Newsroom is packed this month, filled with stories.  Papa Bear comes late— says he had gotten a ticket on the bus trying to get to our sacred monthly circle.  As he sits down next to me, I can feel his anguish. And I feel my own deep sadness, because when he speaks I hear what he’s really saying: that he wants to go home, that he is tired of living a hard life, that he wants to rest. 

Papa Bear speaks with his head down, reporting on the deaths of those in the community, his own friends. A friend of his was stabbed in front of his eyes.  He’s seen two shootings on the same day, one on Ellis and Larkin and the other between Polk and Ellis. And now, another friend of his has died; her memorial is later this evening.

It is clearly difficult for Papa Bear to put this all into words.  Soon he tells us more about living on the streets, about the changing laws and regulations making his life more difficult; that he doesn’t make any money pan handling any more because the police are getting worse.  He notices that there are highway police in the Tenderloin, in addition to the regular police patrol, safe inside their vehicles, those black & whites and Benzes.

Just as it’s hard for Papa Bear to speak, it’s hard for me to write this news report.  I have to listen to some Tupac to get it done. Tupac’s a genius, he came and lived on the streets himself.  And so his music helps me, inspires me to write about another important person living these hardships, Papa Bear. 

Papa Bear leaves Newsroom a little early this November, so that he can make it to the memorial of our friend, Linda, found dead in her home.  When he begins to speak of Linda I become upset, because I know her too.  She was a librarian in Hunters Point, living in the ghetto with us, and was widely recognized as a social worker.  A lot of people went to the library to talk with Linda, and at-risk youth loved her.  She would find a book for anyone.  In fact, she hired me herself to work at the Library.  When she hired me she told me she wants to hire a lot of African American people, and that she planned to order more African American books. 

So I know Linda is special, and she will be missed.  And I know Linda is special because Papa Bear knows her, and she knew Papa Bear.  It’s people like Papa Bear who are our heroes, not the fake non-profit organization that establish themselves in the hood and take all the money.  Our heroes are people like Papa Bear.  Praise God.

Eastern samar of the philippines...the land of my people the waray waray...I remember going to the river to catch shrimp too big to fit into my hands that would be fried with saba (the philippine plantain) or stewed with gabi leaves, banana hearts, bamboo shoots in coconut milk...i remember the cobras that were put into the rice silos to kill rats that got into the storerooms of freshly harvested and dried rice...i remember the tiki tiki lizards who lived in the rafters of the house and who always appeared when it was time to eat...I remember my family throwing rise up to the lizards when they would sing “tiki tiki tiki” in a loud chorus and how they would skillfully catch the rice midair with their long, fast tongues...I remember being fearful and unable to sleep as a monsoon passed by...i remember my family seemingly untroubled telling stories, laughing in the darkness as the storm rattled and raged outside...

On november 8, 2013 typhoon yolanda hit the eastern visayas. It was the 26th typhoon to hit the nation of 7,100 islands this year. And the strongest known recorded typhoon in the history of world according to merterologists. It was three times stronger than huricane katrina and four times larger. Four million people mostly waray waray have been displaced. At least 10,000 have died and the body count continues. An an ugly agenda of forgien imperialist interests is unfolding.

The last time is was in the eastern visayas I was twelve years old. It is the ancestral lands and territory of the waray waray people – the third poorest region of the philippines and home to a warrior society that has a history of militant resistance against spanish, japanese, u.s and chinese imperialism. We have countless stories and songs of the waray waray people being hospitable to the forginers...until my ancestors realized that the agenda was of complete colonization of the islands and her people. Whether it be 1898 or 1948, once the waray waray realized what was happening, my ancestors organized and massacred foreign soldiers. One of the most well known masacares happened in banglagia. We completely defeated the u.s military attempts under general douglas mac arthur to remilitarize the area. In retaliation mac arthur declared he would turn the area into a “howling wilderness” and had every waray waray over the age of 10 years old killed.

Today the lands of the waray waray people are again a howling wilderness.

I remember sitting on pink beaches, dipping sweet juicy mangos I picked off the trees into the salty sea and devouring them with enthusiasm and delight... I remember unsuccessfully attempting to try to follow my cousins scampering up coconut trees on white beaches... I remember seeing crocodiles that were the size of fallen redwood trees and running faster that I have ever run in my life...

In a country that is used to the monsoon season this super typhoon was nothing that the islands have ever seen. Entire cities have been left without a building or a cococunt tree left standing. The beaches I ran on are were covered with debris and dead bodies. A month after the storm and some areas still have no electricity, no internet no phone. Some ares still have not received relief.

It took the philippine government five days to actually respond to the disaster. The first relief efforts came from other nations, not the republic of the philippines.  And once the relief efforts came, corrupt politicians repackaged the relief goods with notes that said “brought to you from senator/congressman/president so and so”. That took a few more days for the relief to arrive to the people. And other relief supplies never made it to the visayas. They were resold at stores in manila.

Imperialist military forces took complete advantage of the corrupt philippine government's inaction and disregard. The u.s and then israel and then china sent thousands or military forces to flood the region....not with relief...with guns to “maintain order.” Two weeks the philippine declared all grassroots relief efforts were outlawed and forceably evacuated grassroots volunteers. Last week the red cross came in with forced live polio vaccinations for the entire region. The philippines irradiated the polio virus in the 1940s.

Why this surge of military in the philippines? The philippines was a direct colony of the u.s from 1898 to 1940. From 1090 to the present we have been a neo-colony of the u.s. The philippine republic was set up by the u.s government. Every philippine president has attended harvard or yale. And every policy and budget item reflects the imperialist needs of the u.s. Currently the u.s. Government has more than 60 military bases throughout the philippines and is actively engaged in protecting and moving forward the interests of foreign multinatinal corporations, and of fighting the revolutionary new peoples army – the armed underground branch of the national democratic revolution in the philippines. The philippines has always been a startegic military stronghold for the u.s and other imperialist powers. It was always been a treasure chests of natural resources from gold to uranium to coconut to sugar to lumber to fish to cheap exportable labor.

In the new world order of 2013, the need to fully secure the philippines for imperialist military domination and for her resources is so serious that rather than help the philippine people who survived the typhoon they would rather kill them. Stories have been told that a week before typhoon yolanda u.s military HARP technology was seen in the waters off the coasts of eastern samar...The waray waray people after all are known to be resilient warriors who fight back and win...

I remember walking thru the rice paddys and the way the mud would ooze thru my toes... I remember watching my people farm the land and fish the waters...i remember listening to the stories of how brave and fierce and reslient my people are...i remember sitting in the jungle under giant leaves listening to the sounds of the place that runs in my blood and flesh and certain that with was paradise on earth...i remember...and I know that what I remember no longer is...

SuperBabyMaMaaaaaaaz!!!!..... welfareQUEEN’s theatre production 2007

SuperBabyMama of the Month- Sharena Diamond Thomas

"So many people tried to tell me to sell them the car, that it was the alternator, and I should just give up, and then one morning, I just woke up and had my coffee and fixed my own damn car,” Sharena Thomas related to me as we were walking through our mutual struggles with children, food stamp cuts, side jobs and revolutions to share knowledge with other poverty skolaz at the Albany Bulb resistance camp. 

We both walked up the small hill, with a backdrop of our Mama Earth's breathtaking landscapes, towards one of many tents where landless peoples were peacefully dwelling and now resisting the devil-opers and real estate snakkkes trying to evict them. As we walked, we laughed through the current act of what i coined in 2007 with the creation of the welfareQUEEN's play, our SuperbabyMama moments, which is just that, as single parents in struggle, we make it happen, By Any Means, and still, as our welfareQUEENs anthem states, raise all the world's people, like me and you and you.. As we walked we also carried our children, our problems, our solutions and our mamaz dreams on our backs.

Sharena and Lesley Phillips, conducted one of their power-FUL medic trainings for the residents of the Bulb and i did an interview for PNN before i had to leave to go to my other side job where I earn some money outside of the now-reduced food stamps i and my family currently struggle to survive on.

It was in that walk, and Sharena's beautiful story of by any means necessary-ness- and so many like it from my other many sista-mamaz, that I knew we must start the SuperbabyMama Awards at POOR Magazine. and this month’s soon to be created honor goes to my sista-mama Sharena who with no formal training in mechanics, tested, removed and replaced her own battery. She is also raising four children and has been involved in the village-raising of countless others, she, along with Lesley co-founded the self-determined, people-led self-help group called Peoples Community Medics. Sharena is also a community gardener, a beautiful soul  and auntie to thousands.. to name just a few of her mad skillz.

Sharena is a member of the powerful crew of my other sista-SuperBabyMamaz like Needa Bee of Healthy Hoodz, Vivian Thorp, Jewnbug, Tracey Faulkner, Laure McElroy and Queenandi of the welfareQUEENS of POOR Magazine, Estrella, Talibah, Ingrid DeLeon, Ma’ at, Krea Gomez, Cyndi Mitchell, Terrilyn, Cori Ander, Linda Montoya and Mona Lisa and so many more.  And don’t even get me started bout Denika Chatman, and Tracey Bell Borden from Kenny Harding Jr Foundation and Mesha Irazarry of Idriss Stelley Foundation, the amazing and fierce Corrina Gould and my ghetto-fabulous, single mama Dee who are just a few of the future recipients of this long-awaited and much needed award (and eventual ceremony).

All of them, all of us, superbabymamaz, mechanics, cooks, artists, janitors, drivers, advocates, revolutionaries, dreamers, lovers, writers, story-tellers, musicians and visionaries who also, singlehandedly with very little resources, often in deep poverty, unstable or unsafe housing, fighting borders, landlords, welfare systems, abusive bosses, houselessness, criminalization and colonization to raise the worlds people, By Any means Necessary. Always.

Sharena is raising money to get her lights fixed on the same car so she can drive her Medics where they need to go without unneeded Po’Lice harassment. To make a donation or just fix her lights for her, you can contact her at sharena43@gmail.com or contact us at POOR and we can get her a message. To suggest a mama or write a Superbabymama story contact us at deeandtiny@poormagazine.org. This wont be every month cause POOR is in fack Po'. SuperbabyDaddyz we havent forgotten about you. Stay Tuned! To read another SuperbabyMama story about Vivi T of POOR Magazine click here

As I came out of my mother’s womb she didn’t push me out. As a child I asked her how was my birth? and she told me I felt a hot sensation and she screamed because something was on fire. That was our first breath and my mom’s first set of twins. I was reared to be compassionate and loving, mentally dependent on my mother because she is my co-creator. For some reason, I’ve always thought whatever my mom’s pregnancy was like is also a reflection of me. And I made a bond with mom in the beginning from the first nine months.  My book is complicated, but everyone starts out helpless and dependent. It’s not necessarily a bad dependence, just the emotional bond you’re supposed to make for life. My Momma will do anything to take care of her children but as I write this story, it seems like a circle, which is the natural way of life: a loop.

            Yes, I came out of my mom who bonds us. but when I was young I put myself in a bubble of isolation.  I started hanging out on 24th and mission at ten years old. I never came home and was a run away for a couple of years. I went through different changes culturally, physically, and mentally. I ended up kicking it with Cholas to hanging out in Hunters Point, making friends with the wrong people. I was even banned from my school.  I would not only recruit people from my school to cut class, but other schools as well. We would cut school and kick it. My dad whooped me every night for years and I never broke down, I would even fight back. My Father, Mother, and Step Dad gave up on me, but I started studying Malcolm X and I practiced his consciousness. After I read his book in two days I changed, but I was still independent and never home with family

            As a teenager, I thought I was boss, and I wanted to sleep over at everybody’s house, mostly my home girls’ houses, and do my own thing. The crisis came when my friends, who I kicked it with and grew up with, turned on me. I hit the floor headfirst feeling like I couldn’t get myself back up, like I was kicked in the face, but the most miraculous thing was… I became dependent. I took care of myself but I got close to my family at twenty-one. I feel bad to this day because I never knew how blessed I really was when adulthood came. My family could have kicked me to the curb because of what I put my them through but the opposite happened.

            As I was experiencing my nervous breakdown, keeping it one hundred, the only person who visited me was my immediate family and my cousin who everybody makes fun of because she is severely disabled. She was my strongest support. I called my one best friend while in psychosis and she told me to call her back.I had to think a lot as well as get medicated with some rest. I realized my family is all I got in this world. And I am blessed to have a Mother who cares about me with a responsible Father. I think, damn my dad took care of three kids at thirty by himself being dark skinned and around people who were never close to his culture or life. He worked on the bottom of a company with all Asians and slept in the living room half his life so we can have rooms of our own.

Now that I think about that I realized I can barely take care of myself and my dad did it alone with no help. Mom was sick. After I was older in adulthood is when I found out why momma used to shake, pace up and down the halls, cry, and sleep a lot. She was considered too sick to take care of her kids. I hated that and maybe that’s what contributed to my isolation at a young age. My worst crisis felt like millions of people stabbing me in the heart, but the light came when my mom and I got hella tight.

 Now I am following the way indigenous people used to practice, Family First. I feel guilty for fucking up my parents’ life but I realize now what I have. I changed my ways by doing all that I can to stay tight with my parents, twin, and brother. My Mom gave me life and my cycle of life ended up positive because I learned how to be with the family that god gave me and that’s all I care about now.

”Notice of eviction: 30 days to vacate premises”, a neon yellow piece of paper pinned to the front door broadcasted down the block. In that moment, standing outside on the cold pavement street looking in, I realized this could soon be home.

This must be a mistake, I rationalize to myself, it’s probably just a mix up; maybe if I circle the block it will be gone when I get back. My fingers are already dialing before my brain can grasp the situation.

”Hey Dad, there’s an important notice from the landlord posted on our door; is he kicking us out?” I asked hesitantly.

Regardless of what the answer was, I didn’t blame or feel ashamed of my dad for a second. Making a living as a self-employed painter in San Diego, where the job market around manual labor is particularly competitive, can be constant hustle. Sure there’s plenty of work in Southern California, especially with the construction business picking up again. The only problem is, the modest wage my dad has earned for years, cannot compete with the cheap labor available so close to the border. We tried to compensate by collecting food stamps or welfare, but since my dad has worked off the books for so long, we weren’t eligible for a penny nor would they lift a finger to provide us with something to eat. Instead, the IRS picked a random number, put a dollar sign in front of it, and demanded it be paid before we would receive any government crumbs. Needless to say, my dad hadn’t found stable work in a while, and it was catching up to us.

The disappointment in his voice confirmed it, “I’m sorry kiddo, you know I’ve tried hard to round up any work I can”. ”Don’t worry hun”, he assured, I’ll figure something out, you just do your best to stay focused on school”.

His voice became distant, and even though I was fully clothed sweatshirt and all, I felt exposed to the elements. Maybe if I didn’t insist on dessert, or run the washing machine during the times I’m suppose to conserve energy, then maybe we could’ve put up a Christmas tree this month instead of ringing in the new year in my 91’ Volvo parked next to the sewage plantation where the police are less likely to hassle us.

Day 23 of 30 quickly approached, and we still had no plan of action, no place to go and a fist full of Washington and Lincolns. My dad was behaving like a teenage girl about to spill the news of her pregnancy to her parents, as he swallowed his pride and made a call to his mom and dad.

”Hi Mom”, my dad began, “I’m okay, I’m actually calling to chat with you about our financial situation”.

The long pause followed by my dad’s silence and occasional eye twitch suggested the conversation would be a heavy one. My dad excused himself from the room and I didn’t see him again until dinner. Nothing further was discussed on the matter until the next evening when my dad received an unexpected call from his sister.

He answered the phone only to be remain silent for the next few minutes.

”What are you talking about?”, my dad finally blurts. “Report us for senior abuse!” ,he continues, ”When did asking your parents to lend you money become a form of maltreatment!” .

My aunt continues to voice her concerns about how we are leaning too heavily on my grandparents and how we should be ashamed of our failure, but no one empathized with our situation and the reality my dad and I soon faced. A week  from now, my aunt will arrive home to be greeted by a warm fire place rather than a final notice to vacate the premises, while my dad and I will officially become houseless.

No Existe el Sueño Americano

Casi suelto el telefono cuando mi madre me dice que me siente porque la noticia que me va a dar no es nada agradable.

 “Tienes que ser fuerte, tu hija esta embarazada” dijo mi madre en el telefono desde Guatemala.

Desgraciadamente en nuestra cultura esten o no esten con sus padres, las jovencitas estan teniendo bebes con tan solo de 15 a 17 años en todo el mundo como si estubieran ciegas que piensan que el ser mama es todo en la vida y no ven acia el futuro sin no que se estancan en un solo lugar. Y asi siguen, y siguen, y siguen las generaciones.

Como en mi caso sali de mi casa con la ilucion de trabajar dos o tres años en los estados unidos y regresar y hacer my casa. Mi corazon se sentia como si le clavaran mil abujas pues estaba separandome de lo que mas amo en la vida, mis hijos. Pero no pense que el tiempo corriera tan recio como el tren que transvia a los migrantes hacia el norte. Hoy, despues de diez anos veo que el tiempo me gano. Aun no he hecho mi casa en Guatemala. Pensaba regresar en Octubre del año que viene, 2014 a la graduacion de mis hijos. Hable con mis otros  hijos  en Guatemala y llegamos en un acuerdo que cuando yo regresara yo construiria la casa.

Aun que tenga mi familia en Guatemala, solamente con mi mama puedo contar. Lamentablemente ella se encuentra enferma y es por eso que no he podido construir my propia casa.  

Hace un mes hable con mis hijos  para saber como  estaban en sus estudios.  Ellos  me dijeron  que  estaban bien  en sus calificaciones .Yo estaba feliz porque estaban sacando el Segundo basico. Pero tres dias despues recibi una llamada de mi Segundo hijo en Guatemala. Me dijo “ Mama pongale mucho dinero a su telefono porque mi abuelita quiere hablar con usted” Ese momento senti que Corazon se me salia por la boca y se me deshacian las piernas. Con las manos temblorosas, le regrese la llamada.

“Te dije que no le dieras estudio a tu hija porque las mujeres no sirben meterlas a la escuela porque lo primero que hacen es buscar marido o salir embarazadas”

dijo mi mama enojada y triste. En ese  momento  llore porque  yo si creo que el estudio vale la pena sea hombre  o mujer. Pero desgraciadamente yo no puedo controlar la vida de mis hijos  y menos estando lejos. Por eso pienso que el sueño Americano  es una mentira pues  en ves de ganar, perdi  lo mas valioso  de mi vida mis hijos.  Hoy en vez de risas, solo tengo llantos pues tengo 10 años sin ver a mis tres hijos en Guatemala.

Ellos estan dolidos  por muchas cosas que les han sucedido y yo no estoy ahi para defenderlos.  Y esto que me esta pasando le pasa a toda mi raza indocumentada.

Yo no sabia que la vida y el tiempo me estaban ganando.

The American Dream does not Exist

I almost dropped the phone when my mother tells me to have a seat because the news she is about to give me is not pleasant at all.

"You need to be strong, your daughter is pregnant" said my mother on the other end of the line calling from Guatemala.

Sadly in our culture, whether daughters are with or without their parents, they are having their own children at the age of 15 & 17 throughout the world as if they were blind and would think that being a mother is all there is to life. They don't plan according to their future but rather they sink themselves in one solid location. From then on, generations continue this cycle.

Such as in my case, i left my home with the illusion that I would be working two of three years in the united states. Then, I would return home and build my home. My hear felt as though one thousand pins had punctured, being that i was separating myself from what i love most in life, my children. But i didnt think that time would pass as fast as the train that transports migrants toward the north. Today, after ten years i see that time has beat me. My home still has not been built in Guatemala. I planned to have returned in October of the coming year, 2014 to the graduation of my children. I had spoken to my other children in Guatemala and we had come to an agreement that when I returned I would build the house.

Although I have family in Guatemala, I am only able to count with my mother. Sadly, she is sick which is why I have not been able to construct my own house.

A month ago I spoke to my children to find out how they were doing in school. They told me they were doing well. I was happy because they were progressing in middle school. But three days later I received a phone call from my second son in Guatemala. He said "mom, put a lot of money on your phone because my grandma is wants to speak to you". At that moment I felt hat my heart was escaping through my mouth. My legs were collapsing. My my trembling hands, I returned the phone call. " I told you! you shouldn't have given your daughter the opportunity to study. Girls are no good for school because the first thing they do is look for a husband or turn out pregnant” said my mom with a voice of disapproval. At that moment I cried because I do believe that going to school is worth the struggle regardless of the gender. Sadly, I do not have the ability to control the life of my children, much less that they are far away. That is why I believe that the American dream is a lie; instead of gaining, I am losing what I value most in life, my children. Today, instead of laughter, I only have cries being that I have ten years without being able to see my three children in Guatemala.

They are very hurt by the infinite amount of things they have been through and I have not been able to be there to defend them. And what my family and I are going through, happens to all of our undocumented communities.

I was not aware that life and time were winning

To listen to the Radio Segment go to http://www.poormagazine.org/radio

(Photo by The Visibility Project)

KHN: What is your definition of Trans Justice and how can the disability and brown communities put it in practice not only in organizations but also in their homes and art/music?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: I’m still learning how trans justice and disability justice are inextricably linked. Transgender People of Color as well as Queer people’s needs in the U.S. are being privatized, without our consent. Trans people and particularly transgender women of Color are being murdered and killed in ways that are inhuman and unacceptable. Access to housing, work, education, and health care, are ultimately systemically space. The support TPOC deserve isn’t up to our own decisions but disturbingly impacted by systems like healthcare and housing that don’t vouch for our best interests. According to the Trans Justice Funding Project, they support, “…the leadership of trans people organizing around their experiences with racism, economic injustice, transmisogyny, ableism, immigration, incarceration, and other intersecting oppressions.”

According to recent, albeit conservative statistics, people with disabilities are twice as likely to be unemployed than able-bodied population. Transgender people are twice as likely to be unemployed than the rest of the population. It’s obvious that work opportunities for brown people are limited and scarce. Our sheer survival as Transgender disabled people of color is at stake in every avenue we travel. Systemic institutions flourish in our failing, in our lack of coalition, in our lack of compassion for one another--- divide and conquer, homey! We face isolation and grief with state violence on several fronts. Whatever is considered real or normal, transgender and disabled people inescapably confront and counter those paradigms personally and publicly.

In your home and art, consider who can actually engage with your work. Who visits the most and why? Who is your audience and why? Are there trends of normalized or limited ways of examining relationships, politics, love, and your physical space?

To see a growing list of individuals and organizations committed to Trans Justice in the U.S., please see this list compiled by the Trans Justice Funding Project: http://www.transjusticefundingproject.org/grantees/

KHN: What do you think of the work of Sins Invalid and Disability Justice?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: I think thank Sins Invalid has brought a complex gaze at loving and surviving as a disabled person in ways that haven’t been on the fore before. I feel like there is a distinct and dire need for productions and cultural work like Sins Invalid that celebrates the ways in which queer, brown, and disabled confront society and love us. SI turns activism and desire in all kinds of necessary directions that disabled people deserve and live everyday.

Disability Justice is woefully turning into a newer buzzword I am noticing by able-bodied supremacists to gunk the lineage and efforts of people who’ve been doing the work (please see aforementioned answer re: allyship). Actual disability justice from my understanding and based on what I’ve learned, stems from a complex and multi-dimensional approach of how we fundamentally envision and enact social change. Undoing the shame, the ugly, and the belittlement trusted disabled people; it demands that we envelop our whole selves as political and as politically impacted. It challenges the trust in laws (vs. Disability Rights) and white people to save us. This means engaging in the expertise and the lives of people who face multiple oppressions specifically people with various (mental, physical, cognitive, chronic pain, et. al.) abilities. These communities are invested in taking back power that systemically is denied to them. Disability justice strives for a nuanced realization that “normal” is a farce and that ableism is detrimental on all fronts and for all communities. It’s not separate but interacts with racism, sexism, poverty, queer antagonism, trans violence, incarceration, and anti-immigrant violence. If we can interrogate how we are taught to shame, blame, and victim-blame one another for injustice, we can then really embrace how Disability Justice is for those of us who exist in the margins. None of our love, our histories, our bodies, or the ways in which we think are normal and despite what systemic oppression tells us, that is nothing to be ashamed of. As Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha has pointedly asked in workshops, “What are our disability and our sick stories? Where have we existed and where is our lineage?”

KHN: One of my pet peeves is police brutality, hate crimes and wrongful incarceration against people especially Brown people with disabilities. In your activism and your communities have there been talks and action on this matter? And have you used your cultural work to shine a light on this issue?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: I come from a poor-working brown family of immigrants and children of immigrants many of whom who were chronically ill and in pain. The little possibilities people of my ilk could get were either joining the military or considering the police force. Policing my body as a poor brown person began early on. As a queer and transgender (formerly homeless & kicked out youth) brown person, being gender profiled along with witnessing Black and Immigrant people being even more racially profiled, the systemic animosity is evident. If you aren’t coerced to be behind the gun, you are a target in the line of fire, so to speak. Injustice all around. I firmly believe that police brutality against Trans People of Color and Disabled People of Color is blatant racism, trans antagonistic, and able-ist. There’s not much else to say about that. I don’t rely on these systems to protect us. The systems are only reinforcing pipelines to prison for specific communities. White and middle-class Trans people are not as affected. White and middle-class Disabled people are not as affected. Who does that leave then? I have skin and shade privilege, I’m American, I’m a walkie with a cane, and therefore the implications for me are different. I feel as though POC and QTPOC skim the surface of disabled people being impacted, but ableism in NYC is intense. I will say I have been targeted or harassed by cops more as a brown trans gender non-conforming disabled guy. All my identities coalesce in institutional ways leave me more vulnerable. I’m noticing how even non-mainstream climates paved by hip and ancestral wellness is about fixing and not embracing disability in QTPOC communities. Disability is a tragedy or a plight if anything, and still, sameness of normalized able-bodied people is the standard of those impacted. I’ve noticed and have been informed outright, that people/org’s disability awareness is shit. When I’ve inquired about disability justice in anti-stop & frisk or anti-police brutality east coast activism, it’s been mentioned that, “…we just don’t have any analysis and not many disabled members.” As you of all people know Leroy, the POC communities are able-bodied dominated by able-bodied stories and few POC disabled community are concretely strategizing because of so much impact, incarceration, and isolation.

KHN: What is your advice for young activists/cultural workers who holds or don’t holds all of your identities?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: There’s stigma in being an artist. There’s stigma in being a political activist. Now that you’ve chosen to be both, be keen on your worth at all costs. Do the work you want to do. We all understand compromises for food and getting paid. You are fancy and some people just don’t get it yet, which is fine. You are an innovator, a lover of your communities, and the crafts you’ve inherited. You aren’t the first or the only; people had work to do before you were even the breath of syllable. Honor those people because with kindness you never know what will come your way. Get a mentor or five. Get peers and colleagues who’ll feed you when you’re hungry and tell you with humor and love when your shit isn’t gold. Be blessed to receive and give a love that honest. Also, if you’re young and your bravado is something that comes off as pure ego, seek people to love you for the rest of the stuff. They will stay with you when the stages come down and when the check might not come. They will cradle you when the police get at you or when the doctors blame you into demolition. They will mourn your dissonance and realize how valid you are. Beware of those who only want your shine, they might dehumanize you worse than any critic. If you stick to your initiative on your terms and terms that do right by those who believe in you, then no matter what the outcome is, you’ll be proud, I think. I’ve been told so many times and said just as frequently, the whole world wants to beat you into dust and I know it’s exhausting, demeaning, that some days due to pain or loneliness (likely both) you can’t get out of bed. Please try to remember, having volition in your cultural work and in striving for justice takes a loving patience for you and those around you. Give yourself that. I’m still working on it, that’s no lie. Lastly, stop being a hero and lay the fuck down with some snacks whenever the opportunity strikes. You are a glorious advocate for your needs and body and spirit. That’s just as cute. If someone tells you otherwise, they aren’t your people.

KHN: What do you think about Def Poetry Jam and all of these contests like the Voice & American Idol?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: I have a confession. I’m Pin@y. Due to elitism and Spanish colonization in Pilipino culture, during my youth I was a product of the beauty pageant. That’s what competitions like that remind me of. I’ve been frequently been asked that. Mainstream digestion of poetry, specifically hyped up models of People of Color have ridden on the wagons of corporate hype machines that mainly skim the guts of cultural work and poetry are in the U.S. I know several people, who compromised on their identities, their work, some POC disabled people who were choreographed certain ways as to not expose their disabilities. What does that do to us but adhere to idealistic principals of meritocracy that fails those of us who don’t get the big breaks? I once got to audition for a televised contest once? The dude coordinator didn’t invite me, but invited a cisgender femme friend of mine at the time despite one of the cis woman producer’s recommendations of my work. He didn’t hear any of her work in advance; he didn’t know her at all but was familiar with my work. Obviously, his lady gazing and misogyny for gender conforming woman was C/V enough. Would she have landed a spot on the show? Who knows, but for disgustingly apparent reasons, she had been offered a gesture, possibly a farce of a gesture, but still. I was the only Queer Person of Color at the time, alongside one other disabled Queer Black Man. The sum total of my feedback was thus: “We really liked your poems (so thought-provoking!), but we’re not sure how your work will fit. The producers (straight cis men of color in hip-hop) were having trouble grasping your material. Do you have a poem that primarily discusses the issues you face being gay or can you talk mainly about your experiences with racism?” This shows two things: You have to just pick one, was the imperative. Secondly, who is at the table making decisions? Competitions like those accentuate a winner of all the gold and glory. See, I don’t buy that those who didn’t win didn’t work hard enough, weren’t good enough. The posture of entertainment models invests in the individual narrative of hard work, on one person’s story being the lotto ticket. Of course, it’s necessary and exciting to see one of ours up on that stage, but there’s still a hip factor that underscores the cameras, the poem, the crowd.

KHN: Give us some of the hottest poets that are Trans men of color and have you met any other Trans men of color with a disability that are poets like yourself?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: I think that much of what is publicly known as Transgender art isn’t very People of Color centered and frequently comprised of skinny, white, middle-class privileged, able-bodied, medically transitioned, and often times binary gender assumed people, mostly Trans men. That’s correct, I went there. Even brown queer and transgender art prioritizes the fit and the muscular, because our bodies have been so ridiculed that any exposure is seen as an ascendance. Bodies so ridiculed that any praise though liminal is an unquestionable win. Invisibility is insipid and we’re out there, doing our thing, but homies not getting the roar because we’re coordinating multiple avenues that assess, calculate, chop, and diminish our daily worth. There are probably many Transgender and Gender Non-Conforming artists with disabilities I haven’t had the pleasure to know because resources for us on a basic level are obscenely difficult. Also, some people may not disclose if they have invisible disabilities or chronic pain out of community shame. After all, masculine vulnerability isn’t necessarily seen as a virtue especially if it entails the thoughtful interdependence required with disabled/crip/krip/PWD. If housing, police brutality, jobs, medical industrial complex, and safe transportation are incessant struggles, our art and strategic ways of existence are not given the exposure we deserve. We sprout gorgeous from systems of vapid ridicule. There are some Transgender Women of Color whose artistic and political work I find remarkable like Ryka Aoki, Reina Gossett, and Bamby Salcedo. Currently, I appreciate the work of trans POC writers/poet Amir Rabiyah, plus the newer insights of Ngọc Loan Trần and Fabian Romero.

KHN: How can we/I be better allies?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: What happened, you didn’t get the manual? Uh oh. That manual was probably written, published, and sold by a cis person or a white person who is profiting big time. That joke went too far. Anyway, I feel there isn’t one perfect equation to becoming the model ally. The terms “ally” and “solidarity” is elusive these days. Honestly, I hardly know anyone (this includes myself) who doesn’t struggle with their privilege. Better allies can realize that taking up space is harmful and disastrous. Supposed allies that have stalk in participation have to realize that there’s a history of colonization in hat participation. Attention: Oppressed and struggling communities do not have any more cookies to give you for self-aggrandizement. This includes cis queer communities. This includes white people with disabilities who puncture disability rights as a primarily white person’s dilemma. I ask myself and ask others, “Who’s missing? Who’s not being represented?” and always ask “Why?” There’s this myth that allyship, then solidarity is by self-proclamation or by a big shiny blingy badge that says, “ALLY.” I think to myself, every time an ally gets props or worse off paid doing work in communities they don’t belong, a trans brown disabled unicorn looses it’s shimmer. To be clear, by shimmer I mean, access to opportunity and resources. To be an ally means that you have something to give up that was never yours to begin with. Some of us being impacted in multiple communities didn’t ask for your allyship or solidarity. There’s incredible work before those terms that has to happen. I wouldn’t make assumptions about any given community. I’ve also noticed a trend of the listing. By stating all the identities like: race, class, gender, sexual orientation, ability, size, nation of origin, etc. doesn’t equate real allied work and coalition. It means you might get it intellectually, but at the heart of your work there’s lacking, and that’s okay just don’t find your naming as the end game. No, we are all not Trayvon, all undocumented immigrants, or all Palestinian. Identities are not about touting a struggle without the real life ramifications. That’s just appropriation. I find a trend of embellishment that involves inclusion on a flier or mission statement, but when it comes to intimate or personal work of understanding deep-seated ramifications of say, ableism and able-ist supremacy or cissexual supremacy, people confuse analysis for having stellar daily interaction. Frankly, I have no interest in whom you’ve read or what token disabled person or transgender person you have at your headlining event if you only opt for politics of recognition. Inclusion is great (Get that cookie!), but what about a complete re-thinking? What about true self-determination?

KHN: What are your next projects and where can people follow your work?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: Check out my online swerve at KAYBARRETT.NET. My latest projects include working on a piece for an anthology called Criptiques and being published in various People of Color, Transgender, and Queer centered anthologies. I was recently nominated for an award by the MOTHA: The Museum of Transgender Hirstory and Art, so we’ll see how that goes. Most crucially, I’m booking for Spring 2014 and Fall 2014 to speak at your organization, school, university, and college. Recently, I’ve been speaking for a few organizations and classes via Skype and Google Video. If people want to book disabled and chronically ill people, don’t just read about our experiences but hire us. Consider accessibility as far as travel difficulty and book organizations like Sins Invalid to speak to you about their analysis, actions, and experiences live!

KHN: Any last words, any thing did I miss?

Kay Ulanday Barrett: Nah, I think we’re good! Big thanks to you Leroy and Krip-Hop Nation. I’m humbled by your work and love it! Shouts out to the following: my homies out there surviving all kinds of systemic mess and making that art; to those who know nourishment has nothing to do with shame; to the sick & the achy cultural workers; the complex peoples who no one exactly gets; the chubby and chunky nerdy kids; the wobbly dapper guys who aren’t your quintessential dudes; the diaspora brown mama’s bois; the transmasculine survivors of state and intimate partnership violence; to those whose work, like Sins Invalid, laid it down for me to be this feisty.

Check Kay out http://www.kaybarrett.net/

No Existe el Sueño Americano

Casi suelto el telefono cuando mi madre me dice que me siente porque la noticia que me va a dar no es nada agradable.

 “Tienes que ser fuerte, tu hija esta embarazada” dijo mi madre en el telefono desde Guatemala.

Desgraciadamente en nuestra cultura esten o no esten con sus padres, las jovencitas estan teniendo bebes con tan solo de 15 a 17 años en todo el mundo como si estubieran ciegas que piensan que el ser mama es todo en la vida y no ven acia el futuro sin no que se estancan en un solo lugar. Y asi siguen, y siguen, y siguen las generaciones.

Como en mi caso sali de mi casa con la ilucion de trabajar dos o tres años en los estados unidos y regresar y hacer my casa. Mi corazon se sentia como si le clavaran mil abujas pues estaba separandome de lo que mas amo en la vida, mis hijos. Pero no pense que el tiempo corriera tan recio como el tren que transvia a los migrantes hacia el norte. Hoy, despues de diez anos veo que el tiempo me gano. Aun no he hecho mi casa en Guatemala. Pensaba regresar en Octubre del año que viene, 2014 a la graduacion de mis hijos. Hable con mis otros  hijos  en Guatemala y llegamos en un acuerdo que cuando yo regresara yo construiria la casa.

Aun que tenga mi familia en Guatemala, solamente con mi mama puedo contar. Lamentablemente ella se encuentra enferma y es por eso que no he podido construir my propia casa.  

Hace un mes hable con mis hijos  para saber como  estaban en sus estudios.  Ellos  me dijeron  que  estaban bien  en sus calificaciones .Yo estaba feliz porque estaban sacando el Segundo basico. Pero tres dias despues recibi una llamada de mi Segundo hijo en Guatemala. Me dijo “ Mama pongale mucho dinero a su telefono porque mi abuelita quiere hablar con usted” Ese momento senti que Corazon se me salia por la boca y se me deshacian las piernas. Con las manos temblorosas, le regrese la llamada.

“Te dije que no le dieras estudio a tu hija porque las mujeres no sirben meterlas a la escuela porque lo primero que hacen es buscar marido o salir embarazadas”

dijo mi mama enojada y triste. En ese  momento  llore porque  yo si creo que el estudio vale la pena sea hombre  o mujer. Pero desgraciadamente yo no puedo controlar la vida de mis hijos  y menos estando lejos. Por eso pienso que el sueño Americano  es una mentira pues  en ves de ganar, perdi  lo mas valioso  de mi vida mis hijos.  Hoy en vez de risas, solo tengo llantos pues tengo 10 años sin ver a mis tres hijos en Guatemala.

Ellos estan dolidos  por muchas cosas que les han sucedido y yo no estoy ahi para defenderlos.  Y esto que me esta pasando le pasa a toda mi raza indocumentada.

Yo no sabia que la vida y el tiempo me estaban ganando.

The American Dream does not Exist

I almost dropped the phone when my mother tells me to have a seat because the news she is about to give me is not pleasant at all.

"You need to be strong, your daughter is pregnant" said my mother on the other end of the line calling from Guatemala.

Sadly in our culture, whether daughters are with or without their parents, they are having their own children at the age of 15 & 17 throughout the world as if they were blind and would think that being a mother is all there is to life. They don't plan according to their future but rather they sink themselves in one solid location. From then on, generations continue this cycle.

Such as in my case, i left my home with the illusion that I would be working two of three years in the united states. Then, I would return home and build my home. My hear felt as though one thousand pins had punctured, being that i was separating myself from what i love most in life, my children. But i didnt think that time would pass as fast as the train that transports migrants toward the north. Today, after ten years i see that time has beat me. My home still has not been built in Guatemala. I planned to have returned in October of the coming year, 2014 to the graduation of my children. I had spoken to my other children in Guatemala and we had come to an agreement that when I returned I would build the house.

Although I have family in Guatemala, I am only able to count with my mother. Sadly, she is sick which is why I have not been able to construct my own house.

A month ago I spoke to my children to find out how they were doing in school. They told me they were doing well. I was happy because they were progressing in middle school. But three days later I received a phone call from my second son in Guatemala. He said "mom, put a lot of money on your phone because my grandma is wants to speak to you". At that moment I felt hat my heart was escaping through my mouth. My legs were collapsing. My my trembling hands, I returned the phone call. " I told you! you shouldn't have given your daughter the opportunity to study. Girls are no good for school because the first thing they do is look for a husband or turn out pregnant” said my mom with a voice of disapproval. At that moment I cried because I do believe that going to school is worth the struggle regardless of the gender. Sadly, I do not have the ability to control the life of my children, much less that they are far away. That is why I believe that the American dream is a lie; instead of gaining, I am losing what I value most in life, my children. Today, instead of laughter, I only have cries being that I have ten years without being able to see my three children in Guatemala.

They are very hurt by the infinite amount of things they have been through and I have not been able to be there to defend them. And what my family and I are going through, happens to all of our undocumented communities.

I was not aware that life and time were winning

To listen to the Radio Segment go to http://www.poormagazine.org/radio

To: District Attorney Jill Ravitch

From:CA Statewide Coalition Against Police Brutality A California Campaign to STOP Police Brutality Communities United Against Police Brutality (CUAPB)/POOR Magazine/Prensa POBRE

Re: Murder of Andy Lopez

Dear Ms. Ravitch, We demand that Erick Gelhaus is charged immediately for the murder of Andy Lopez.

It is an abomination that the police are allowed to investigate themselves. When Santa Rosa PD investigates the Sonoma County Sheriff & then the Sonoma County Sheriff investigates the Santa Rosa PD those 2 departments are not conducting “independent” investigations. When there is no 3rd party doing an entire investigation then the people cannot rely on the information being complete or untainted.

We are aware that there were witnesses that the police never interviewed, there have been witnesses that have been harassed after speaking to the media and there are other citizens stepping forward about the mental state of Erick Gelhaus.

Additionally, with Erick Gelhaus’ obsession with guns and preparing for “war zones”, we have a plethora of information that suggest that he premeditated killing in the line of duty and knew the importance of being able to “articulate” to his superiors how he felt he was in “fear of his life” in order to get away with murder if need be.

Andy Lopez was given LESS than 10 seconds to understand what was happening and comply, no reasonable person believes that he was fully aware of the situation.

Andy Lopez is dead and we are disgusted at law enforcements tactics of demonizing this boy. He was a boy being a boy, playing with toys, walking in his own neighborhood. Our efforts to protect this child and his family from this slander will not cease. This behavior by the Sonoma County is terrorism.

We will not allow blatant murder to happen at the hands of law enforcement, a badge is not a license to kill and it does not grant extra rights.

On February 1, 1960 four young black men took seats at a Woolworth’s segregated lunch counter in Greensboro, NC – by July of that year Woolworth’s integrated all of its stores. Like Rosa Parks resisted and like Cesar Chavez organized. So will the movement behind Andy Lopez. We will not allow this murder to go unanswered for. If an indictment of penal code 187, murder is not filed against Erick Gelhaus those responsible will answer to the people.

We await you doing the right thing,

CA Statewide Coalition Against Police Brutality A California Campaign to STOP Police Brutality Communities United Against Police Brutality (CUAPB)/POOR Magazine/Prensa POBRE

My hands caressed the edges of the Coors can – it was softer than the 211 can, almost like velvet.  And unlike the Coke, Pepsi, or Sprite cans, they were always empty when I found them. Tonight as I sorted my cans and bottles, one of the many ways this po’ displaced mama has survived through harder times, I prayed for all my brothers and sister poverty workers/ recyclers on the racist, classist streets.

“Cans not Condos, Cans NOT Condos!!! Cans Not Condo-Bill Gandy, Community Housing Partnership organizer

The most recent attack on the already broken and trying to mend backs of us po’ folks in what I am now affectionately calling GentriFUKation City is Safeway’s move to close all of its recycling centers that have been housed in their giant parking lots for years, providing a dire service to elder and disability worker-recyclers and mama, youth, and daddy recyclers just trying to bring in a few extra dollars to survive. (more after the jump)

Safeway reasoning: You only need glance across the street on Market near Church to witness the terra cotta encroachment of Whole Paycheck embedded in the ground floor of a new luxury condo being built, so nervous Safeway management deduces they need to look more bourgeois or die. The sad thing is, like my mama always said, trying to be something you are not will only result in your not being at all. The working-class population who relies on Safeway won’t change, but if Safeway joins the hater minions like Tech monsters Greg Gopman and Peter Shih who think we are all trash, and effectively helps to kick us out, they will just be killing their last grasp on a market-share, displacing their potential customers.

These insane and wrong-headed moves by Safeway follow closely on the heels of the closure of beautiful people-led, truly green HANC (Haight Ashbury Neighborhood Council) which prompted me to write a piece I called the new color of gentrification is green. 

What people never understand is, no matter how much they have embraced corporate statehood, or been numb to it and just signed up with the local corporate trash company, pseudo-corporate trash companies do not care about Mama Earth, your trash, bottles or your cans. It is a business for them, just like any other business. Whereas us poor peoples who meticulously sort through your corporate recycling can, trash cans, and waste bins, or the just clean up the streets, actually take pride in our work, actually, separate what is can and what is bottle, what is compost and what is landfill and do it very well. Which is why us Po’ workers and poverty scholars have led an ongoing campaign for years to recognize recyclers as independent contractors.

As a houseless child of a houseless poor, colonized Black/Indian mama, I have little or no regional loyalty. I am just humbly here, in the Bay Area, because this is where mama brought me as a child, and like most poor folks, I cannot afford to be anywhere else. I cannot and would not — like so many of these 21^st century tech colonizers and corporate carpet-baggers — move somewhere else even if I could, and with my uninvited presence displace the peoples who are there, creating laws, legislation, and commerce built to displace the peoples of origin.

So I remain, barely, holding on by a thread, post-evicted, post-gentrified, hoping to not get pushed out of the last corner of mold-filled, substandard housing me and my little family live in. I will fight to the end cause that’s how mama raised me and I will, along with my fellow revolutionary poverty scholars at POOR Magazine and the San Francisco BayView, tell the story of poverty, in my own voice, without the filter of middle-class academics, researchers, poltricksters or media-producers. All while trying to find a place that will redeem my CRV.

Please sign the petition to save the recycling centers-

Us, the Public, the Evicted— the Displaced, the Poor, The Working Class, — Speak Back

To The Tech Billionaires as They Release Their IPO (Initial Public Offering)

(Co-Editors Note- WeSearch© is poor people-led research created by POOR Magazine)

(English Follows)

“Yo pienso que eso del Twitter es solo de los ricos. Dia a dia crecen mas en sus bolsillos y por eso se estan aduenando de las casas de los terrenos que los pobres y los indocumentados no podemos comprar por que cada dia nos cierran las puertas. Pues como dice un dicho, el dinero es raiz de los males. Twitter dice se va a habrir una oportunidad para que investe pero no es verdad para nosotros los pobres. “

“I believe that Twitter is only for the rich. Day by day the money grows in their pockets and because of that they are taking ownership of the homes, the lands that the poor and the undocumented can’t even buy because everyday they close the doors on our faces. It’s like the saying goes: money is from the roots of evil. Twitter suggests it’s an opportunity to invest but that is not true for us poor people.”

-Ingrid de Leon/Poverty Migrante/Mama Skola

“November 7th I went outside the Twitter office. They are starting to incorporate their thing. One of the lies that the public relations person said is, “we have helped this City. As a poverty scholar, I know personally, that is not true. For the next ten years Twitter will not have to pay property taxes and they have been given an exclusive bus line. At the same time they are cutting bus lines in my community and other poor and elder communities. ”

-Bruce Allison/Poverty. Elder Skola

“Twitter will be offering IPOS for $17-$20 when the bell rings on the stock exchange the morning of November 7th. I, Braden Johnson, houseless youth dealing with poverty in the streets of San Francisco would like to know— where’s my IPO?? Twitter should just keep the stock options but use their extensive wealth to provide resources for the people in the community who cannot afford an IPO no matter how reasonably priced.”

-Braden Johnson/Youth Poverty Skola

“As a current low-income student who relies on public transportation to commute to San Francisco State University, I am appalled at the idea of a guaranteed bus line that ensures that twitter employees have a route to work during a time where the combination of an underfunded public education system and Bart strikes make it so students can barely get to school. If Twitter has truly “given the community incredible gifts”, they could share the wealth and take some of the millions they saved in tax breaks to give back to our schools. “

-Corinne Stricker/Poverty Skola-Mentee

“The economic boom continues in San Francisco and may further destructive practices that put profit over people. Today Twitter announced their release of an IPO on the Stock Exchange November 7th.. As a Mentee at Poor Magazine, I am not alone in feeling a fresh wave of fear from this news. As a recent transplant to San Francisco I am experiencing the high cost of living and witnessing the displacement of elderly and poor peoples. Perhaps creating public forums to address concerns and challenges is trivial on this timeline but voicing public response is critical.”

-Sasha/Mentee

“I have just heard the news that Twitter has received a 34 million tax break.  I sit in the Poor Magazine computer room, mulling over the news.  As a native New Yorker and recent college student, Twitter was merely a part of my internet life and lexicon, but today, studying under the tutelage of the Poverty Scholaz at POOR Magazine in San Francisco, this announcement takes on a whole new meaning. As a billion dollar corporation, whose headquarters are on Market Street in the City of San Francisco, Twitter’s actions have a severe impact on the city’s inhabitants. Twitter has been a major cause of recent evictions and rent raises for people in San Francisco.  And those hit the hardest are poor families, struggling to make ends meet.”

-Maia Nikitovich/Mentee

#ThrownOutByTwitter

Krip-Hop Nation (KHN) – You are from the birthplace of Hip-Hop, South Bronx and you are a Hip-Hop artist with disability. Tell us what was the Bronx like for people with disabilities when you were growing up.

Namel TapWaterz Norris - First off one of the things that I'm most proud of as a hip hop artist is the fact I was born and raised in the Boogie down Bronx the Bx, the birth place of hip hop. It's an honor for me and something that can never be taking a way from me. The thing about being a artist with a disability from the Bronx is that I wasn't born with a disability so I know the best of both worlds as an artist and Bronx native. And given the fact my injury happened in the BX as well as my partner Rick's and then we met after the fact living in the same neighborhood in the Bronx. So essentially the Bronx is the birthplace of Hip-Hop and 4 Wheel City. With that being said we had to go thru and still going thru a lot of the struggles that Hip-Hop went thru itself when it started. We had to become very independent, record on our on and do a lot networking on our own because a lot of people didn't believe two guys in wheel chairs could do anything or be accepted or successful no matter how talented we are. Hip-Hop went thru the same struggles when it first started out. Now it’s all over the world and accepted by all ages and races similar to us now. We are getting accepted and traveling all over the world with our music and disabilities and it started in the BX.

KHN: Tell us about the mission of 4Wheel City in your community and beyond.

Namel TapWaterz Norris - The mission of 4 Wheel City in our community is to inspire, educate, advocate, and entertain. We have several communities we do that for first and for most are our fellow people with spinal cord injuries and with all types of disabilities. In addition to that we also try to serve as advocates for Hip-Hop music, the Bronx, New York where we come from, minorities and young black men as well. Our whole goal across the board is to inspire people to never give up, and break down barriers for all the communities and people we represent.

KHN: What is the difference in the Bronx now compare the golden days of Hip-Hop in the late 80’s and 90’s?

Namel TapWaterz Norris - I think the biggest difference now is the essence of Hip-Hop has changed or disappeared. When I was growing up in the Bx and wanted to be a rapper it was about having the skill set and the enjoyment of sharing and building with your peers. Now a days most rappers just want to rap cause they think its cool or want to be on TV and make money. Which is nothing wrong with that but back in those days rappers were more iconic like super heroes and had their own identities and were respected for their lyrics not how many records they sale. I remember when in order to say you were a rapper back then and to get in the studio you had to be good and prove it in a cypher or battle. Nowadays with the progress of digital technology and social media it's not like that anymore. Now anyone can say they are a rapper and go thru the motions and put them self out there. There are no more cyphers or development of the skill set or respect of the history.

KHN: Do you think Hip-Hop history includes disabled history/artists?

Namel TapWaterz Norris - Not really and not yet, but I can say that it has come a long way with the Internet being a big reason for that. Since my partner Rick and I have started 4 Wheel City like 7 years ago we have seen and met a lot of disabled artist. And have been recognized by several Hip-Hop entities like The Source magazine and XXL magazine. And have also been nominated for a Justo's Mixtape Award and the Underground Music Awards twice. Haven't won yet but it feels good to be recognized and paid homage to. However we are still waiting and working towards our big break in the industry. So the struggle still continues for all artist with disabilities.

KHN: The South Bronx today is it better for people with disabilities and from your viewpoints what needs to work on for people with disabilities?

Namel TapWaterz Norris - The south Bronx is getting better for people with disabilities as is every place else in the world. A lot of new transportation, construction and more places being built in compliance with the ADA. But still more work needs to be done. There are still no accessible taxis in Bx or the other boroughs like there is in Manhattan. Still a lot of curbs that need cut outs. And those are the things we are fighting for and speaking about in our song "Welcome to 4 Wheel City". It was created born and raised in Bx just like our movement.

KHN: What is your feeling on Hip-Hop Journalism as a Hip-Hop artist with a disability?

Namel TapWaterz Norris - As I stated earlier we been featured in XXL and the Source magazines two of hip hops most biggest and popular publications. That was a big deal for us just as artist period aside from being disabled, because they came looking for us. For that fact I'm a lil bias toward those magazines. But overall most Hip-Hop publications and journalism are like any other news media outlets, they are looking for the next story that will catch their readers attention or ready to hop on the band wagon of what's hot. We don't take it personal, we just keep rolling and making our own moves and hopefully they catch up with us. But can say overall I can't complain personally because 4 Wheel City story has been written about in many other news papers, magazines, and online publications and the majority of them respect our talent as Hip- Hop artists as much as do our disabilities.

KHN: What is next for 4Wheel City

Namel TapWaterz Norris - More shows, more videos, more music, more money, more changing people lives for the better. I have a solo mixtape coming out, we have our latest mixtape Motivation Music popping right now, touring high schools to promote a new song we made for Peer Mediation programs, have performer at James Madison coming up, the clothing line and still working on the documentary and new website

KHN: Any last words?

Namel TapWaterz Norris - Not much just want to thank everyone who has been following and supporting us since the beginning and believe in us. We do this for y'all and won't stop so stay tuned! 4's Up!

They sat there. Eyes ahead or faced down, digital symbols from phones, I-pads and laptops scrolling across their eyeballs in the tinted light of their luxury transport bus.

It was an “Apple” bus. And it was filled. Every seat occupied by tech employees, the majority of whom were earning anywhere between $80-150,000 per year and up, recent transplants to a town they weren’t born, raised or invested in. and with their very presence, were displacing hundreds or possibly thousands of very poor, working poor, and even middle-class elders, families and children who could never begin to pay the increased rents now being asked, demanded and evicted for by greed-filled, landlords, and real estate spekkkulators.

There are mildly distinct differences for the buses of tech companies like Apple, Google, Yahoo and the Bio Tech giant Genentech. They form a collective of companies providing 21^st century carriages to shuttle the too-delicate for public transportation feet of  what I am now affectionately calling the gentryTechNation

For the last three weeks activists from many walks of life, including elders, disabled folks, communities of color, working poor and many white middle-class activists have begun stopping the buses at their illegal, non-paid for, “bus” stops, conveniently located in front of coffee houses or near BART stations or just in the neighborhoods they already gentriFUKEd.

But this is where it gets downright surreal. The protests and protestors aren’t abrasive or angry. In fact, they say things like Join Us – Get off the Bus! They are filled with the humble stories of elders and folks who will have nowhere to go once they are evicted, and yet, today in front of a booshie San Francisco coffee shop, in a MUNI bus stop, I witnessed not only complete disinterest from the passengers of the filled to capacity bus, but two more people right in the middle of the protest, pushed past the protestors and… Got On the Bus!…

All of which made me realize I need to write a simple guideline for the gentryTechNation who have obviously been built and made from the deepest message of race and class supremacist values, are so completely engaged in the pursuit of the mighty dolla and the subsequent hegemony of disinterest and the prestige of their trendy tech job that they have become completely bereft of even trace aspects of spirit, empathy, culture and consciousness. 

And for this you truly can’t completely blame them. They are told that they have achieved the ultimate in success in the stolen indigenous land called Amerikkka. Most of us are taught at the youngest ages to succeed means to make the most money, by any means necessary, no matter who gets hurt, how it lands on other peoples and who gets left behind. Throw in race and class privilege and unseen, multiple benefits, from this race, class privilege. Fear and hate of everything you don’t know or never knew and lies about security and safety created by the plantation, prisons and po’ lice and you have built a gentrytechnator. Peoples of the US and all of the places we have colonized with our media, wars, land and resource theft are also taught a whole gaggle of lies about the non-profit industrial complex savior complexes (give away some money every year at tax time or volunteer at a soup kitchen over the holidaze, or donate some of your old, broken down laptops or not cool anymore clothes to the Goodwill and you have “given Back”

So for all confused, befuddled, knowing in their gut that this just isn’t right, for all the tech CEO’s who are open to some real decolonization,  for all the peoples on those buses who entertained, if even for a minute, that they needed to in fact, Step off the Bus.. here is a short excerpt of Guru Tech-Decolonizers’ guide to Getting off the Google-Bus for Dummies:

1)    In a protest, and on any day, Get off the tech Bus- pick up a protest sign and begin saying your humble sorries for your oblivious role in the displacement of so many communities of origin of San Francisco, Oakland, Fremont and San Jose

2)    Take public transportation – no matter how “inconvenient” it is

3)    Send a text, email, tweet and pinterist, google+ msg and old skool phone call to the company you work for and ask them to stop running the buses.

4)    In the same digital streets listed above-ask your company to pay the several million dollars in tax breaks they stole from this city back to the city and that you will even take a $1,000 a year pay cut to support this give-back

5)    Spend a large percentage of your hoarded wealth (after you support your own family and parents if they are working class and need your help) to buy back the buildings so many of us poor peoples who have been evicted, so the thousands of elders can slowly be re-housed. Begin with the support and re-housing of Rene Yanez

6)    DO NOT MAKE AN APP to do any of this – just do it and tell your friends and family everything you do and ask them to support and join you in this walk of decolonization and change.

7)    Get involved yourself with financial support and as well ask your company to financially support the efforts to stop the genocidal Ellis Act.

8)    Ask your company to pay the City for the use of the Bus Stop and streets that it colonizes.

9)    Buy a Street Sheet or Street Spirit everyday and Read it

10) Give your bottles and cans to houseless peoples and elders who are recycling and ask Safeway to put their recycling centers back in

11) Ask Whole Foods to put in a public recycling center

12) Support the poor people-led, indigenous people-led grassroots media, art, and organizing movements that support the work and resistance of other poor and displaced people below is a short list

-The San Francisco Bay View Newspaper - & their work to ensure that African-American residents of the Bayview are employed in ALL housing construction

-The Kenny Harding Foundation

-Peoples Community Medics

-Manilatown Heritage Foundation and the I-Hotel

-Healthy Hoods

-Black Riders Liberation Party - Oakland

-WRAP (Western Regional Advocacy Project)

-The Coalition on Homelessness

-the Brown Berets

-POOR Magazine/Prensa POBRE

-Idriss Stelley Foundation

-City College of San Francisco

-PODER

-Save Sacred Sites

-Longest Walk 4

-Reparations Movement for African Peoples in Diaspora

      10) Give Financial Support to landless peoples movements in taking back land locally and globally to house houseless peoples and support poor folks of color

-United Playaz- San Francisco- buy a building for their power-ful youth programs

-Homefulness in Deep East Oakland- build straw bale homes for houseless, poor families in struggle

-ShackDwellers Union in South Africa-

13) Invite the Tech-Decolonizer Guru into your company for some important Tech Decolonization Action Steps

14) GET OFF THE BUS

For a consultation with the Tech Decolonizer guru call 510-435-7500 or email us at deeandtiny@poormagazine.org

Rich-Wite People Store "Jack Spade" lies to get beyond zoning requirements so they can gentrify Valencia Street

            I sincerely believe a lot of indigenous culture has been gentrified from San Francisco, California. The people who are still around are scraping for money just to stay in the neighborhood they grew up in. Almost in every neighborhood from Mission, Potrero Hill, Hunters Point, Fillmore, and Chinatown has been taken over by people with a lot of money. In every one of these neighborhoods the elite is starting to take over, and poverty stricken people are being unheard, and unrecognized. They have torn down projects in Hunters Point while telling the tenants they can come back, but after the buildings are built they raise the rent ridiculously high so black people cannot afford to move back in. In any one of these neighborhoods people offer a lot of money to the tenants for their homes and then resell the land for a higher rate. Despite all of these horrible factors, as a poverty scholar at Poor Magazine when we had NewsRoom in August a man by the name of Andy Blue came and spoke of unknown problems the Mission District is going through from the inside.

            Andy Blue is a rare person because he identifies with having the white class privilege of passing through racism without a problem. He grew up in the Mid West and has lived in San Francisco for sixteen years. He discussed how, when he moved to San Francisco it was diverse and full of good people, but he also discovered the injustices of the communities. Andy consistently said everything he does is a learning process, and he is honored to have the privilege of working with people of color in all aspects of the dilemmas we as poor people go through.

            He has been a San Francisco schoolteacher and has volunteered in various campaigns including fighting the sit/lie law, which was viewed in part, as an attempt to criminalize right of poor homeless people to exist in public spaces of the city. A friend of his, Nate Miller, co organized the “Sidewalks are For People” days that involved thousands of people in more than one hundred events on the sidewalks around the city. He gestured and said “I knew we were doing something right when Poor Magazine became involved and did an amazing event art, music, and people power on the sidewalks are for People Day!”

            The major problem in the Mission District is Jack Spade. Jack Spade is a high-end corporate men’s clothing and accessories retailer based in New York. Jack Spade is the upstart men’s brand of Kate Spade, a high-end women’s designer with some one hundred eighty nine stores in the United States. Jack Spade is a rich company for rich customers who are happy to pay nine hundred duffel bags. This company wants to move into the Mission for the cool factor that the neighborhood can give to the company. They also see the high priced condos sprouting up all around the neighborhood and see a growing market for their $900 duffel bag, but available storefronts are few in the Mission and Jack Spade has its eyes on the location where Adobe Books was twenty-five years. Adobe book was a pretty special bookstore and community based. The store is a family room of sorts, for the neighborhood and people could hang out there for hours browsing the shelves and reading in the comfy old chairs. For some of the folks living in SRO’s along 16^th Street, this was a priceless sort of quasi-public space, like a public library branch without all the rules and with later hours.

             Jack Spade wanted the location for their fancy store and was happy to pay triple the rent so before long the buildings new landlord gave Adobe Books the boot and welcomed Jack Spade with open arms. In order to move in, Jack Spade needed to get permitted by the City’s planning Department. Voters actually passed a Formula Retail ordinance in SF, a few years back that is intended to make it more difficult for big chain stores like Jack Spade to move in to places like the Mission. Jack Spade presented that they only had seven chain stores and they were very little. This was the lie that allowed them to come into the neighborhood, and take over. They are putting these high-end expensive stores in which poor - people of color cannot afford. The whole law was to make sure family owned businesses could still remain in the mission as a culture. They are driving local stores out by raising the rent and threatening people to back off, or they will report them to immigration. Now since the rent is high, people of color are moving to Antioch, Sacramento, Richmond, and Oakland.

On October 9th a hearing on the appeal of the appeal of Jack Spade is scheduled,.Tune in to PNN for updates

Would you

Bite into a watermelon

Without seeds?

Munch on an ear of corn

Without taste?

Suckle the bittersweet juice from

           a pomegranate

The size of a baby’s skull?

Chew on a tomato

Grown with fish genes?

Eat bread made with wheat

That can withstand heavy

Clouds of insecticidal mist?

Cook a meal with spicy chili peppers

That can make

Their own herbicide?

A loaded gun

Is no longer required

Simply to play

Russian Roulette with

Your own body.

The game can

Now be played

Much slower

When feasting on

The cisgenic harvest.

Keeping hunger away-----

Original intent-----

Perhaps an excuse-----

By scientists.

The poor are left

To take that gamble.

White rats

In a cage

Took a chance

On a potato

They were fed for dinner.

Liver failure

Weakened immunity:

What they’d gotten

In return.

Will these

Be the effects that

Mistakes of science

Corruptions of nature

Have on us?

A loaded gun

Is no longer required

Simply to play

Russian Roulette with

Your own body.

The game can

Now be played

Much slower

When feasting on

The cisgenic harvest.

I wouldn’t take

Such a chance.

Would you?

[ For Nita B., Miguel Robles,

Rachel Parent & Tami Canal. ]