collaborated with alderman who were also fed up with false government and established a truly people-led budget process that managed to evenly distribute tax resources to education, city services and social services for poor and working people and was actually used in city policy.

So as Gov Brown defines "real" as budget genocide which will have deadly consequences on our children and families let's follow the leads of our brothers and sisters in Wisconsin and Egypt and rise up to demand a different kind of  "real"  that feeds our children, employs our workers and fixes our roads, really!

To Listen to the voices of mothers and daddys in poverty speaking on the impact of these cuts click here to listen to PNN-Radio We-Search

To Watch the mamas and daddys on PNN-TV WeSearch click here

I haven't known you for very long, maybe a month. And I ve only met you twice. The first time was at newsroom. I remember being really proud of you for the work you were doing as a freelance writer. I saw you as a peer I guess because of your age and your homelessness. I guess I was feeling admiration really for you coming up out of poverty or struggling to succeed. I saw you as making headway and that made me feel hopeful. The weird thing is that after I met you the second time over at the Coalition On Homelessness, you had just gotten the job at the Guardian. You laughed and said " yeah, I'm their man on the street.... Literally" we both laughed. I 've been thinking about you alot since them, and especially during this last week. That s the really bizarre thing,. I've been watching and waitng, expecting to run into you.. So I ve been doing double takes at guys fitting your description, my age, weather beaten, back pack. Now Tiny tells me your dead. Well that just pisses me off!

It doesn't make much sense though since I hardly knew you. But none the less there it is. I'm really mad that you're not going to be around anymore. Ive been looking forward to getting to know you. The only resolve I have is that maybe you can hear me and know I still wnat to know you. I hope you'll come by and visit us over at POOR from time to time - give us some inspiration. I know that you were respected for your wrtiting and I can surely use all the help I can get. Please consider this a full fledge invitation. I didn't get to know you while you were down here on the earth plane. I hope that your spirit will feel free to infuse my thoughts and writings now that your over on the other side.

As I am remembering you I am hopeing that your spirt is traveling safely, now and always

Love, Anna Morrow
Poor News Network

POOR Magazine honors Al Robles, a poet and organizer who worked, taught and supported young and elder poets of color from all communities in the Bay Area and across the globe with the launching of The Al Robles Living Library Project and POOR Press Book Collection.

(San Francisco). POOR Magazine honors the late Al Robles with a gift of love for his work as a housing activist, poet, teacher, mentor, and historian.  His bringing together of communities was a gift he shared with POOR Magazine, of which he was an active board member. This historic library launch will feature the POOR Press 2011 Book collection which features artists of color in poverty from across the globe and the movie “Manilatown is in The Heart—time Travel with Al Robles”, a film by Curtis Choy.

Al Robles love and spirit and vision continue to guide POOR Magazine’s values of eldership and interdependence--leaving a living legacy of care giving and revolutionary media that gives voice to communities traditionally and intentionally silenced in media and academia.  “My Uncle Al’s legacy is the I-Hotel” said nephew and POOR Magazine co-editor Tony Robles.  “He inspired a generation of activists to fight for the rights of elders to decent housing, bringing attention to the injustice and tragedy of the International Hotel and bringing communities together in the fight for social justice”. 

Robles was instrumental in the rebuilding of Kearny Street’s International Hotel, home of Filipino and Chinese elders who were issued eviction notices to make way for a parking lot.  The “I-Hotel” captured the attention of the world with images of elders holding signs and chanting, “We won’t go!”  Robles narrated the film that captured the fight and eventual eviction entitled, “The Fall of the I-Hotel”.

In addition to the POOR Press collection, the Al Robles living library will feature a collection of books gathered over the years by Al Robles, as well as writings, photos, audio interviews and poetry that will be presented and preserved digitally.  The library will be a community space open to all who want to read and write, relax and learn about the legacy of Al Robles, which is the legacy of sharing stories, sharing voices and community building.  The library offer events such as readings, film screenings, writing workshops and feature artists and performers from throughout the community.

"Jane Kim is a park's champion and an advocate."
Words expressed by Phil Ginsburg on behalf, and support of newly-elected S.F. District 6 Supervisor Jane Kim. Ginsburg is the General Manager of Recreation and Park Department for the City and County of San Francisco, CA.

A community forum panel took place at the Bessie Carmichael Elementary School, on February 16th, 2011 in San Francisco's South of Market District. (SoMa) Myself, and my fellow POOR comrade, Muteado Silencio attended this community meeting. As a community ourselves who live in her district, we needed to be here. Who's talking about us, who's talking with us, and for us as a community motivates our routine re-porting and sup-porting.

No voices would be taboo..............even when we're heard.

Insight was needed by us as to what S.F. Supervisor Jane Kim plans were going to be for her constituents.

After an estimated five block travel through chilly winds, we arrived just in time to hear the forum panelists address everyone in attendance. The community members were diverse, primarily of multiple Asian ethnicities (among others) and cultures. The meeting was held in the school's cafeteria.

Community organizers involved for tonight's meeting were the United Playaz and SOMCAN. The forum panelists were San Francisco departmental head employees here for a dialogue discussion.

They were from the Department of Public Health, Board of Education, the Recreation and Park Department, the San Francisco Police Department's Southern Station, the  Redevelopment Agency, and the Department of Public Works. Angelica Cabande, organizing director for SOMCAN facilitated the discussion dialogue.

Issues raised were pedestrian, public safety, accessibility for the Gene Friend Recreational Center, and plans for Victoria Manalo Draves Park. (across the street from the school)  The transparency that took place were primary concerns of complaints regarding the park, and ongoing unsavory activities occurring in it. The residents who lived in this area expressed their concerns of not being secure and safe.

A police sergeant on the panel pledged that his department would address their concerns.

Everyone was allowed to bring forth questions, concerns, and grievances to the panelists. However, everyone's answers were postponed until the meeting's end due to the "interest of time."

As I stood in line to speak to the panelists, I myself began to hear each speaker. Criticisms ranged from lack of traffic safety, neighborhood protection, and scarce beneficial resources became instantaneous to my ears. One speaker expressed his efforts to receive a small business license, but was unsuccessful. He seemed discouraged in displaying his words to them. His greatest fear was that he wouldn't be able to support himself unless he got his license.

In a two-sided circulated community flyer, I viewed a chronology of concerns. One paragraph indicated that the SoMa community "wasn't against advocating for adequate funding for the rec center and park." Another was how funds are never really allocated into the community, regardless. Also indicated in the flyer were allegations of discrimination against the United Playaz staff; and refusals to allow them partnerships into their programs.

Some students raised an awareness that somewhat shocked not only me, but some attendees regarding the school food distributed to them: Poorly prepared portions, limited, and unsatisfactory meals were given to them daily. Hydra Mendoza, the school board president quickly rose from her seat to assure everyone that the food "was much better than it was five years ago."

She also stated that the city was the process of pouring funds into the school district.

"Where is the city going to get these funds considering its continuous claims of alleged shortfalls and deficits for the schools?" I asked myself, while dining on slices of pizza and sliced portions of sandwich rolls provided at this meeting.

Moreover, if these accusations made from the youth speakers were indeed valid; how can the city and/or state expect for all children, especially in elementary to function and focus in their education without proper nourishment?

"I just have a couple of questions for Supervisor Jane Kim." I said to them while shifting my eyes towards Kim's direction meeting her's. "One of them is how do you feel about the Eastern Neighborhood's Plan to "re-zone" the Mission District? The other is, what are your thoughts regarding the opposition against this plan to remove the Red Stone Building, and replace it with a condominium?"

For what felt like to me was just a typical two-hour dry doctored dialogue, with the panelists bearing remain-to-be-seen promises. After the meeting adjourned, I approached Supervisor Kim for her to respond to my series questions I had asked earlier on. I was curious about Kim's thoughts about the Eastern Neighborhood's Plan to "rezone" the Mission District, and removing the Redstone Building.

She immediately introduced me to her staff members. It felt in this instance as if my questions would be unanswered. I extended an invitation for her to come to the next POOR Community Newsroom. Kim couldn't promise she'd attend. If she was unable to, one of her reps would be sent instead.

"I'm interested in attending some of those meetings." Kim said to me, referencing the meetings held by the Redstone Building tenants concerning the building's future.

"Roughly about five people have asked her (Kim) to come the meetings, but she hasn't shown up, nor has any of her representatives." My comrade, Elder Scholar Bruce Allison would later inform me. "One of them was a resident of Adair Alley. ( He's asked her to come to the meetings, due to the project's plan to build forty parking spaces in it. This would be an inconvenience for him to even leave out of his home."

(Panelists present at the forum included:The panelists part of the SoMa Townhall evening meeting forum: .Colleen Chawla, Director of Grants, and Special Projects for S.F. Department of Public Health. .Hydra Mendoza, President of the San Francisco School Board of Education. .Phil Ginsburg, General Manager of Recreation and Park Department. .Courtney Pash, of the San Francisco Redevelopment Agency. .Mohammed Nuru, of San Francisco Department of Public Works. .Unknown sergeant from the San Francisco Police Department)

Articles of opposition against the proposed development plan:

http://poormagazine.org/node/3373
http://poormagazine.org/node/3380
http://missionlocal.org/2011/01/opposition-builds-for-condo-complex-near-redstone-building/

June 2000

#1

It was a small tree in the corner of a piece of partial nature only allowed to be there because it was the landscaped frame for a PGE processing plant ,,proving that poor people like us are not important unless we are sponsored by a corporation....

#2.......

You came to me that night in a yellow plastic bag surrounded by yellow police tape ......

the kind of police tape you would have used to throw at a cop who harassed homeless people -

the kind of cop who would hand out quality of life infractions ,

the kind of quality of life infractions that would get you a warrant ,

the kind of warrant that would land you in court ..the kind of court that you would fight ...

..the kind of fight that would land you in jail ............the kind of jail that would manufacture the yellow

tape that you would BREAK OUT OF ..

.for,,,EVER and ever and ever ..................

The Thursday, February 10th, 2011 early morning show (6a.m. to 9a.m.) on KPOO 89.5 FM was interesting.  A Big L Libertarian was interviewed, and what I at first heard was a great rant about how what is/was going on in Egypt is/was terrible, Obama sounded good at first but why did he change course and try to slow things down?

Big L Libertarians, can't live with 'em, can't kill 'em.  Darn.  They sound just like Very Conservative Republicans--they ARE Very Conservative but don't identify as Republicans.  They hate "Big Government", they hate government period.  They think government should get out of the way of The People and the corporations and let both do what they do best--make money, make wealth. 

The Big L Libertarian said this sort of thing several times, that this is/was the solution to problems like dictators ruling Egypt or anywhere else.  Corporations will solve all of our problems?  Corporations like the ones that sliced oil-rich Nigeria into a Muslim half and a Christian half that are supposed to hate each other now while people who are just plain poor try to get some oil for their personal use and get killed in explosions and fires? 

Corporations like Lennar, which owns big chunks of San Francisco, have a sweetheart deal with the city government over "cleaning up" the Navy Yard and have some of the responsibility for the steadily shrinking Black population of the city?  The banks getting fatter with more foreclosed houses every day?

Those wonderful guys who do what they do best, make money, make wealth?  At the Feb 15th, 2011, Tuesday morning 10 a.m. Coffee Hour where I live, the Elk Hotel, one guy talking to another said something about how hard it is to get a job in San Francisco 

To quote Michael Jackson:  They Don't Care About Us.  They never have.  You can see it in the way that the shredded social safety net is being fiddled with so more cuts can be made and more people can suffer, or suffer worse than they already are.  Big L Libertarians, can't live with 'em, don't wanna hear what they have to say.

June 2000

Last night on Friday, a man was found dead on San Francisco’s hard streets. I saw him once in a staff meeting; the name he went by was Trent. He was part of Media Alliance and participated in Community Newsroom at POOR. He had addiction problems; I don’t know the drugs used: it’s a non-issue. But Homelessness is ultimately what killed him.

To be homeless, focusing your mind on more than immediate food, shelter, and clothing is difficult enough to many, for some nearly impossible.

Trent did it, turning a so called negative outcome into an asset, an expert on the vagaries of threadbare survival.

Someone or thing cut Trent’s thread... Who, why, when are questions we may never know, but someone does, SOMEONE DOES!

We can all rise, learn, and move on: Trent proved that. I hope he has found a resting place; no longer worried about anything except returning to learn a few more lessons.

June 2000

I mourn his loss tremendously. Not only because he was a good, decent, and committed activist, but also because he was the single most exceptional and talented writer I've ever seen come out of the homeless movement. His writing had enormous potential to create social change. He was able to write every kind of story on every subject and make it compelling, vivid, and inspiring.

He wrote about Doug Ferrari. Doug was a great comedian who ended up homeless in the Tenderloin. Trent wrote his life story so that you could feel the ups and downs of Doug's life. You could see the hell he went through with substance abuse and mental disability. You could see the hellhole slum hotels that Doug was forced to live in. Because Trent wrote that story, he single-handedly lifted Doug Ferrari out of the oblivion of poverty and got him onto the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle. Trent was responsible for enlisting Doug Ferrari's friends to give him a helping hand.

Trent also wrote absolutely brilliant investigative journalism. He wrote about the police persecution of homeless people in Sacramento. He wrote about Hospitality House and the financial misconduct of its past officers. He was just truly a great writer with enormous ability to make a change for the better.

That is why his loss is felt so keenly by all of us who care about economic justice. His loss is more than a loss of a friend. It is an incredibly hard loss to the movement as a whole. And it’s very sad and tragic that he was never given the credit in this life for the greatness of his talent. And now the world may forget his great writing ability, unless we, his friends, are a voice for him now to remind people of how special and fine a person and a writer Trent was.

Los Jornaleros y sus companeros en la protesta contra la criminalización de el gerente de la tienda UHhaul/ Day laborers and allies protest the criminalization of Uhaul store manager.

Monday, February 15, 2010

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Los jornaleros que desde hace varios anos acuden a la calle alameda enfrente de la empresa U-HAUL, hicieron un planton con apoyo solidario de varias organizaciones de la comunidad de San Francisco entre ellas Living Wage, Power, Colectiva de Mujeres, Day Labor Program, Catalist, MUA, POOR Magazine, La Raza Centro Legal  y otras,

Despues de intentos fallidos por medio de cartas enviada a la central que dirige estas    empresas explicandole la manera tan despota e inhumana con que se conduce el manager y la intervencion en el momento de que los trabajadores son abordados por las personas que buscan sus servicios, ademas de imponerles por medio de una lista quien puede o no puede trabajar provocando una division entre estos los trabajadores jornaleros. 

Jose Figueoa dijo: estoy aqui potestando porque el manager de la empesa U-Haul no nos deja trabajar el sale y nos amenaza que si hablamos con las personas que se nos acercan para darnos trabajo el va a llamar a la policia y en ocaciones interviene en el momento de contratacion y nos impide lograr el trabajo.

El hizo su propia lista y a pesar  de que hemos estado formados desde las 5 de la manana para obtener un cliente el solo les da oportunidad a los que le caen bien no importando que lleguen mas tarde nuestra necesidad de obtener un trabajo nos hace madrugar pero este senor nos bloquea.

Roberto dijo: yo he venido aqui ha buscar trabajo desde hace 3 anos y antes que llegara este manager hace aproximadamente seis meses no teniamos problemas esta persona nos ostiga y nos falta el respeto nos grita. 

Sergio un jonalero activista dijo: queremos que dejen de humillarnos, todos nuestros problemas comenzaron por la intervencion del manager, queremos que nos dejen trabajar libremente el llama a la policia con el pretexto de que le gritamos pero eso no es cierto.

Renee Saucedo lider del Day Labor de San Francisco dijo: hemos mandado muchas cartas a la directiva y no han contestado y por esto seguimos pidiendo deje de ostigar criminalizar a los jornaleros y dejen de llamar a la policia deje de anunciarse como un Centro de Jornaleros.

Maria Luna miembra lider de la organizacion Mujeres Unidas y Activas presente en esta protesta mostro su solidaridad como organizadora, y proyectando la fuerza en su voz dijo: no vamos a permitir mas ofensas a los jornaleros, lucharemos con ellos hasta lograr la victoria.
Donaji representante de POWER Gente Organizada Para Ganar los Derechos de Empleo, presente en esta protesta aun bajo la lluvia y el frio y proyectando en su voz la indignacion que sentia como vecina y mienbra de su organizacion dijo; Esta empresa esta en nuestra comunidad y se ve beneficia economicamrnte de nosotros y nosotros no podemos permitir esta injusticia hacia los trabjadores jornaleros que viven aqui, por lo tanto exigimos que pare esta injusticia y si no lo hacen que se vayan de nuestro vecindario.

Prensa Pobre fue la el primer medio en hacer acto de presencia  como reporteras de la comunidad y para la comunidad para denunciar de que manera son injustamente tratados los trabajadores que buscan en las aceras trabajo. Presente tambien su co-directora, y co-reportera  Tiny a quien la lluvia no le impidio llegar en con su bicicleta camara y grabadora en mano e inmediatamente incorporandose planton mas tarde hizo uso del microfono y dijo; yo use mucho tiempo en este servicio. En las epocas que me encontraba sin casa y el trato que me dieron fue pesimo porque me veo como gente pobre por eso estoy aqui porque los jorneleros son trabajadores pobres que estan siendo injustmente tratados.

Otro miembro de una organizacion llamada CATALYST llamado CRIS CRASS dijo: "estamos en contra al racismo y las injusticias que ocurren con los trabjadores de color."

Termino este reportaje feliz de observar la solidaridad de la comunidad y tambiem de muchas organizaciones que dijeron ya basta.         

Engles Sigue

Day laborers made history today.  Supported by several community organizations including the San Francisco Living Wage Coalition, POWER, Women's Collective, Day Labor Program, Catalyst, MUA, POOR Magazine, La Raza Centro Legal and others hundreds of workers marched, spoke truth to power and resisted the criminalization of day laborers by the managers of Uhaul. This march and protest happened after multiple failed attempts to negotiate through letters sent to the central directors running these companies explaining the workers situation.

" I am here because the manager that just started working at U-Haul does not allow us to seek work outside the building and threatens us that if we talk to people who approach us to give us the work he will call the police and on occasions during the time that we were being hired he interferes with us even getting the job,"  said Jose Figueroa, day laborer

Jose explained that the manager made his own list (of day laborers) and although we often begin waiting at 5 in the morning to get a customer, he still only gives the jobs to the people he likes even if they arrive late in the morning

Another worker named Roberto said, " I have been here looking for work for over 3 years and we had no problem. We started having problems six months ago after this manager began working at Uhaul. He harasses us, disrespects us and yells at us and calls the police."

Sam a jonalero activist said: 'We want him to stop humiliating us, all our problems started with this manager, we want him to let us work freely. he calls the police on the pretext that we shout but that's not true."

Renee Saucedo leader of the Labor Day in San Francisco said: "We sent many letters to the director and they have not replied. In our letters we asked the manager to stop criminalizing and harassing laborers, stop calling the police and finally to stop misrepresenting themselves and advertising as a Day Labor Center "

Maria Luna leading members of the organization Mujeres Unidos y Activas represented in this protest showing their solidarity with the workers and said, "We will not allow the laborers to be insulted, we will fight with them to achieve victory".

Donaji, representative of POWER, People Organized to Win Employment Rights, appeared at this protest even under the rain and the cold and said that they felt the indignation of their neighbors: "This company (Uhaul) is in our community and their economy earns money from us and we can not allow this injustice to the laborers who seek work here, therefore we demand that this injustice stop if they want to to be in our neighborhood".

POOR Magazine was the first media to make an appearance, as reporters of the community who are directly impacted by this treatment and crminalizaiton. We were there to report and support on our companeros the day laborers who are part of the community and are being treated unfairly on the sidewalks looking for work. My fellow reporter and POOR Magazine co-editor, Tiny showed up on her bicycle, not detered by the rain, with camera and tape recorder in hand and later stated at the rally,"When me and my mama were houseless in Oakland and San Francisco, we used Uhaul for storage and they always treated us meanly and with little respect and called the police on us many times for no reason, I believe that Uhaul is a corporation that treats the poor very badly which is one of the reasons I'm here in solidarity with the working poor who are being unfairly treated."

Another member of an organization called Catalyst with CHRIS CRASS said: "We are against racism and injustice that occur with workers of color."

As a worker/ reportera for Voces de inmiigrantes en resistencia at POOR Magazine and community activist I was pleased to see the solidarity of the community and the allies on this day and Im here to say enough is enough.

June 2000

Your inspiration, encouragement and ethics will be with me forever. I will miss you. AND I promise to spell better in the future; perhaps.

Taxes en Imigrantes es un Robo/The tax on immigrants is theft

Monday, February 15, 2010;

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Nosotros, los migrantes/imigrantes somos tratados como ladrones por que los residentes estadonidences piensan que le robamos los trabajos. Como una migrante/imigrante trabajadora  debo tengo que respetamente estar desacuerdo con eso, en verdad, la historia verdadera es, que muchos imigrantes han construido este pais. En mi pais de Guatemala. Tenmos un dicho, “Nadie en un profeta en nuestra propia tierra”.

Estamos en restaurantes, hoteles, tiendas, granjas, etc. Estamos en todas partes por que nosotros no le tenemos miedo a nada. Nosotros hacemos cualquier trabajo que requiere trabajar, aun que sea fisico o duro.

Haga se esta pregunta, quien limpia, quien cuida a los ninos, etc. “Los Imigrantes”. Yo pienso que no es justo que somos tratdos mal y que somos ignorados en esta sociedad, no somos mala gente.

Recientemente estado triste por la situacion de amigo. Desde que ha llegado a este pais el a estado pagando sus taxes, todos saben que en todos los cheques que el recibe, hay una deduccion en su cheque. El gobierno le regresa una miseria de cheque. Lastimosamente pero a los immigrantes no le regresan nada.
 

Mi amigo debia originalmente mil dolares en taxes y no pudo pagar esa deuda, ahora su deuda aumentado a cinco mil dolares. Tiene una fecha en que debe pagar ese dinero y si no paga esa deuda por esa fecha, le puden dar una multa. Yo creo que es un robo y un abuso de poder.

Yo creo que gente con un estatus legal son muy afortunados por que no tienen que dejar sus familias para sobrevivir como muchos de nosotros hacemos que dejamos nuestras familias en nuestros paises para buscar trabajo. Estamos muy lejos de los seres que queremos, tratando de construir una mejor vida para nuestra familias. Estamos peleando por nuestras vidas, para sobrevivir. Este pais nos hace sentir como pajaros sin alas o nidos.

DIOS nuestro creador nos hizo a todos igual, DIOS tambien es el dueno de el oro, plata y del todo el mundo, pero desgraciadamente nos estaos comiendo a cada uno. Es suficiente ya no queremos mas humillacion, somos seres humanos, somos seress humanos y e igual que todos los demas.

Engles Sigue

We, the migrant/immigrant peoples are treated as a thieves because US residents think we steal their jobs. As a hard-working migrant/immigrant I must respectfully disagree, actually, the real story is, a lot of immigrants have built this country.  In my country of Guatemala. We have a saying,“Nobody is a prophet in our own land”.

We are at restaurants, hotels, stores, farms, etc.  We are everywhere, because we are not afraid of anything. We do every job that we are required to do, even if it is physical or hard work. 

Ask yourself, who clean things, and takes care of children, etc. “The Immigrants”.  I think it is not fair that we get bad treatment, and that we are ignored in this society, we are not bad people. 

Recently I have been very sad at the plight of my friend. Since his arrival to this country has been paying his taxes, and everybody knows that in every single check that he gets, there is a tax deduction.  The government returns him a miserable check.  Unfortunately the immigrants don’t get anything back.

My friend originally owed one thousand dollars in taxes, but he couldn’t afford his debt, now his debt has increased to five thousand dollars.  He has gotten a due date, and if he does not pay it on time, he could get a fine.  I think it is a burglary, an abuse of power.

I think people with legal status are very lucky, because they don’t have to give up  their family just to survive like so many of us do when we have to leave our families and countries just to seek work.  We are so far from the people that we love, trying to build a better future to our family.  We are fighting for our lives, fighting to survive.  This government makes us feel like birds without our nest or without wings.

God our Creator made us all equal, God is also the owner of the gold, silver, and the entire world, but unfortunately we are eating each other.  It is enough we don’t want more humiliation, we are human beings, and the same as everybody. 

Migrant/Immigrant workers and community members organize a town hall meeting against the violence of immigration raids

Tuesday, August 26, 2008;

For English scroll down

Yo soy el hijo de una ola… una ola de trabajadores indocumentados… una ola ascendiendo y descendiendo… Toda mi vida hemos estado montandos esta ola, una ola de incertidumbre, una ola de altibajos, a veces sin saber si las altas fueron bajas o si las bajas fueron altas. Una ola que se celebró un momento, y fue culpadó a otro. Una ola que emigraro a estas tierras trabajando duro y dando a sus hijos algo que nunca tuvo, la oportunidad - una oportunidad para permanecer a flote; una oportunidad para comenzar nuestra vida en tierra firme. Estoy en tierra y veo las olas. Veo una ola de Pilipinos, una ola de chinos, un a ola de indios… veo una ola indígena a través de ojos indígenas. Ellos son hermosas. Yo soy la ola.

Esta es mi oportunidad - a navegar a través de instituciones de educacion, mientras escribiendo para POOR Magazine. Yo soy un residente legal de un país que criminaliza a mi familia y mi comunidad. ¿Dónde irá mi ola? Veo ahora una nueva ola - fea, fascista; una multitud envuelta en el patriotismo. Esta ola es Control de Aduanas e Inmigracion (ICE). Los ataques a la zona de la Bahía ha resultado en más de 400 detenciones de personas migrantes. El 2 de mayo de 2008, ICE ataco 11 taquerías de El Balazo adonde arrestaron 63 trabajadores inocentes. Los efectos de esta ola terrible prevalecen en nuestra comunidad. El temor, la incertidumbre y la paranoia que siente cada uno de los trabajadores y sus familias no se desaparecen, si no manchan el corazón y la mente. "Adonde iremos si nos capturan? ¿Qué haremos? Tengo miedo. He oído historias" .. . Lo vivimos.

Esta ola de opresión ha ido más allá de lo que creíamos posible. Una ola terrible - como la ola que nos hizo huir nuestra tierra. He leído acerca de un tiempo similar - un tiempo cuando personas fueron golpeadas en la calle por nada-un tiempo cuando las personas diferentes tubieron derechos sólo en papel. Suficiente es suficiente. Miro alrededor y veo que Jim Crow nunca murió, simplemente cambió su nombre a ICE. Él modifico sus técnicas de violencia, pero él sigue siendo el mismo, con la misma cara, con la misma gente que le apoya con mensajes de odio. Un día alguien va a leer acerca de nuestra situación, nuestro tiempo, nuestra ola… y ellos también leeran que a veces, suficiente es suficiente.

Hace algún tiempo, nuestra ola fue celebrada. Apoyada por el trabajo duro que hacemos por salarios bajos. Todavía trabajamos duro y apenas nos pagan, pero ahora, somos llamados delincuentes. Los culpables de la crisis económica. Blancos para el abuso. Hemos vivido con esto por un tiempo. Pero ahora esta hasta nuestro cuello, y estamos haciendo algo al respecto.

A principios de mayo de este año, los miembros inmigrantes de las comunidades del Área de la Bahía, organizaciones de defensa y derechos de inmigrantes, se reunieron para elaborar estrategias de cómo los condados del Área de la Bahía podrían colaborar para poner fin a las redadas de Control de Aduanas e Inmigracion (ICE), que siguen aterrorizando a todas las comunidades migrantes y tienen un impacto directo a nuestra economía local. Consideramos estas medidas de ejecución como una forma consciente de persecución masiva, que penalizan nuestras comunidades y separadan nuestras familias. El número de detenciones y deportaciones de este año ha creado un clima de temor que también pone en peligro la seguridad pública. Las comunidades de inmigrantes tienen miedo de denunciar los delitos, ir a las clínicas de salud - incluso enviar a sus hijos a la escuela. Como un líder en su comunidad, esperamos que puedan unirse a nosotros y hacer más para crear soluciones regionales a un problema que afecta a todas las comunidades en la mayor área de la Bahía.

La Junta del Pueblo del Area de la Bahia será un foro que reúne a politicos y familias que han sido afectados por estos ataques. Residentes inmigrantes de condados de San Francisco, Contra Costa, Alameda, Solano y Marín tendrán la oportunidad de compartir con politicos los efectos de los ataques, así como hacer peticiones concretas sobre cómo los funcionarios electos puedan responder.

La Junta del Pueblo del Area de la Bahia sera en Richmond en el gimnasio de la Iglesia San Cornelio, 201 28th St. Richmond, una ciudad que tiene una población que es predominantemente de inmigrantes y comunidades de color. Muchas familias inmigrantes se han movido a Richmond, porque no pueden vivir en lugares como San Francisco y Silicon Valley por los precios de renta tan altos. Richmond está experimentando en esfuerzos para aprobar una ID Municipal, pero esta también luchando contra las acusaciones de la policía injustas que apuntan a parar inmigrantes cuando estan manejando.

En Engles

I am the son of a wave… a wave of undocumented workers… a wave rising and falling… All my life we've been riding this wave, a wave of uncertainty, a wave of ups and downs, sometimes not knowing if the ups were downs or if the downs were ups. A wave that is praised one moment, blamed at another. A wave that migrated to this land working hard and giving their offspring something they never had, opportunity--an opportunity to stay afloat; an opportunity to begin our lives on solid ground. I stand ashore and I see the waves. I see a Pilipino wave, a Chinese wave, an Indian wave…I see an indigenous wave through indigenous eyes. They are beautiful. I am the wave.

This is my opportunity--navigating my wave through institutions of higher learning while writing for POOR Magazine. I am a legal resident of a country that criminalizes my family and my community. Where will my wave go? I see another wave now--ugly, fascist; a mob cloaked in patriotism. This wave of Immigration, Control, and Enforcement (ICE) attacks in the bay area has resulted in over 400 arrests of migrant people. On May 2nd, 2008, ICE attacked 11 of El Balazo taquerias which resulted in over 63 arrests of innocent workers. The effects of this dreadful wave prevail in our community. The fear, uncertainty, and paranoia felt by each worker and their families do not fade, they stain the heart and the mind. "Where we will we go if they catch us? What will we do? I’m scared. I’ve heard stories".. .We ride.

This oppressive wave has gone beyond what we thought possible. A terrifying wave--like the wave that made us flee our home-land. I read about a similar time--a time when people were getting beat on the streets for nothing—a time when people who were different had rights on paper only. Enough was enough. I look around and see that jim crow never died, he just changed his name to ICE. He modified his techniques of violence, but he’s still the same guy with the same face with the same people backing him up with messages of hate. One day someone will read about our plight, our time, our wave… and they too will read that sometimes, enough is enough.

Some time ago, our wave was praised. Celebrated for working hard for cheap wages. We still work hard and hardly get paid anything, but now, we are criminals. Scapegoats for the economic crisis. Targets for abuse. We lived with this for a while. But now it is up to our necks, and we are doing something about it.

In early May of this year, members of the Bay Area immigrant communities, and immigrant rights advocacy organizations, gathered to strategize how Bay Area counties could collaborate to stop the current Immigration, Control, and Enforcement (ICE) raids, which continue to terrorize entire communities and have a direct impact on our local economy. We view these enforcement activities as a massive form of conscious persecution, which criminalize our communities and separate our families. The record number of detentions and deportations this year has created a climate of fear which also threatens public safety. Immigrant communities are fearful of reporting crimes, going to health clinics-- even sending their children to school. As a leader in your community, we hope you can join us and do more to create regional solutions to a problem that impacts all communities in the greater Bay Area.

The Bay Area Regional Town Hall Meeting will provide a forum that brings together elected officials and families that have been impacted by these raids. Immigrant residents of San Francisco, Contra Costa, Alameda, Solano and Marin Counties will have the opportunity to share with elected officials the impacts of the raids, as well as make concrete requests on how elected officials can respond.

The Regional Town Hall Meeting will be held in Richmond (exact location to be announced), a city which has a population that is predominantly immigrant and communities of color. Many immigrant families have moved to Richmond because they can no longer afford live in places like San Francisco and the Silicon Valley. Richmond is experiencing exciting efforts to pass a Municipal ID, but is also dealing with allegations of unfair police check points which target immigrant drivers.

For more information download flyer for Town Hall Meeting

June 2000

I finally wander into the COH offices around half past noon Saturday, June 3rd. People who call me a workaholic are closer to the truth than I'll ever let on: Money jingles in my pocket, and teeming along sidewalks linking all the many liquor stores of the Tenderloin are the typical legions of dealers and hustlers and runners and lookouts and all the whatever elses I don't care to contemplate and am trying to avoid - all of them choking back the despair of poverty and illness for a few moments at a time… sealing their fates in the bargain.

On Saturdays, all that chaos and misery stays out on the sidewalk because the office door is locked, limiting the measure of turmoil and anguish in the office to only that which we permit, or that which we bring with us.

The office seems empty at first but the lights are on, then I run across a couple of volunteers in the back office. One flashes this funny look to the other, and then they get real quiet. Before I can ask what's up, one of them says to me in that bearer-of-bad-news tone "Sit down, bro. There's something I gotta tell ya."

After he successfully insists that I actually sit down I'm racing ahead to the presumption that A) the bad news is he fucked up my workstation and now he's afraid I'm going to go off on him, and B) an entirely inappropriate level of drama is accompanying our little moment together.

"Trent died last night."

I discard premise A, but premise B isn't disproved. I automatically chant the standard response I learned along the years: "OK, Trent's dead. Everybody dies, man. That's just part of life. How did it happen?"

The volunteer reels off a sketchy account gleaned from earlier conversations with la Tiny. Died homeless last night at Larkin and McAllister. Other people who knew him were present. Suspected overdose. When Tiny had arrived at the scene via some freakishly macabre category of coincidence, he was already in the body bag. One of Trent's companions at the scene reportedly charged that the SFPD officers present "let my friend die." Or hasten the process perhaps?

Later, after the volunteer had finished relating events long on reactions and short on details, I realized that the circumstances surrounding Trent's death would come to light soon enough. He had joined the ranks of San Francisco's homeless dead, and we would be studying his premature demise along with the many scores of others. We will then distill all the year's homeless mortality data into a report to be released (perversely enough) between Thanksgiving and Xmas. That, and Trent's name will go on a list which will be read, and later burned, at an evening memorial ceremony in Civic Center on the next Winter Solstice. The list grows longer each year.

Every year my "private list" - the names which conjure memories of familiar faces - grows longer, too. Call it an occupational hazard.

But this wasn't the case for the bearer of the sad tidings. He'd camped out by the beach with Trent and another homeless COH volunteer for a while about a year ago, and it was clear that he hadn't yet grown accustomed to witnessing the savage mechanisms which render loved ones and friends into statistics. I told him it would be harder when he hears Trent's name read in December.

Trent was homeless, and volunteered in our Civil Rights project. He was bright and talented and sarcastic. He was well-schooled in that anarcho-punk DIY attitude of cooperative collaboration. When he was fully engaged in an issue he could compose some of the most original copy we've ever published. Trent didn't need any of my guidance or encouragement to be one of our best writers, he only needed to find refuge from the dehumanizing and alienating milieu of grinding poverty and homelessness on these quality-of-life streets of San Francisco. He just needed to be part of something bigger than himself that accepted him as he was.

His best work was usually captured in one-shot marathon sessions at one of the civil rights project's workstations - transfixed in the separate reality of focused creation. And that's the only place where Trent Hayward (aka Harpo Corleone) ever found respite from a life of shit. The only reward Trent had found on the bottom of society was a passion for justice, and Harpo was justice's champion. And like many other creative, passionate people - homeless or not - his sensitivity would nourish the roots of his demise.

In an impartial analysis, Trent's death isn't very surprising. His appetite for alcohol and drugs was formidable, and he often carried a clear plastic sport bottle brimming with Royal Gate vodka as an accessory to his urban camping kit. Trent's face frequently bore cuts and bruises - souvenirs of the previous evening's impromptu endover to the pavement or tumble down a hillside at the beach. His smartass wit would eventually devolve into loud confused drunken hostility. Bitterness always lay just below the surface, awaiting chemical release.

Darkness courted Trent. He had a "past." Everyone who's ever been homeless has such a story. The dynamic is best expressed as an amalgam of bad luck compounded by bad choices, or vice-versa. A busted relationship, family violence, drugs, disability, prison, death of a loved one: loss and grief and despair. After someone then internalizes the stigma of their state of homelessness - when they come to believe their lives aren't worth much more than the all the "urination and defecation" that flavors so much of what issues from their persecutors' mouths - getting loaded enough to find fleeting unconscious oblivion in whatever park or doorway you find yourself in is about as good as it's ever going to get.

We had occasionally shared a few beers after 5 pm, trying to relieve the sometimes unbelievable frustration that come from trying to educate a public constantly propagandized by television and all those "horse traders" at the Chron. One such night last December, as y2k drew near and the end of the world was in the back of everyone's mind, we were half-drunkenly speculating that if the Christian Messiah were homeless in SF, what would he be doing right now? I told Trent the old joke that Jesus must be in jail, because that's where everyone finds him.

This led us to the not-so-terribly-clever speculation that he would be in a mental ward, but not in SF because mental health care has been the red-haired stepchild of our Dept. of Public Health for decades. Then Trent got real serious and told me that Jesus would be an addict - that's how we crucify people in our capitalist society.

Trent was trying to become his own savior. He was finding a way out through his writing. When he landed the gig at the GUARDIAN I was excited for him. I told him that no matter if it was shitwork, or if his co-workers ever turned their noses up at him, it still represented a quantum leap up from the STREET SHEET - sex ads and all.

He also wrote an article recently that chronicled the downward spiral of a once-promising comic named Doug Ferrari. More recently, an EXAMINER human interest story told us how the (uncredited) article led to a chain of events where one of Ferrari's successful friends found him living in the Tenderloin and was helping him to regain a career in entertainment. I hope Trent's life had more purpose than to only serve as the agent of another's fortune. If Trent had friends with the means that Ferrari's friends had, he might be with us today.

Through service we grow
in love, deeper and deeper
for so many we touch unaware.
Every so often we must step
back, and then
leave plateaus for higher mastery.
Is this what growing into the mystery
is?
God always suspending us over the abyss
with a child's hands

Saturday, July 17, 2010;

“Our worst men lock up our best men”

--Charles Bukowski

It was my Goddamn Frisco sweatshirt.  I didn’t even buy it.  I found it on a banister, tried it on.  It fit like my own skin.  Maybe it was my own skin. I was riding my bike down Market Street on the way to meet a friend for coffee—a half block from my destination—the San Francisco Public Utilities Commission (PUC), where my friend works.  I think of Market Street and how many times I’ve walked its face, balanced myself on its spine.  I see faces of all kinds—faces that have stories that come from places so deep that I am often saddened that most of those stories go untold.

I was on my bike in my city on my way to meet a friend. Between the both of us, we have a combined 87 years of residence in the city.  I glided past houseless folks, landless folks, elders, Filipinos, yuppies, bikers, artists, office workers, recyclers etc.  As I got closer to the PUC, I saw a group of 6 or 7 goofy looking folks in blue uniforms.  They were gathered near the entrance of Trinity Plaza.  I am a Children’s book author.  In my book, “Lakas and the Makibaka Hotel”, Trinity Plaza was the inspiration for the “Makibaka Hotel”—the site where elders and youth come together to fight their eviction by a greedy landlord. 

The 6 or 7 goofy looking folks were members of the San Francisco Police Department—all men and one female officer.  There’s something about uniforms I’ve never liked.  Perhaps it’s the starched quality or perhaps the dullness of it.  I wore a blue uniform once while working at a fast food establishment, and I currently wear one in my present job as a security officer—guarding the property of a landowner—while, I myself, own no land (The uniform isn’t mine either). The uniforms aren’t fit for Bozo the Clown (which was one of the reasons why I was wearing the Frisco sweatshirt…I wanted something more flattering).  The polyester pants are uncomfortable and my underwear always ends up in my ass.  The cops look as if they have the same problem, although they obviously do their best to conceal it (I think).  A uniform is a convenient thing to hide behind, much like a flag.  The shirt I wear as a security officer is sky blue as opposed to the SFPD’s dark blue (blue, blue…my love is blue), making me look more like a meter maid or MUNI fare collector. 

On this day I was wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the word “Frisco” emblazoned on it in red letters (Why not Frisco…I was born here).  The cops looked at me cruising on my bike and ordered me to stop, saying: “You know you’re not supposed to be riding on the sidewalk”.  I told the cop that I was less than half a block away from the PUC to meet a friend.  The female officer asked to see my ID. I produced it.  “Have you ever been arrested?” she asked.  “No”  “Are you on parole?” “No” Oh really, she said, as if surprised.  She checked my ID with some faceless person over her radio.  The male officer stood close by, to make sure I knew he was there.  The ID check was swift, performed before I had the chance to bow, do the sign of the cross or slip into a compliant yoga position with my neck fully exposed (lucky me).  Her official sounding radio communication was reminiscent of a Harrison Ford Movie (Without Harrison Ford).

It’s true--I’d never been arrested.  I’d never gotten anything heavier than a parking ticket.  I am a children’s book author and co-editor of POOR Magazine—a fact that doesn’t make me better than anyone else, but certainly doesn’t make me any worse either.  But I know folks who have been arrested and incarcerated—some of the best folks I know.  For some reason I get along with them—often times better than I get along with people who have not served time.  We sit, talk, laugh and eat donuts while watching the world go by.  I stood waiting for the cop to return my ID.  A few yards away were 6 or 7 youth of color, mostly African descended, sweeping the streets and leveling dirt at the base of trees lining the sidewalk.  The female officer returned my ID as if she was disappointed I hadn’t lied about not being on probation.  I looked at her and her nightstick which was almost as big as she was.  She looked like a typical American born Chinese girl from the Richmond District (I shouldn’t say that, I know…it’s profiling), that hotbed of resistance (Thank God for Eric Mar).  I had a sense that it was her first taste of power—but I could be wrong.  The male officer tried to be friendly, thanking me for my time in the same way a prospective employer does when he knows you don’t have shot of getting the job.  I took my ID and as I pushed my bike to the PUC one of the young street sweepers said, “Man, they ain’t got nothing better to do”.  I nodded thinking that it was an injustice that these young people have to sweep streets for officers to walk on.

I watched the news report that said Johannes Mehserle wept on the stand during the trial for the murder of Oscar Grant.  He thought he was reaching for his taser.   I thought of way Oscar Grant was brutalized before the shot was fired--forced down face first, knees on his neck.  He was just a young black man whose life wasn’t worth anything—that’s the message—broadcast on TV and all over the internet for the world to see.  For young men of color, people of color—particularly black people—the blue uniform doesn’t mean truth and justice—it means death—namely theirs, especially if they speak out or resist being violated.  I think of my grandfather who came here as an immigrant from the Philippines in the 20’s.  The Filipinos were brutalized by the police in the cities.  My grandfather was among them, handcuffed to a lamppost on Kearny Street near the Hall of Justice and, ironically, not far from the International Hotel--where our elders resisted eviction while mounted police forced their way through a human barricade 8 deep.

I was upset at being stopped by the cops like that.  Their attitude is that they own you.  My grandfather’s story, my story, my children’s story or anything I’ve written, in that moment, didn’t seem to matter—as well as the stories or lives of the street sweepers that are written in the streets.  The arbitrary manner in which I was stopped, because of my sweatshirt and race, is indicative of the race and class profiling that is perpetrated upon communities of color in our lovely and wonderful city. 

My experience is nothing compared to what happened to POOR Legal Scholar Marlon Crump—in his SRO hotel room when officers stormed in with guns drawn on the wrong person.  To Edress Stelly, Oscar Grant and many others who have died or sustained serious injury at the hands of the police.  I walk my city and look at the big buildings—designed to make you feel small and powerless—in much the same way law enforcement is designed.   Who put those big buildings there to make us feel small? Who are these people that are here to “serve and protect”?  What are they here to protect and who put them here?  Who is profiling them?  Who?  And why do I have to respect them when they do not have an ounce of respect for me or my skin?

© 2010 Tony Robles