My body ached as my dad’s enormous shining black minivan turned the corner: a glistening cockroach scampering across the street. His anger spread across the air-conditioned space between us. That tongue that was made to curl into Yiddish instead spoke the stoic, unromantic language that is English. My name left his mouth a hiss, a curse word, a spit on the street. He whispered, “Your brother needs you right now and you’ve been gone. The day after my daddy died when I was 20, I asked my grandfather to come upstairs to look at my coin collection. He was old and in grief and I should have known better.  He had a heart attack on those stairs and died later that day. I’ve never forgiven myself. And you will never forgive yourself if you don’t start taking better care of your brother.”

            My father’s father immigrated from Belarus to the US in the 1920s along with a huge movement of other Eastern European Jews fleeing the pogroms, the anti-Jewish violent uprisings. Because I never met my grandparents or great-grandparents on this side of my family, I have to fill in much of this herstory on my own. But I do know that assimilating into white gentile US culture was brutal for my family. I imagine that my ancestors from Eastern Europe knew how to sustain multi-generational homes and take care of the elderly and the sick. They were poor: brick layers and tailors and farmers. I’m sure they didn’t send the sick or the elderly into nursing homes like we wealthy and middle class folks do in the US. My family also internalized much of the scapegoating and xenophobia and turn this oppression against each other. We are very critical and brutal with one another.

            My upbringing would have seemed quite foreign to my ancestors, I imagine. I was raised in a competitive, individualistic US culture in Marin County. Never in my schooling did anyone mention how to take care of sick family members or of the elderly. It was assumed where I grew up that you send away the sick and old. I was always encouraged to think about my own future as an individual, never as a family unit. This is what Tiny calls the “Cult of independence”- the normalization of individualization and separation from family in capitalism. I’m learning that some people actually think of themselves as part of a family unit- it’s signified in their name, the way they distribute resources and spend time with their family of origin. There is a vast amount of un-assimilating into white US culture that I need to do in order to relate to this collectivist mindset.

            When my brother got sick with cancer at the age of 23, even our money, white privilege and health care could not save him. Nothing in life could have prepared me for this experience; and yet, with the individualistic indoctrination I received in this country, it was hard for me to face taking care of him fulltime. I had just graduated college when he became acutely ill. I was terrified of him dying or never fully recovering. My parents unraveled so quickly and I could no longer recognize anyone in my family. I got scared and turned to independence for sanctuary. I got a job in a restaurant and created a social life for myself. This independence was deliriously delicious, addictive, invigorating. I got high off of escape. I wanted to be anywhere in the world but with my family. Anywhere.

            You could say this conversation with my father in his cockroach-colored car began millennia ago, before Jews turned white or American and when families only were separated because of direct violence. Jews know a thing or two about betrayal among family members. Joseph, an important Jewish figure in the Hebrew Bible, was sold into slavery by his brothers because they were jealous of him. Even after such a brutal betrayal, Joseph later brings his family back together and repairs the severed ties. He not only forgives; he transcends the cruelty enacted upon him and creates unity.

The cost of this individualistic pursuit was my father’s rage, my brother’s sense of betrayal and ultimately strained many relationships in my family. I’m still figuring out how to mend these relationships now with the incredible void that my brother’s death created. We are all struggling to see past the grief and reach out to each other for connection, instead of using the cult of independence to avoid the hard conversations, the painful apologies and tumultuous path of forgiveness.

Krip-Hop Nation (KHN): Hello Cassandra, tell us about your work and your new single, “My Time”.

Cassandra Saunders: Hi, Leroy! First of all, I need to clarify something. “My Time” was going to be a single from my upcoming album, but as of right now I’m working with a vocal arranger on material that we are going to be pitching to major/independent labels, and independent artists. I feel like I need to establish myself as a lyrical songwriter before I make albums. As far as the song is concerned, it’s about a girl who is determined to show the world that she is going to make a name for herself in the world and nothing is going to stop her.

KHN: You have, or are starting a label, D Minor Entertainment, tell us more.
Cassandra Saunders: The label is in the development stages, but I can tell you that my reasoning behind its development is to implement what I believe will actually aide in stabilizing the economic side of the industry, and also to help develop and promote other disabled urban artists.

KHN: What is your advise for young women with disabilities who want to sing?

Cassandra Saunders: My advice for disabled women, and really any disabled artists who wish to become singers, rappers, or a combination of the two is simply this; when someone or something knocks you down, get right back up and approach the situation from a different angle. Most importantly, never let yourself become defeated, instead become the defeatest.

KHN: What are the projects that you are working on now?

Cassandra Saunders: Currently, I’m continuously writing songs and in about a month, my team and I will start pitching to different entities. As I said in question three, I’m focusing on the label and the corresponding publishing company formation.

KHN: This upcoming album, what are the main messages of the songs?

Cassandra Saunders: Whenever I do release my album, I will do my best to promote positivity in relationships, despite negative situations. And, overcoming struggles in everyday life. I want to be a role model for all my fans; disabled or not.

KHN: What would you say to a major record labels about your work/music?

Cassandra Saunders: What I want to say to record labels about myself and my music is this; the dynamics of the world has changed. The general public has embraced disabled artistry, it’s time that executives in this industry does as well. I am however, refraining from thinking that all hope is lost in regards to that because of the current American Idol contestant who only stutters when he is not singing. I want to see if a major will pick him up even if he is not the American Idol chosen by the public. (Reference for the American Idol comment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLdg9FMp7f8&feature=youtu.be)

KHN: How can people support you work/music?

Cassandra Saunders: At the present time I am working on developing both my official website (Cassondra Saunders.com) and the label’s website (D Minor Entertainment.com) for now you can support my work by following me on twitter https://twitter.com/IWriteLyrics4U and liking our Facebook page http://facebook.com/dminorentertainment

KHN: As a disabled female musician, what can the music industry learn from your work?

Cassandra Saunders: What this industry can learn from my work is that with the right amount of determination and drive, anyone can do anything that they put their mind to. It does not matter the race, color, color, gender, or disability I will not stop preaching that until I stop breathing.

KHN: Tell us your process, high points, and roadblocks of creating your upcoming album.

Cassandra Saunders: To be completely honest, the two occasions that I had the opportunity to record music were learning experiences. There that have never been any roadblocks and the major ups came in knowing that individuals with clout in the industry gave me tremendous help in starting my career and I’ll never forget them. When I do begin recording an album, I’m going to do two things:
a.) I will continue working with a vocal arranger two and sure that I have the best arrangements possible.
b.) Have several meetings with my production team to ensure that we are all on the same page. Everyone will have notes and everything will be structured the way I need it to be.
Did I mention that my label will have acquired distribution from some major label?

KHN: How can people listen to your music and connect with you?

Cassandra Saunders: As of right now, everyone can listen to my music at http://www.soundclick.com/cassandrasaundersmusic. When that page is no longer available, it means that the official website is complete and all twitter accounts related to me will reflect that. People can always contact me at csaunders@cassandrasaunders.com. However, all label inquiries must go to info@dminorentertainment.com. If you forget my twitter ID just look it up using my name in Google or by entering csaunders@cassandrasaunders.com

Doctor you say yes, I say no

By Tony Robles

It is sad to feel insignificant. To not be wanted, especially when you are awaiting a service—such as that of healthcare—is akin to arriving at an airport after a long flight and disboarding to find that there is no one to meet you. It's a feeling of isolation. That's not to say that everyone has someone to meet them upon arrival or that they even have the privilege of flying to begin with. But to arrive at the airport and not have someone greet you when you expect it leaves one a bit empty, even if your ride was stuck in traffic through no fault of their own. It is, in a word, anticlimactic.

Such is the feeling I had when I lost my job and slipped into MediCal. I was never a fan of the doctor's office. The glare emanating from the walls and floors seemed to hum a piped-in, subliminal message of inferiority--namely mine—and that it was mandated that I be thankful for the feeling. I had lost my job under very chickenshit circumstances that I could only describe as penurious (for details, see POOR Magazine article, “The Presidio Landmark, Occupied by the 1%"). It seemed the day after I was let go, I got a letter in the mail from my former bosses in their ubiquitous offices in the philanthropy capital known as Cleveland. I thought i'd have a few days—a little wiggle room to get a teeth cleaning and maybe a new pair of glasses—severance for a year and a half of selfless and equanimous service in my duties as doorman to those richer than I—who happened to be anybody that walked through the door. Wrong. I was shown the door—scuffed eyeglasses, plaque stained teeth and all.

I applied for and got on MediCal. I had lost my coverage and ran out of medication at the same time. I needed a refill. I got a refill at Tom Wadell clinic. When I ran out, I had received my MediCal card with the name of a doctor—let's call him Doctor Ngo (pronounced “no” for those who don't know).  I had gone to UCSF urgent care thinking I could get a refill there but was informed that they couldn't help me. “Ngo”...or, “No”, they said. I had to go to the Doctor on my card. So I made the trek to his small office in the Richmond District.

When I arrived I felt I had landed in a doctor's office from the 70's—the early 70's. And judging by the condition of the floors, walls, and windows, it is quite possible that the last time the office had been cleaned was in that particular decade. I looked around for a rotary telephone when my eyes landed on the face of an irritated looking woman in the reception area behind a desk.  She looked like a perpetually pissed off aunt--always pissed off at you for reasons you nor anybody else will ever know. In back of her were medical files that sagged against the wall, large stacks of paper that looked like they'd collapse with a sneeze or if a fly touched down on them.

I took about 15 minutes trying to answer her two questions: 1) Who are you? And 2) Who sent you? She didn't seem to comprehend that Medical had assigned me to her office, that Doctor Ngo was now my doctor. She asked me several times if I had a primary care doctor and I answered Ngo, I mean, “No” several times. Then she told me there was no room for me there, that the doctor had too many patients. She told me to go back to the Tom Wadell Clinic and I responded that they would only send me back to her smiling face.

So reluctantly, she gave me a health history chart to fill out. I sat filling it out when the door opened. In walked a man in a robe, pajamas and leather slippers that slapped the linoleum. The health questionnaire asked the standard health history questions but also asked what my sexual preference was,  if I had sex with my wife and if I enjoyed sex with my wife. As I was filling out the form, the woman was on the phone trying to pawn me off to another clinic. All I needed was a prescription refill, not a colonoscopy.  She hung up the phone and led the man in the robe to a room.  Meanwhile  I completed the form and waited.

15 minutes later I was approached by a kindly looking older man in white. He greeted me and I followed him into the exam room that was a little bigger than a walk-in closet. He told me to sit on the table with the wax tissue covering while he tended to something else. I looked at the implements and various scopes and stainless steel—that were stained—tools of the trade. The ear scope appeared to have dried wax at the end from ears gone by. The other implements looked like they hadn't been sterilized.

He returned and did the usual—blood pressure check, breathe in, breathe out, open wide, etc. He jotted things on a chart. I looked at the wall. His degree hung in the still air. The degree was for something called “Medical Ambassador”. Maybe that was another term for doctor. The degree looked like it had been xeroxed by one of those copy machines you'd find in safeway or wallgreens. He took my weight and said that at 5 foot 9 inches and 182 pounds, I was obese. He showed me a body mass index from some university (I think it was Stamford...that place of higher learning in Connecticut) to back the claim. Dr. Ngo was Vietnamese. I Didn't see myself as obese. Perhaps if I were Vietnamese, I would have. To get to his suggested weight of 160, i'd have to go on a serious diet. I'd go from obese to emaciated. He finally finished and wrote me a prescription with one refill.

The doctor was nice enough. He was far more pleasant than his assistant. As nice as he was, I left with the feeling i'd been pawned off to a doctor that perhaps shouldn't be practicing. The run around I got in getting this level of care, in a neighborhood—i might add—that I grew up in, left me feeling sorry for the next person who had to visit this doctor—and heaven help them if they have some kind of serious condition. I thanked the doctor and wondered if all those files stacked high at the medical reception desk had fallen as I shut the door.

(Graphic from biowizardry.blogspot.com)

I knew that the pills the nurse was holding were the wrong ones.  But she kept insisting I take them.  A gurney was waiting to take me upstairs for more tests.  I swallowed the pills and climbed onto the gurney.  They wheeled me next to a room where a woman kept saying “no” in a loud, pleading voice.  I asked a nurse what was going on.  She explained that a woman was having a very painful procedure on her foot, and could not tolerate pain killers.  As I felt my blood pressure drop, I heard her cry out “no. please!”  This was my experience of the American health care system.
      My experience was not unique.  Health care in this country is in crisis.  Studies show that A quarter of all patients are harmed during hospital stays.  A common cause of hospital death is giving people the wrong drugs. Twenty to thirty percent of all procedures and tests are unnecessary.
   And this is just the average.  Studies have shown that the worst American hospitals treat twice the number of poor and elderly African American patients as the best ones.  And these hospitals have twice the rate of death from Pneumonia, which is generally preventable.
  How do some people wind up in the relatively good hospitals and some in the very poor ones?  One can not find out which hospitals, doctors, specialists or surgeons are good by going on Yelp, as people now commonly do for restaurants or hotels.  And even the good medical personnel have a code to not reveal the bad ones.  You can't tell by how they act.  Often, the worst doctors have the most pleasant personality's, and thus are loved by colleges and patients alike, despite their poor safety records.
  So people usually choose there hospitals by default.  They go to the closets place that takes whatever insurance they have. if any.  And this is how the poor and minority patients wined up in the worst places.
   I live in the Tenderloin district, and my insurance is medi-cal.  Perhaps that is why I wound up lieing on a stretcher, blood pressure needlessly drooping, listening to  the screams of a woman whose consent was being violated.  As, in a subtler way, had mine.

Krip-Hop Nation (KHN)  I just read about you through Divas With Disabilities Project.  Tell us about your connection to that project.

Kebra Moore: Divas with Disabilities is an outstanding organization. We share the common bond of being beautiful, educated women with disabilities that display a "Can Do" attitude towards anything we put our minds to.

KHN:  You sing more than Gospel tell us about your music and this new single.  Explain the title of your upcoming album, “Under the Influence,”.

Kebra Moore: I obtained my BA degree from Claflin University in Music Education. This opportunity allowed me to display my talent of singing in a variety of genres like Opera, Jazz, R&B and Gospel. I began singing gospel exclusively in 2007 when I gave my life back to Christ.  I love to sing other genres as well but it has been mostly Gospel as of late.

The "Under the Influence" album has the combination twist of all four types of genres present with a little hip-hop flavor as well. Like my last album, "Kingdom Understanding" it has something for everyone to relate to. This album is an empowerment, no longer succumbing to society views of what beauty is or allowing society to place limits upon what you can or cannot accomplish.

KHN:  You have this great campaign called Beautiful tell us more.

Kebra Moore: The Beautiful Campaign primary goal is to educate people on the endless possibilities that are available to those who have recently suffered life-altering injuries; as well as restore a sense of pride and self-esteem. Throughout the United States, I personally visit spinal cord injury hospitals, rehabilitation centers and disability expos to enlighten and uplift all with physical disabilities. Upon arriving at these facilities, we host concerts, seminars and patient spa like treatments that focuses on ability not disability. This uplifting experience brings a sense of hope and newfound inner peace that assist in recovery.

 KHN: I read on your website that your songs titled “He’ll Make a Way” was featured on President Barack Obama’s documentary soundtrack BECOMING BARACK: Evolution of a Leader.  Tell us about that project.

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 Kebra Moore: The documentary was the beginning years of the President while he was still the Illinois senator. I was contacted through my distribution company MDI to have a song of mine placed on the soundtrack.   I wrote and recorded the song "He'll Make a Way" and submitted it. A few weeks later, I was contacted stating the song had made the cut and it would be placed on the "The Evolutions of a Leader" soundtrack. This was really a huge blessing for me in my music career. Not in a million years I could have imagine writing a song for President Barack Obama.  I hope that one day I get the opportunity to sing it live for him.

 KHN:  Do you think Gospel is more open to musicians with disabilities compare to Hip-Hop & R&B?

Kebra Moore: Yes, in my opinion, the Gospel community appears to be more accepting of those with disabilities. However, great music is acceptable to any genre; you have Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder as testimony. Many artists with disabilities within the Hip Hop and R&B community, but their disability is not as visible as mines' or those mentioned.

KHN:  Do you see other women with physical disabilities in your work?

Kebra Moore: Yes, I encounter other women and men with disabilities in my line of work.  It is very uplifting to see those with disabilities working alongside of those that are able bodied. It erases a negative image of disability or rid misconceptions about those who have disabilities

KHN:  In your video “Beautiful”  I like that you left the viewer with a big wow at the end.  Will you do more music videos?

Kebra Moore: Yes, I am scheduled to film the video to my next single "Never Let Him Go" in June 2013. I am excited about the video, if you think "Beautiful" had a wow factor. Just wait until you see this video! It's going to set the bar quite high for all genres.

KHN:  Many people who become physically disabled later in life have a thinking that they be cure or want to “overcome” their disability.  What are your thoughts about that?

Kebra Moore: It takes time to mentally heal from life altering injuries.  I say that because I have come to accept who I am in life and my disability. Initially the shock factor affects everyone around you and the reality that medicine and technology has not evolved enough to cure you. If not for my disability, I do not know where my life would be right now. It does not define who you are; it only allows you to be easily picked out in a crowd of people. (LOL)

KHN:  You say you’re a speaker.  What do you speak about and being Black and disabled what is your advise to young Black young women with disabilities?

Kebra Moore: Majority of my speaking engagements are about raising self-esteem and being comfortable with you. I would tell any woman, regardless of color, "that life is precious and do not allow society to make you feel inferior or self conscience about who you are. Put God first and focus on your new abilities."

KHN:  I just listen to the single Trouble, POWERFUL. Tell us about the story behind that song.

Kebra Moore: That song hit home and was special to me because growing up I saw how my own mother struggled to raise my brother and I. I have crossed paths with many people of different lifestyles who had a story of their own struggles, and decided to write about it. Troubles don't escape anyone! You have to place your faith in God and let it go. Often time people focus on how big their problem is vice how big their God is.

KHN:  What is on your calendar for this year?

Kebra Moore: Wow, non-stop. I am part of the abilities expo, so I travel and perform as part of the event segment of the expo. In addition, I recently won Ms. Wheelchair Mississippi and I will be working with Mississippi legislative to make the state more ADA friendly. Along with being a full time mother and wife. So my schedule is quite intense now.

March 30: Ms. Wheelchair Alabama Pageant, Birmingham, AL

May 3-5: (Ability Expo) New York

June 8-9 (Video Shoot) "Never Let Him Go", Los Angeles, CA

June 21-22:  Mega Disability Conference (Ms. Wheelchair Mississippi) Jackson, MS

June 28-30 (Ability Expo) Chicago, IL

July 6: Speaking Panel (Essence Festival) New Orleans, LA

July 10-14 (Delta Sigma Theta National Conference) Washington, D.C.

July 15-21 (Ms. Wheelchair America National Conference) Houston, TX

August 2-4 (Ability Expo) Houston, TX

October 5 (Black Essence Awards) Nominee, Bend, IN

More to come!!!!

KHN:  How can people follow your work?

Kebra Moore: www.kebramoore.net

https://www.facebook.com/KebraMooreFocusingOnAbility?ref=hl

https://twitter.com/Kebra_Moore

https://www.facebook.com/KebraMusiq

            I have never been good with dates, but this is one that I will never, ever forget. Involuntarily, I find myself re-visiting the crime scene and going through the evidence, applying non-attachment, while allowing myself to experience the emotions and let them go. Buddhist theory at its best, real life situation at its worst. That morning, I opened my eyes to sheets the color of the most bitter, deep crimson red wine anyone could ever taste. Today I wake up in a different bed, in a different city, exactly a year from that morning when I met and became best friends with a side of myself that I never knew existed; the side of me capable of experiencing intense, almost polar emotions. Today I realize that, along with one more woman every 9 seconds, I too experienced at a bruised skin-deep level what the system knows as domestic violence. I am a dot, a pixel that makes the graphs accounting for perpetrations of violence a tiny bit bigger...  every 9 seconds.... a bit bigger... 9 more seconds, bigger, bigger...

            I don’t know if knowing that I am not alone, that this hasn’t happened only to me makes me feel better, or it makes my stomach turn inside out. 1 in 4 women has experienced or will experience domestic violence in her lifetime; an estimate of 1.3 million each year. Women ages 20-24 are at the greatest risk of non-fatal intimate partner violence. Most cases of domestic violence are never reported to the police and out of those that are reported, most don’t get prosecuted.  Domestic violence against immigrant, undocumented women has an even higher incidence rate… check mark, check mark, check mark … Yes, I am part statistic, part human. I am a part of those statistics that are counted for, and I am  a part of the underground statistics that no one will ever hear, just like millions of other women undocumented as myself, who don’t report or follow up the case because of fear of deportation and a lack of information about our rights as victims of domestic violence.

            When I woke that morning, a spasm of fear ran through my body, mixed with chaos, confusion and a lack of memory. As I stood up, wondering where my partner had gone and whether or not he was the source of the wine-resembling puddles on the bed, I happened to stumble upon the one extra-wide mirror in the room. A fearful squeal escaped my lips, which abruptly ended when I realized that the scary creature in the mirror was nothing other than a reflection of myself. Tears began to wash down my face, mixing salt with bitterness and a strong taste of iron. Although I couldn’t remember the recently passed hours, a few flashes of my partner’s fists running with intention and infinite hate into my face, head and body began to come into my mind, as violent as the punches. I cried, I curled up in the corner, I stood up, curled back up. I walked from one side of the tiny room to the other, opened the window to let the smell of pain out, felt vulnerable to the air blowing inward … closed the window.  I had no idea what to do; the only thing I could think to of was to pack my belongings and leave, without looking back.

             I drove erratically, never once thinking to head toward a hospital or police station. I feared that, although I was the “victim”, they would ask for an ID, they would ask why I was here, they would find out that I am a nobody in this country, that I am not one of their citizens, that I have no rights. I feared that they would tell me they are not here to protect me. Every time I saw a police car, I felt a knot in my stomach and prayed not be noticed, not be questioned. I spent the next week or so in shock, sleeping through most of the days and nights, coming in and out of nightmares. Somehow, my body healed unbelievably fast; in my few wake moments, I deleted every picture I had taken of my beaten body, along with anything that could remind me of him or of us. When I finally felt a tiny bit more grounded in reality, my friend, who was taking care of me convinced me to file a report. I still feared being arrested and deported for being in the country “illegally” but at that point, I had decided to go back to Mexico, so I didn’t care.

            The police came, asked a thousand questions, many of them about my status and reasons for being in the country. Many questions remained unanswered, I could tell they made assumptions from my silence. They took a couple pictures and told me that, being realistic, nothing would happen and he would most likely not be prosecuted. They said that because I waited so long – nearly two weeks-, the case was weak and it most likely wouldn’t withstand in court… apparently, the blood in my eyes, the bruises and scratches could have happened in many ways, “most likely accidents,” they said. The police officers never mentioned that, even though I wasn't a U.S. Citizen, I was protected under the Violence Against Women Act. They never told me that I could actually apply for a temporary permit to stay in the country because of what happened.

Within two weeks, I was silenced twice by men that I was supposed to trust, by men who were supposed to care for me and protect me. First, by my partner who covered my mouth and choked me as I screamed and begged for help, begged for my life, begged him to stop... later, by the police officers who muted my cry for justice, for fairness, for peace of mind. That's all I asked for so I could move on and start healing.

         Maybe it was my stubbornness, or maybe it was my inner self guiding me to heal, but from that moment on, I refused to be silenced again. If these men wouldn't let me speak up, I would do it without their help. I made a self promise to speak up for myself and for all the women who have never spoken up and for those who never will. I made the commitment to break the silence for every immigrant woman who has remained in silence and to help break the cycle for all of the women who are put in the position of victims. Women who have suffered from domestic violence should not be called or categorized as victims, we are not victims; we are survivors. I believe part of my healing has come from refusing to be a victim, from refusing to feel weak and be babied for what happened. Part of the healing has come from telling and re-telling my story, from making it awkward for people and force them to listen to my voice, which simultaneously carries the voices of all those other survivor women. The word survivor carries strength, the word victim denotes weakness. One needs to be strong to survive the physical punches, as well as the punches that life brings us afterward, along our healing path. I wake up today and know that I am still not good with dates, but I also know that I am strong, that I have grown from the pain and that I will never, ever again be silenced. Every nine seconds I will speak up. Every nine seconds I will say “Ni una mas, not one more.”

John Stewart is a housing developer for low-income housing, known to be harsh to poor people. His staff is rude and very sarcastic. John Stewart is building a housing development called “Hunter’s View” in Bayview/Hunter’s Point, formerly known as Double Rock. The housing development will have five buildings to be built in five different stages. There are people who are being moved in immediately through the Housing Authority, prior to the housing lottery, but no one knows who they are. John Stewart is trying to get people of color out of the city and only have wealthy people in the city. No poor people whatsoever.

John Stewart’s first-stage building is discriminating against people with disabilities by limiting the size of service animals in the building: they cannot be larger than a lap dog. That forbids blind people from moving in. A Chihuahua is not a proper service animal for a seeing-eye dog! A proper dog is a Labrador or a German Shepard, not a lap dog! Luxury hotels like the Saint Frances and the Sheraton Palace Hotel allow these service animals in quarters smaller than a one-bedroom unit. This is also discriminating against poor people like myself. Are you saying, Mr. John Stewart, that if I was blind and of low-income, I am not entitled to the same privileges as a guest in a luxury hotel? If so you are discriminating against my civil rights. Because I only make a measly amount on my social security. I am presently not blind but I may need a service dog later on, and you and I may be meeting in the courtroom later on.

In addition to people with disabilities, regular poor people and seniors on Social Security will also be excluded. When John Stewart came, the former residents were kicked out of the area, but they were promised that they could move back. A majority of them had minimum-wage jobs or were on GA. But the new application to live in the building, Page 7, line 4, says that you “Cannot have more than $2500 credit debt or 3 bills outstanding.” Most former residents might have bills outstanding, including PG & E and Lifeline phones, or unpaid medical bills due to the toxic conditions of this area, which would mean a lot of former residents cannot move back. In the application, it says that a single person has to make $38,000 per year. If you were on Social Security like myself, I make $12,000 a year. GA would be half of that. That means that former residents cannot move back because they do not reach requirements. Now you are just kicking out old people like myself! The requirements are close to 50% Area Median Income (AMI) to live in his buildings: it’s almost into the ridiculous category, if you’re a former resident, to try to move back in.

The application alone shows that John Stewart wants to leave African-descendents and other people of color out of the Hunters Point area. At his new development it is forbidden to leave shades open or barbecue on a tenant’s own balcony. (He claims that barbequing is a fire hazard… but if you’re used to barbequing there is no way in hell you are setting the place on fire!) Barbequing is a tradition of both cultures, a part of their cuisine. This was a red flag that popped up under this reporter’s eyes. Do they want brothers and sisters or Oreo cookies living there? Tenants are also limited to spending ten minutes standing outside their apartment. Limiting my time standing outside the building to ten minutes is a violation of my freedom of assembly. It may take me longer to talk to my friends than 10 minutes.

Mr. John Stewart, on the right side of this application, you should have put a slash through the disabled logo. For your many violations of The Americans with Disabilities Act, and by using the words “may” be entitled to reasonable accommodations.

Is it humanly possible to lose touch with reality in a split second or does it happen over a period of time?

San Francisco, California is a city all to itself sitting out on a peninsula, made up of districts. Chinatown/North Beach districts is where my story begins.

Chinatown comes to life at 6:00am with meat markets and produce markets opening in preparation for the thousands of Chinese residents, spectators, tourist and the rest of us to make purchases or to window browse. At about 9:00am it's at a full swing where you can buy anything from food to travel and all in-between. The 30 and 45 bus lines are traveling along with the hustle and bustle of everyday life add the 8x and the 8bx traveling in-bound dropping off and picking up patrons along it's route.

At 6:00pm sharp Chinatown shuts down and becomes a ghost town, the only thing you can find open is Walgreen's til midnight on most nights, unless you go up and down the side streets and even then it's very few that are open for business. The lights may still be lit but it's because they're cleaning up and preparing to leave.

I've lived in this area for about six months now and it's relatively quiet after that time save the revelers on the weekends coming from the nightlife clubs and eateries of North Beach just one street over on Columbus Street. One of the highlights of most weekends though it's a sad occasion are the funerals. Very rare on a Thursday, common on Friday's and Saturday's and on some Sunday's you will hear drums beating sounding the alarm of something approaching, tourist and onlookers stand in anticipation of what's to come. The regulars keep going as if nothing is happening, then comes two officers on dirt bikes with yellow vests following them is the Green Street Marching band playing somber hymns and farewell songs as the dearly departed is displayed on an over-sized portrait held by family members in a truck sitting in chairs. The hearse and mourners follow behind. That's the usual day to day operations of this part of town.

That is until a month ago, that's when it all changed. It was a change that lasted a little more than a month. Because I don't know her name we will call her Clara Chung, she is of Chinese descent and was put out of her apartment or should I say her room at the L&J Hotel. The L&J is a run down hotel, looking at it from outside would make you feel that it is rat and roach infested. Clothes hanging out the windows, the dirty building looked as if it hasn't had a paint job in years or washed down for that matter, I realize that people don't really care as long as they got a place to stay and especially if you have a family like I do. That's how I felt after staying in shelters and drop-in centers, but I draw the line with roaches and rats it's bad enough that these hotels are highly overrated and way to expensive and to top it off they aren't even quality but then again some of these "quality" top notched hotels are bedbug centrals. So I guess you're damned if you do and damned if you don't.

Back to Ms. Chung, she was set out with all of her belongings. For a month we listened to her cry, scream at nobody in particular, clean and sweep the sidewalk because that had become her home, she simply had nowhere else to go. She would go on something fierce at all hours of the night, at about 3:00am she would fall asleep(I would pray for her not to be cold) but at 6:00am she was wide awake and going about her way. The police would walk past, sometimes they would stop and talk to her other times they would taunt and laugh at her but she never backed down she stood her ground. When the owner/manager tried to get her to leave she refused.

Then one morning as the sun was rising she started singing loudly and woke everyone on the block, some cursed her but it didn't matter to her she continued; some even shouted for her to "shut up" for which her response was "sorry" in a humbled tone of voice but later she would be singing again as loud as she could. Near the end of her stay she would get on her knees in the middle of the crosswalk and pray and cry. Why she chose the crosswalk instead of the sidewalk is beyond me but she did.

One day while I was down the street at the laundromat she came in and wanted to take a wash-up in the restroom, so the attendant allowed her too, then when she was finished she cleaned up after herself and then washed her clothes. While she was in there four other people including myself were tending to our laundry, one of the guys( whom I know) started talking about her and thought she couldn't understand English but she could so she knew the guy couldn't speak Cantonese she started talking about him to the attendant as a result I informed the man that "she can speak and understand English but she has the upper hand on you because you can't speak nor understand Cantonese"(chuckle).

I often felt sorry for the woman, I could feel her pain and deep within myself her fight for survival but I also sensed her struggle to maintain her sanity which she had lost. The fear of insanity was quickly over-taking her in every waking hour, day and week that she was in this condition.

Unfortunately at the end of this story there is not a happy ending, when she least expected it those same cops who had taunted and mocked her were the same ones restraining her against her will. The same manager who had evicted her for not being able to pay her rent any longer was the same one who called the paramedics to do a 5150 on her and as they strapped her onto a gurney people stood around looking and some were helpless to respond to her cries to be free of bonds that held her grip. She wailed in agony from the pain of being detached from her belongings and displaced from all that she knew and held dear, the memories of good times and probably bad times too.

After she was loaded into the back of the boxed in ambulance the manager didn't wait until the door was closed before he ransacked her belongings and carted off what he wanted from it and informed the cops that the rest was "just junk". My daughter and I looking from the window watched as the ambulance drove off down the street before turning onto Stockton Street headed for San Francisco General Hospital we also saw the manager and another man walking in the opposite direction with Ms. Chung's personal belongings in a dark colored trash bag walking out of sight and down Powell Street.

Two weeks have passed and though the street has returned to some normalcy I wonder where Ms. Chung is, is she still at General? Is she okay? Is she warm at night? Does she get enough to eat? Is she safe from harm? I don't know but every time I think of her I stop and say a prayer for her that one day she'll be restored to sanity.

We Need the Community to Speak Out about the Termination of Homeless Coordinator Nancy Johnson

On September 19, 2012, low-income parents at the Berkeley Unified School District (BUSD) spoke out against the cutting of funds for the McKinney-Vento Act from $34,000 to $17,000.  The McKinney-Vento Act is a statute to assist families facing housing issues because of a lack of resources in the education of their children. The proposed cut came amidst an economic depression.

In the following months, many community members came to the BUSD School Board meetings, and sent numerous emails to the Co-interim Superintendents (Javetta Cleveland and Neil Smith) requesting the BUSD increase the funding for the McKinney-Vento Act and to continue the contract of Ms. Nancy Johnson.

Ms. Johnson has been the Homeless Coordinator for the BUSD for the last 15 years, and has been a valuable asset to families and students receiving assistance under McKinney-Vento Act.  As a retired teacher, employee at Berkeley Oakland Support Services, and resident of Berkeley, she has a vast reservoir of knowledge pertaining to issues of class, race and homelessness. Her institutional knowledge on the McKinney-Vento Act in the BUSD is unparalleled.

As a result of the community's voice and vigilance, the BUSD Board Members decided that the District Staff should meet with the community that receives McKinney-Vento assistance to decide how services are provided. Many of us were adamant that Nancy Johnson's services  are greatly valued by the community.

In a disingenuous move of bureaucratic duplicity, the District hired two half-time positions, and unilaterally terminated Ms. Johnson's contract.  She was given until the end of March 28, 2013.  This move by the BUSD was beyond the boundaries of our wildest imagination. We did not request Nancy Johnson's termination as the Homelessness Coordinator.  We requested the opposite. This action goes against the spirit and intent of the McKinney-Vento families, students, and community.  We are requesting the BUSD cancel this irrational response to our call for additional resource for the McKinney-Vento Act.

The community of  BUSD students and families are devastated by the District's move to terminate Ms. Johnson's contract.  Her first hand knowledge of the familial history of the many of the BUSD students receiving assistance under the McKinney-Vento Act, combined with her unequaled institutional knowledge are irreplaceable to the community. The termination of Ms. Johnson's services goes directly against the wishes of the students and parents at the School Board meetings. The parents and families know what services they need. Therefore, we are requesting that Ms. Johnson be retained until the end of the  2012-2013 academic year. 

According to BUSD's own statistics, approximately 10 percent of BUSD students are identified as eligible for assistance under the McKinney-Vento Act, and most of them are students of color. If the BUSD is serious about shrinking the well chronicled “Racial Achievement Gap," people like Nancy Johnson are needed to assist the BUSD in providing a free and quality education to all of it students.

We are asking that you support us in this goal by emailing Board Members stating that you would like Ms. Johnson's contract extended until at least the end of the 2012-2013 academic year. Contact them at: Karen Hemphill, karenhemphill@berkeley.net, Josh Daniels, joshdaniels@berkeley.net, Judy Appel, judyappel@berkeley.net, Beatriz Leyva-Cutler, BeatrizLeyva-Cutler@berkeley.net, Juliette Mueller, juliettemueller@students.berkeley.net, and Co-interim Superintendents Javetta Cleveland, javettacleveland@berkeley.net and Neil Smith, neilsmith@berkeley.net

Krip-Hop Nation:  Lets get this out of the way.  Yes you are my girlfriend so I wanted to interview because of your deep relationship with disability and your musical talents and of course our relationship.  It all well 99.9% involves disability with other factors.  Please explain.

Darla Lennox:  My life since childhood has been centered on disability since my parents are both deaf and being the oldest, I learned advocacy from a young age. From growing up in a deaf and hearing culture, I just felt it was a natural fit for me to work with persons with disabilities—physical disabilities and developmental disabilities, which I did in various group homes and sheltered workshops. Then in 2000, my son, Daniel, was diagnosed with autism and it was also at this time I made the decision to leave group home work for good and go back to school to major in social work with the primary goal being, I didn’t want other families to go through what we (me and my ex-husband) went through which is when you get the diagnosis of autism, there is no handbook or guide, there’s a lot of well meaning advice and a lot of “You should do this and you should do that”, of what you should do next. It’s been a lot of learning along the way with Daniel, what works and doesn’t work for him, a lot of reading and connecting with other parents who are also raising a child with autism. You know when Daniel was diagnosed, a family member said, “God chose you special and knew you could raise a child with autism since you worked with disabilities.” I am a spiritual person but I don’t feel God chose me special, it just happened and if I didn’t raise Daniel, who would? You do what any parent does, you raise your child the best you know how with lots of love, faith, patience, hope, and a good sense of humor! I do think because I worked with persons with disabilities, when the diagnosis was made, I kind of already knew this was where it was heading and just resolved to learn what I could about autism. Yes, I had so many questions and I reached out to one of my aunts who also had and lost a child with a disability, for answers, for support and guidance. She was and still continues to be a support for me.  Whew, did this answer the question? You know I could go on and on. mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Symbol">J

KHN:  Please please give us your side of the story how we met.

Darla Lennox:  I’ve got a big ol’ smile thinking about it. We met through my ex-husband, Correy, back in 2006 when he went to Berkeley to interview you for his documentary on the historical treatment of persons with disabilities (which has not been made yet but really needs to be because the time is WAY overdue for this story!). He mentioned to you that I had been working in the field of disabilities for a long time and that I also couldn’t stand the “r” word, which his documentary also focused on—its overuse in popular media. We began emailing each other every so often over the years when your nephews were born , you sent me an email telling me you were an uncle again and you would pop up on Facebook chat to say hi and give your best to my family. I would listen to your radio show and being on Texas time, when I tuned in, it was some lady talking about vegetarian treats!  It really wasn’t until the summer of 2009 after I had already separated from my ex that I shared that news with you. Something in me told me, “Tell him, you know you want to get to know him better.” So I did and we began having long Internet conversations and we didn’t talk on the phone till about 2 months later. I don’t know why we didn’t talk on the phone sooner!  What started out as a huge respect for your work, poetry, and radio shows turned into friendship and then turned into love.  We just connected and found out that we had a lot in common. Me reaching out to you that summer of 2009 was the best thing I could have done because I found and fell in love with my soulmate.

KHN:  You tried out for the X Factor.  Tell us about that experience and your long history of singing.

Darla Lennox: The X Factor is about the image. Yeah, they’ll tell you there is no age limit but as I stood in line in Dallas waiting for my turn to sing, the man in front of me, who was in his mid-40’s and had a great rock voice, was told, “You’re not what we’re looking for.” I was told the same thing after 2 days of standing in long lines hearing Adele’s “Rolling In the Deep” over and over again and people trying to sing like Mariah Carey.  I sang “Get Here” by Oleta Adams, my signature tune and turned on my charm but it wasn’t enough. So back home I went. It was a great learning experience of what these talent shows are looking for and how hungry people are when it comes to singing and sharing their gift with the world. That’s how I feel. I love to sing and I’m not interested in becoming the next Adele and filling stadiums. I would be content to sing in a little smoky jazz club with a cello player and piano behind me while I connect with the people sitting close by. I’ve been singing since the age of 7-8 when I, along with my childhood friend, Laura, would sing the Bee Gees in her basement for her family. Never mind the fact that we didn’t know all the words to “Tragedy” just the chorus, but they sat there and smiled and clapped. I joined choir in the 8 ^{color:black">th} color:black"> grade and continued to be in a choir until I graduated community college in 1991. In between singing in choirs, I also sang at weddings, some talent shows at the fair, a gay bar, and Jewish temple for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. I loved singing Hebrew at the Jewish Temple because the words and notes just seemed to float and when I hit that last note, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.  It was the most wonderful feeling and afterwards having women who travelled from Florida (I was living in Michigan at the time) tell me that they come every year to hear me sing (I sang 2 years straight for the holidays) was truly humbling. This is why I love to sing, why I want to sing-to make that connection with people and move them to feel things in their heart whether it be happiness or sadness.

KHN:  As a working class mother tell us how do you fit your singing into you life and what is in your future when it comes to your singing?

Darla Lennox:  I haven’t been able (yet) to fit singing into my life at this moment as I’m trying to resolve some sleep and anxiety issues for my son but decided the best thing I can do to get myself out there is try open mic. I’ve done karaoke and enjoy it but with open mic, anything goes and while I don’t play an instrument, I hope someone will give me a chance just to open up my mouth and sing. I’ve been going back and forth deciding whether or not I would like to try out for The Voice. I’m a fan and love the fact that they really are just listening to your voice and it would be amazing to have coaching from any of the artists on the show to become an even better singer. I’m not a perfect singer by any means but it would be great to get coaching on singing songs out of my comfort zone (which is typically ballads-r&b, old school soul—aka Anita Baker, Aretha Franklin, Etta James, Nina Simone).  And the exposure would be wonderful too. I’ll keep everyone posted!

KHN:  Your son, Daniel has autism, as an advocate tell us what do you think about this public awareness about people who are autistic and gives some example what is happening locally for your teenage son.

Darla Lennox: As you know April is Autism Awareness Month and people are aware of autism because it happens in 1 out of every 88 children, but now I have read that the CDC (Centers for Disease Control) is now saying that autism is being diagnosed in 1 out of every 50 children. Autism has been at the forefront of the news for quite a while now and I’m all for awareness but what we need, as families of persons with autism, is acceptance for our loved ones! I support Autism Society of America because they really work hard to get more resources for families with autism and they do it in a way that is respectful and appreciates people with autism as they are (at least this is my opinion). And I know I’m gonna get some flack for this but I’m not a huge fan of Autism Speaks because the commercials play the melodramatic music that autism is a horrible tragedy and that children with autism do not like hugs, do not smile, etc. My son is very affectionate, smiles, laughs, and hugs. There was a video, oh I want to say 3-4 years ago, that they put out where they were talking to families of children with autism and one person talked about wanting to strap herself and her son with autism in a car and driving off a bridge.  This is extremely troubling and you have seen the numerous stories in the news about children and adults with not only autism but other disabilities being killed or hurt by their loved ones. Stories like this can be avoided with ACCEPTANCE of autism, ACCEPTANCE of disability as a natural part of life! One person with autism is just that, one person. My son is not “Rainman”, he cannot tell you how many toothpicks you’ve dropped on the floor. He is not able to talk but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have something or nothing to say. And while he has some behaviors (such as the not sleeping) that are stressful, I love him as he is.  What’s happening locally? Well, there is an autism support group where I live but I stopped attending after the first meeting when I realized I was the only one with a teenage son with autism and the rest had really young children who were repeating what they were hearing  and one parent said, they wish their child wouldn’t talk so much. I just shook my head thinking, “I would love for my son to talk so much, to say anything” and just felt a disconnect. There are many services for children with autism when they’re young but they’re practically non-existent the older they get, particularly when they are teenagers.  Puberty is hard enough but when you add autism to the mix, it can be a trying time for the teenager and the family.  This lack of services for teens with autism isn’t just an issue here, it’s an issue everywhere.

KHN:  You also have a daughter, Ana, that is not disabled, tell us as brother and sister growing up together what was like as a mother making sure that both got enough attention from you and realizing that Daniel would get more attention.

Darla Lennox: Anna’s father and I always made sure as the kids were growing up that we took the time to have a mommy/daughter or daddy/daughter night to get her out of the house and have some fun because she wasn’t just a sister, she was also a third caretaker of Daniel. People ask me if Anna will take care of Daniel after me or Correy are gone and I say no and they are surprised. Anna has been a 3^rd parent of Daniel all her life, she deserves to have her own life outside of her brother and it’s up to us as his parents to make sure we have people we trust to take care of Daniel’s long term needs after we’re gone.

KHN:  You grew up with Deaf parents tell us is there a community/organizations for children of Deaf parents and was there pressure on you as a hearing child at that time?

Darla Lennox:  Yes, I am known as a CODA (Child of Deaf Adult) and there is a CODA organization where they have yearly conferences across the United States and the world where CODAs get together to meet and share their experiences of growing up with deaf parents. I went to one conference in 2010 and it was a wonderful experience that opened up a lot of memories for me. My brother and sister also went with me and it was wonderful having that time to bond and share our memories with other CODAs.  The CODA conference is one place where you can be you and people understand if you break out into signing as you talk because it’s just a natural part of you. Yes, there was a lot of pressure on me growing up as the oldest child of deaf parents because at that time, there was no videophone to make phone calls to businesses, there was no relay yet, there was the oldest child making the phone calls to the electric company or the car loan place on “hey the bill will be late this month” or interpreting doctor visits with the parents. I didn’t question why I had to make the phone calls or interpret, I just did it because they were my parents and I wanted to make sure that whoever they needed to talk to understood that they were deaf and that I would be interpreting the conversation for them.

KHN:  On a relationship tip:  As a White non-disabled woman going out with a Black disabled man give us what kind of reactions you got from being in public with me.

Darla Lennox: Oh man, that look when we are walking down the street and you put your hand on my shoulder for support, it’s the “oh she must be his caretaker” look. Or that time we took the bus to Golden Gate Park and there were no more seats so you sat while I stood and held the strap and you were rubbing my thigh and this older lady just stared us down especially when I leaned over and kissed you. Yet she didn’t bat an eye when a couple sitting right next to her were on each other’s lap! I’m going to kiss you on the city bus, in a restaurant, or as we’re walking down a street and I don’t care who looks!

KHN: What kind of insights you have witness from going out with a Black disabled man?

Darla Lennox: That I’m still learning about aging and disability and I see it when you’ve walked too much in a day, your hips start hurting, especially your lower back and I saw this for myself one visit when we spent the day in San Francisco to see Candy Kane at Biscuit N Blues. The next day we got together with your sister, Melissa and the boys at the park and it took you a little longer walking back to the bus stop afterwards. That evening I just massaged your hips and lower back the best I could so that you weren’t in so much pain and we just chilled at home the next day.

KHN:  What does the world needs to know about dating a person with a developmental disability and what are the general assumptions in the general public about intimate relationships when it comes to non-disabled dating a person with a disability?

Darla Lennox: The world needs to know that just because someone has a developmental disability or any other type of disability doesn’t mean that they don’t want a relationship and it certainly doesn’t mean they can’t have one either.  This is my first time being in a relationship with a disabled man and what I’ve found is you gotta be honest and ask questions if you don’t know, particularly when it comes to getting intimate. You can’t act like the disability isn’t there because it is and while one sexual position may not work (yes, I said it “sexual position”) because it doesn’t feel right physically, there are others that may and you go for it! Touch itself can happen in a variety of ways and as long as you are both open and honest with each other about what you do or don’t like, its all good.  And on that note, don’t underestimate the power of a good phone sex call!

KHN:  What are your thoughts about marriage and the state knowing the fight for people who are LGBTQ and the penalties against people with disabilities if they get marry.

Darla Lennox: I don’t think the state or anyone has any business dictating whom people can and cannot marry whether it be man/man or woman/woman. How does one gay marriage affect a heterosexual couple’s marriage? It doesn’t! People need love and they should love whom they want to love. Now as far as people with disabilities getting penalized for getting married? That’s a load of bullshit because people with disabilities who get SSI or SSDI need it to pay for their housing, meals, transportation, clothing, etc. and to say “Well if you marry your disabled or non disabled partner, you will lose your check”.  It’s rare for anyone to be able to live on one income in a relationship, not to say it can’t be done but with things being as high as they are these days, a couple needs their income. People with disabilities want marriage just as much as gays/lesbians do, to have their relationships recognized and be given the same rights as nondisabled married persons: the right to visit their husband/wife in the hospital, to be added onto their insurance policy, etc.

KHN:  Is it true that mothers who have children with disabilities are nine times out of ten are their full time advocate even in a marriage?

Darla Lennox: I would say more times than not, this is true not to downplay the role of fathers because there are many fathers who do so much for their children. I know for myself, there could be 2-3 adults in the room who can give Daniel a hand but he always comes to me to help him. Mom is who more children with disabilities gravitate to, mom is the one who keeps the records of doctor visits, who knows what the child can or cannot have as far as allergies go, and who the child will go to when they are sick and tired.

color:black">KHN:   color:black">You’ve been writing lyrics to your own songs.  How many songs have you written and what subjects you write about?

Darla Lennox: I would say it’s about 30-32 songs I’ve written and many of my songs are about love, falling in love (gee, I wonder who the inspiration was for those songs?) finding strength in yourself and finding yourself again, having faith when life gets you down, and the power of sisterhood.

KHN:  You have sing at weddings and other events.  Where else do you want to sing and where do you want to take your singing talent?

Darla Lennox: See earlier question—jazz clubs and The Voice!

KHN:  Who are your top three singers and why?

Darla Lennox: 3?? Really Leroy, like I can limit this to 3 singers?! 1. Tie between Nina Simone-because of her politics, her artistry, and amazing voice and Aretha Franklin because she is the reason why I wanted to sing and her powerful voice.  2. Stevie Wonder-because no one else can play the harmonica like him, because I love his songs and politics, and if I have to pick a final 3^rd singer, 3. Peter Gabriel because he is an amazing lyricist who knows how to write songs that pull you into the human condition—grief, love, despair, hope, I love his voice and his ongoing work for Amnesty International.

KHN:  You are also a poet.  Do you turn you poems into songs and do you see Poetry and Songs interchangeable?  Share one of your poems/songs with us.

Darla Lennox: Yes, sometimes. I’ve got a poem that is leaning towards a song and it’s about Daniel. I’ve got to get back to it and see where I can go with it.

Okay, here’s a poem that was inspired by my son. I don’t have a title for it.

What is “normal”?

Who decides it?

How is it that you, he, she, society seems to know what it is and compare and

contrast him to it?

Do you think if you look up autism in the dictionary-you will find a picture of my son?

I think not yet loved ones fret when their friends’ young grandchild is twirling in circles in the backyard

“Oh no, the child has autism!”

Taking a simple childhood pleasure and make it clinical slapping the label of autism on it

“Oh of course it’s autism, “normal” children do not spin around.”

‘Can my child catch it?”

“Catch what?” I ask.

“That, that autism thing?” they ask as they look at my child.

“No!” I answer in a defiant, disgusted tone

Thinking to myself, “Damn movie, “Rainman!” makes people ask me stupid questions about my son, “Does he have special skills?”

I say, “Well he seems to know where I hide the Oreos, does that count?”

They shake their heads incredulous at my flip remark

Perhaps I’m not anguished enough

They’re no longer blessing my heart or “blessing his heart”

when I say my son has autism

Damn that Autism Speaks!

They do not speak for me nor my son

Commercials that talk about the warning signs of autism

I understand and can appreciate now

As I did not get these warnings twelve years ago

The diagnosis was autism

but life was not over

as many thought it would be

Yet here I am today

growing disgusted

listening to experts who say a child with autism doesn’t return smiles

Says who?

One child with autism is just that-one child.

My child with autism smiles, he laughs, he loves, he speaks with his eyes

when the words don’t come, he sprints through the house

he shrieks in joy, happiness, frustration and anger

He knows and understands a lot more than people

give him credit for

He can be goofy and he can be a little shit

And it has nothing to do with autism

It is a 15 year old boy named Daniel

who loves Swiss Cake rolls, his mom, dad, and sister, Anna,

to ride on go karts,

and oh yeah, he also has autism.

So again I ask, “What is normal?”

And who are you, he, she, and society to compare my son

To this word, this standard?

Who are you to define my son by this label-“normal”, “autistic”?

His name is Daniel, thank you very much,

and he’s my son.

Darla J. Lennox

KHN:  What is in your future when it comes to your family, career, music and your relationship with Leroy Moore?

Darla Lennox:  For the near future, continuing my work in vocational rehabilitation working with persons who are Deaf and who have Autism find employment that is meaningful and tailored to their needs; getting my daughter through these last couple of months of high school as she graduates in June; getting into some open mics and possibly The Voice, continuing writing and finishing my book about growing up with and around disability and securing a job and resources for Daniel in California so that within the next 2 years, so I can move there and be with Mr. Leroy Moore all the time!

KHN: Tell us a cute thing/and on the other side what piss you off about Leroy

Darla Lennox: A cute thing? Oh the way your voice becomes soft at the end of our nightly calls when you say “Good night”. What pisses me off about Leroy? When you get heavy into your work and projects and forget to give me a call or say hey. I know you’re a hard workingman baby, but dang, throw your girl a bone or better yet a kiss sometimes! 

KHN: Any last words?

mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";color:black">Darla Lennox: color:black"> Thank you for being who you are and giving recognition to all of the amazing women in your life and in the world for this month. Thank you for interviewing me, I really enjoyed it. Much love baby, always

Papa Bear took a seat near the edge of POOR Magazine’s Community Newsroom circle, settling into his chair as another poverty-scholar-reporter finished speaking. He’s POOR’s “Panhandler Reporter,” joining the newsroom for his monthly report: a state of the city address for houseless people, based on what he witnesses and studies daily in the Tenderloin.

He leaned forward in his chair and gestured slowly with his hands as he taught. “Sit-lie is moving up on the outskirts of the Tenderloin,” he explained, referencing the San Francisco ordinance, passed in 2010, that criminalizes houselessness and poverty by making it a crime to sit down on a public sidewalk. (Fascinatingly, although my white, college-educated ass has sat on many a public sidewalk in San Francisco, I have yet to be ticketed or harassed.) “If they don’t give you a ticket for blocking the sidewalk in front of the office buildings, they’ll give you one for sit-lie.” Although sit-lie passed in 2010, Papa Bear’s story suggests that enforcement is picking up in areas that are undergoing most intense gentrification.

Papa Bear continued, “There’s a new security company in town: Legion Security.” He described the all-black Legion cars that had seemed to surface in the streets overnight. Legion has taken over security for the building nearest to where Papa Bear usually stays. They’re making his life more and more difficult, although Papa Bear has certainly been there longer than this new security company has.

“And,” Papa Bear sighed slow, pained, “People are still dropping like flies. I’m getting a little nervous that I’ve been living and breathing the atmosphere in the Tenderloin for 8 years, sleeping on the street there.” He was succinct, clear, hurt by the words: houseless people in the Tenderloin are dying, many of them.

As the uneasiness and grief settled over the newsroom, someone asked Papa Bear if he had any ideas about why so many people were dying recently. He paused. “I never assume, and I never guess.” Although he knows the people and the place so well, he didn’t try to explain away the crisis. He let it hang in the air, heavy and unresolved.

Someone else raised her hand and said that, since Papa Bear is a veteran, the VA might have something to offer him to help him find housing. He nodded along with her as she explained her suggestion. “I want my own pension to pick my own place,” he said softly, precisely. He continued by explaining that they’ve taken his pension away and would take away his decision-making power over where and how he’d be living, if he went through the VA. Before he rose to head back to the Tenderloin, he closed his report, saying simply: “I dislike having someone else live my life I’m supposed to be living.”

Lydia Brown Takes Us Around Autistic Community Politically & Culturally

Leroy Moore: Lydia, I saw your powerful video about the resent killings of people who are autistic by love ones and care takers. What has been your work around this issue?

Lydia Brown: Unfortunately, the very people who ought to be most supportive in their lives routinely murder autistic people. This is a common trend across disabled populations and is by no means a unique phenomenon in the autistic community. The video to which you refer was filmed at the Autistic Self Advocacy Network’s second annual vigil in Washington DC, as part of a National Day of Mourning for disabled people murdered by family members or caregivers—this event has been coordinated both years by Zoe Gross. I hope to be able to lend my voice to the fight against such gross injustices against disabled people. If my words or my work or even my very existence might lend credence to the unfortunately radical idea that disabled existence is no less worthwhile or valuable than able-bodied, neurotypical existence, then I may well succeed in some small way in turning the tide against the attitudes that dehumanize us and lead to our murders.

Leroy Moore: Being a person of color is it harder to get your ethnic community around disability issue and have you experience racism in the autistic community?

Lydia Brown: I am in a unique position where I am a transracial adoptee—my parents are white. As a result, I have largely been disconnected from the Asian, Asian-American, and Chinese communities, and find myself at times a stranger everywhere. That said, I have experienced casual racism and micro aggressions in both the autism and autistic communities. For example, discussions about social attitudes toward autistic people or availability of support services frequently center and privilege North American and Western European perspectives while systematically dismissing and de-legitimizing (or else, tokenizing or appropriating) perspectives from communities outside the white North American/Western European experience. Ableism is also frequently compounded by racism and classism that result in public policies on service eligibility and provision that disproportionately deny access to necessary, quality services for autistics of color and poor autistics. Partially as a result of this phenomenon, white, upper-class autistics and their families are much more likely to be able to successfully advocate for necessary services or against unjust actions than poor autistics and autistic of color and their families.

Leroy Moore: You describe yourself as a Radical Leftist please explain.

Lydia Brown: As one of my friends (who identifies as a progressive, liberal Democrat) put it, I apparently make her look conservative. I use the term “radical leftist” to describe myself because it’s about as accurate and descriptive as I can get without resorting to labels associated with particular ideologies that may or may not align with my particular beliefs. My politics are heavily influenced by Marxist pedagogy (though I’m not a Marxist), in that I am concerned with a transformative vision of social justice that moves beyond an upper-class, white, cis-het, liberal politic and toward a pedagogy of unlearning oppression by deconstructing imperialism and postcolonialist social structures and rhetorical constructs. I analyze societal institutions, cultural locations, and social structures in terms of axes and hierarchies of oppressive systems, intersectionalities of oppression and privilege, and identity politics.

Leroy Moore: You work at the Disability Cultural Center at Georgetown University. What has the center done and is doing?

Lydia Brown: The Disability Cultural Center does not exist yet. I am leading the initiative to establish and sustain a Disability Cultural Center on campus. The purpose of a Disability Cultural Center will be to coordinate, sponsor, and fund educational and social programming on disability pride and power, disabled identity and culture, and disability community and history. This fall, we formed a planning committee for the future center comprised of members of the Georgetown University community and stakeholders in the surrounding Washington DC area. Currently, the committee is working to spread awareness of the initiative, garner support from community stakeholders, and write the formal proposal for the establishment of the center.

Leroy Moore: Do you think legislative avenues must solve all of our problems?

Lydia Brown: Certainly not. Legislative advocacy and public policy work are important and have their place, but these are by no means monolithic solutions to systemic problems. In fact, disabled people face many problems for which legislation or policy changes pose no solutions. For example, a state could pass a law regarding hate crimes on the basis of disability (perhaps by enumerating disability status of a victim as an aggravating factor in an offense motivated by hate), but the existence of that law—even if enforced—would not end the epidemic of hate crimes against disabled people. It certainly would do nothing to address the systemic socialized and acculturated ableism that leads to them.

Leroy Moore: What do you think of all of this right and left wing media on this so called high rates of autism and other mainstream media frame around autism?

Lydia Brown: Fear-mongering has always been a common rhetorical tactic in constructing disability as something pitiable, undesirable, and threatening. Sadly, discussion of autism in the mainstream media frequently falls into the same tired tropes. This type of public discourse leads to a callous disregard for the value and dignity of autistic existence that disproportionately funnels millions of dollars into cure-oriented (that is, eugenics) research while severely neglecting research on quality-of-life issues across the lifespan. It would be almost laughable if the same rhetoric didn’t directly contribute to the attitudes that enable judicial officers and the media to justify and excuse the perpetrators of hate crimes against autistic people.

Leroy Moore: Would you ever think about running for political office and do you think a disability activist should run for office?

Lydia Brown: It’s not out of the question, but it’s certainly not an idea to which I’ve given too much thought. As I mentioned earlier, public policy advocacy on issues that impact disabled people is unquestionably important and necessary. Holding elected office could provide a disability activist a robust platform for addressing much-needed policy reform from an insider’s position, though such a decision should be undertaken with consideration to the significant amount of time and effort that must be invested for a successful political campaign, as well as both the potential advantages for and barriers to effecting meaningful change. It’s definitely not a choice for everyone, but yes, we should be able to participate directly in the policy-making process.

Leroy Moore: Do you think people see the cultural, art, advocacy and stories of people with autism?

Lydia Brown: Outside the Autistic community? Generally not. The predominant narrative of the lives of autistic people—when we are the narrators, rather than those around us—is what is known as the self-narrating zoo exhibit. This phrase encapsulates the prevailing notion that the only appropriate and legitimate narrative any autistic person has to share is that individual’s personal and private experiences as an autistic person, and that our theories and musings on politics, identity, culture, philosophy, or policy are inappropriate, unnecessary, or somehow illegitimate. When mainstream media does recognize the advocacy work of actually autistic people, it is usually presented like inspiration porn—a feel-good, human interest story that exploits the trope of disabled people as mentally defective and infantile by portraying anything we do as extraordinarily special and sweet simply because we are disabled. There are a few exceptions to these trends, but unfortunately, they have yet to enter the mainstream. Spaces like the Autism National Committee’s annual conference (AutCom) and the University of New Hampshire’s Autism Summer Institute often provide grounds where autistic people immersed in autistic culture engage with non-autistics genuinely concerned with becoming effective allies. Other spaces where Autistic culture flourishes, like Autreat and many small, private email lists, are largely unacknowledged by the neurotypical majority and provide spaces centered around Autistic people.

Leroy Moore: What are the main campaigns that you see are important to your community?

Lydia Brown: - Ending hate crime
- Ending healthcare discrimination (especially with regard to denial of life-saving treatment)
- Closing institutions and abolishing segregated schools, workplaces, and residences
- Ending abusive practices in educational and treatment settings (including restraint, seclusion, and aversive)
- Developing more equitable policies and practices for equal access and opportunity in housing, education, and employment
- Expanding access to augmentative and alternative communication for both autistic children and adults
- Shifting research dollars toward quality-of-life and lifespan issues

Leroy Moore: Tell us about the work of The Autistic Self Advocacy Network and what are they working on now?

Lydia Brown: This month, ASAN is launching the Autism Acceptance Month website (www.autismacceptancemonth.com) as part of a history of campaigns by autistics and allies to rebrand April from Autism Awareness Month to Autism Acceptance Month. ASAN is also sponsoring the Loud Hands Project (spearheaded by Julia Bascom), which is a transmedia celebration and collection of Autistic culture and community that released its first product, the Loud Hands: Autistic People, Speaking anthology, this past fall. ASAN is also a partner for the new National Center on Leadership for the Employment and Economic Advancement of People with Disabilities (LEAD Center), and will be collaborating with a number of key disability rights and employment organizations to develop resources and provide technical assistance on fully integrating disabled people into the workplace. More recently, ASAN released a policy brief on organ transplant discrimination against disabled people that can be found on the website at www.autisticadvocacy.org. Further information about ASAN’s projects is also posted to the website.

Leroy Moore: Do you think that disability studies do a good job in teaching about people with autism and what they have provided in our communities?

Lydia Brown: When done right. Disability studies courses that actually emphasize and center the perspectives, theories, literature, and histories of disabled people—in this case, autistics—do well in countering ableist structures in academia that typically marginalize those perspectives while privileging able-bodied neurotypicals. Unfortunately, not all disabilities studies courses remember to do this, particularly in regard to autism, and frequently fail to acknowledge the agency, competence, contributions, and relevance of autistic authors, scholars, and theorists.

Leroy Moore: Have you been following police brutality/killings of people with autism?

Lydia Brown: Unfortunately. The area where disability policy intersects with criminal justice policy has long been an interest of mine, and is actually where my own advocacy began. Motivated by a concern for the potential and actual violations of the rights of autistics (and other developmentally disabled people) like me, I wrote legislation in Massachusetts that would mandate training about autism for all law enforcement and corrections officers in the state in 2009 that was filed for the third time this January. As part of my research prior to writing and filing the legislation initially, and as part of my advocacy now, I have been monitoring cases of wrongful confessions, wrongful arrests, police brutality, and police shootings and killings of autistics across the United States. I have a pretty thick binder sitting on my desk where I’ve printed about one-third of the news articles, police reports, and other materials pertaining to these cases. It’s a pretty depressing binder.

Leroy Moore: How can people support your work?

Lydia Brown: - Read writings by autistic people. Loud Hands: Autistic People, Speaking has an excellent collection of the foundational documents of our community as well as some of the best contemporary essays and blog posts as well.
- Take ASAN’s Autism Acceptance Month pledge not to participate in panels, conferences, or other events about autism that exclude autistic people.
- Donate money to organizations that actually represent and support autistic people. (Other than ASAN, the Autism Network International, the Autism Women’s Network, and the Autism National Committee all do good work; the cross-disability organizations TASH, Not Dead Yet, and the National Council for Independent Living are also good places to send money.)
- Find out what the laws are where you live about restraint, seclusion, and aversive. If the laws aren’t strong enough to protect disabled people from these abuses, contact your lawmakers and ask them to propose new laws that will.
- Find your local chapters of disability rights organizations or the nearest ASAN chapter, and ask what you can do to support their projects and campaigns in your own community.

Leroy Moore: What websites and other social networks that have strong politics and culture of people with autism?

Lydia Brown: The Autism Network International has a wonderful website at www.autreat.org, which is also the website for their annual retreat-style conference for the Autistic community. ANI also hosts a list-serv that’s been around since the 1990’s. The archives at http://archives.autistics.org provide an insight into the history and continual development of Autistic culture. ASAN’s website, at www.autisticadvocacy.org, tends to be more politically focused, though Julia Bascom’s Loud Hands Project (an initiative of ASAN) will become an ever-expanding transmedia celebration of Autistic culture.

LM Any last words?

Lydia Brown: Earlier today, medical staff at a hospital attempted to dissuade a prominent disability rights activist who is also Autistic from receiving a routine but life-saving treatment on the basis of disability status. Within the last week, a young man who murdered an autistic, gay acquaintance by dousing him in oil and setting him on fire received an appallingly lenient sentence of three and a half years in prison for the crime. These are both examples of the deadly consequences of ableist attitudes that devalue disabled lives and dehumanize disabled people. The struggle for Autistic rights is part of the struggle for disabled rights, which in turn, is part of the struggle for universal human rights and transformative social justice. For as long as teachers can restrain and seclude, clinicians can shock and traumatize, and family members and caregivers can abuse and murder with impunity, our struggle will not be over.

lydia@autistichoya.com.
Photo from the vigil was taken by Kory Otto-Jacob.

“They closed 56 schools in our neighborhoods, which is a serious situation- but it is also a challenge, which community leaders and families should seize to teach our children,” said Minister Abel Muhammad  from Chicago. My heart was already lifted by the spirits present at the 2^nd annual townhall,  Say It Loud, I’m Black and Proud and When I Say Black I mean Red and Brown sponsored by the Oscar Grant Foundation and Merrit College, but once the voices of so many deep and conscious voices like Abel Muhammad, Jasiri X and Cephus Johnson, aka Uncle Bobby began to speak it deepened the medicine for all of us present.

“We have all of this in us- all the strength our ancestors gave us,” We just need to recognize it,” said Lakota Harden, Native poet, orator and media producer (Minnecoujou/Yankton Lakota and HoChunk). After a beautiful offering of Afrikan libations and ritmo by Sidney Coulten Lakota continued to launch this beautiful day by making space for an inter-tribal prayer both from her Native Turtle Island tradition and from the Azteca Mexihca Danza group Calpulli Coatlicue (of which my son and I are part of) all of which brought our multi-cultures, spirits and ancestors into the room respectfully and in a good way to make this day a spiritual circle of change.

As the melanin challenged daughter of a Afrikan-Taino mama who struggled with so much racism and poverty on her life journey, I was blessed to bring her and other ancestors into the room with prayer with my Danza group, but I stayed the rest of the day because knew I had brought my 9 year olf son to the right circle of young peoples and elders where factory schools were questioned, where dominant, colonizers practices were resisted and where voices of our mamaz and daddys and communities were respected for the knowledge they hold from our many Red, Black and Brown communities.

“I am reminded of Elijah Muhammad who said we grow to accept our own’ most of the time we are divided from one another,” said Minister Keith Muhammad who launched a multi-generational, power-packed panel that lived and breathed real change, facilitated by hip hop activist Jasiri X and included Castlemont High School counselor Abbas, Palestinian Merritt College Student Lubna Morrar, community activist Tim Killings and acrobat/community skolar Jesus El to name a few. Each one bringing hard lessons on how to connect us all as youth and adults, elders and ancestors, Black, Red and Brown.

“BDS- Boycott, Divest and Sanction, the problem is we are so under the capitalist rule that we have lost our own community,” Lubna Morrar, bringing us to the roots of our separate-ness, “we have to Boycott, Divest and Sanction to break free from all this domination.

“I won’t stop until there is justice for my son,,” Jerralyn Blueford, mama of Alan Blueford Jr, murdered by Oakland Police in addition to Wanda Johnson, mother of BART police murder victim Oscar Grant and Cyndi Mitchell, sister of Mario Romero, murdered by Vallejo Police department , all brought their warrior mamas spirits into the room as one of many voices questioning police violence, community violence and the violence of capitalism destroying our Black and Brown young peoples.

“We are not that different, colonialism has separated us,” said Jose Rivera Xicano community historian and Richmond organizer  as part of the Q&A section.

“We need practical steps  for us to become as one, we need to start loving each other,” concluded Abel Muhammad All of the words spoken this day were deep, bringing consciousness, knowledge and healing for our collective, decolonizing souls bringing us to the understanding beyond what we are taught in corporate wite-supermacist media and institutions, that we are all one, and as one we must heal our Red, Black and Brown bodies and souls so we can raise our Red, Black and Brown children in a good way.

CLick here to connect with the Oscar Grant Foundation 

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A lot of people are confused when it comes to important facts about the murder of Mario Romero by officers of the Vallejo Police Department. Those who are unfamiliar with proper protocol and are comfortable with hearing the stories of people being shot and killed by police for allegedly possessing a firearm.

It is important to understand that in the case of Mario Romero he did not have a gun before one was planted on him by a corporal with the Vallejo Police department after he was murdered.

Mario Romero was sitting in front of his home when he was preyed upon by officers practicing their normal daily routine of harassing people because of the color of their skin. A lot of people do not understand that it is not against the law to sit in your car in front of your house at any time of the day or night because this is America and we have civil and constitutional rights.

Those rights of Mario Romero were violated to a horrible extent on September 2, 2012 when he was murdered by officers of the Vallejo Police.

Vallejo Police have counted on intimidation, stalking and harassment to silence witnesses and family of those who have been killed at their hands.

Vallejo police were counting on such intimidation to silence everyone who witnessed these crimes of Vallejo police.

Vallejo Police want you believe that a sane man would pull out a fake gun on two officers with real guns and unlimited bullets. A sane man who had just got a new promising job and was preparing to celebrate his 24th birthday.

A sane man who had a family who loved him as much as he loved them. This same sane man who was a hero to his 3 year old daughter.

The Vallejo Police have admitted to not identifying themselves. Before attacking Mario Romero’s car with bullets but have attempted to justify their actions through planting evidence to support their lies and slandering Mario’s name.

The Vallejo Police have not given an explanation for shooting at Mario so many times without any return fire. Shooting at an unarmed man was not enough for these blood thirsty animals. They had to reload and hop onto the hood of Mario’s car and continue to unload while the officer turned his head to have a conversation with a loved one of the victim while continuing to shoot her baby brother to death.

To violate a person’s rights is not enough, to kill an unarmed man unjustly and in front of his home, neighbors and family members is not enough. The Vallejo Police immediately made lies in an attempt to justify their criminal activity.

They changed their stories three different times, none making sense to a family who were so close to the victim as well as friends and neighbors who knew what had occurred on that horrifying night.

The Vallejo police lied saying that Mario got out of his car and pointed a fake gun at two real guns but they did not know that Mario’s car door was broken, his window had to be rolled down and his door had to be opened from the outside for him to exit his car.

They did not know that Mario’s seatbelt was broken and was tied into a knot, which he faithfully tied to prevent himself from getting a seatbelt ticket preventing him from leaving the car in an abrupt manner.

They did not know that their corrupt activities were being recorded. They were unaware that anyone saw the police issued training weapon being planted into Mario’s car. Nor did they know that they were observed stealing the seatbelt that Mario was cut from.

Vallejo Police Chief Slandered Mario’s name, falsely stating Mario as a parolee who was afraid of going back to prison, using this as a reason to say that Mario pulled out a fake gun on two officer’s with two real guns and unlimited bullets. This false statement was relayed to the media by the Vallejo Police Chief who was aware that it was a lie but has refused to publically admit his faults, further proving the agencies lack of accountability practices.

The assassination of a person’s character is the second death that Vallejo Police Department sentences their victims to after they have murdered them in the manner that they murdered Mario Romero.

This assassination is carried out with the hopes of making the lives of the people who have been killed seem insignificant as well as limiting public outcry over police misconduct.

Vallejo Police do not want you to know that Mario Romero was shot in his face and mouth and shot in the palms of his hands and wrists as well as his chest and underarms as he pleaded for his life, Nor do they want you to know that after unloading 30 + bullets into his car his body was stolen from the scene of the crime and hidden for a month as insensitive officers of the Vallejo police harassed and intimidated Mario’s family.

The person that the Vallejo Police have painted Mario Romero to be is far from the person he was. Mario was a very loving person and very easy to love. He met no strangers and was willing to help people that he did not know. Whether it be helping an elderly woman cross the street or giving a man that he did not know a ride. Mario was very close to his family and open about his activity. He was creative and loved making music as well has taking care of his 3 year old daughter who was his world. Mario was a kid at heart who wouldn’t hesitate to sit on the floor and play video games with his nieces and nephews. Or ask his older siblings if his clothes matched. Mario was one person who made sure that you knew that he loved you , never leaving out the door without saying “I Love you”, giving you a hug and a kiss. He was never shy with his affection, never too proud to express his love. He was very respectful always saying Yes ma’am or nor sir to his elders. All he ever wanted was to be was famous and make his family proud. Mario’s life being taken so brutally and unjustly has exposed and evil within the city of Vallejo that has been able to be hidden for so long. Mario’s family has always been proud to call him theirs and will continue to fight for justice for his murder as well as the murder, police brutality and discrimination that has been experienced by others.

We are all Mario Romero!

April 3, 2013

“These are our young people, our future African-American leaders, trying to fight to get an education, and this is who they are cutting services to,” said City College of San Francisco Student Body President Shanell Williams about the recent cutting of the GED van service that provided transportation from “The Point” (Hunters Point) to CCSF GED prep classes. “This was a tiny program with a minimal budget that meant so much to the community and is typical of the moves being made by the corporate-funded forces attacking our communities’ schools locally and nationally,” Shanell explained.

As a formerly houseless, very poor single mama whose life was truly saved by the affordable education, support services, free child care and so much more I received at CCSF, I have been terrified to watch the orchestrated and systematic attack on CCSF, one of the largest community colleges in the country with a student body of over 90,000 people, unfold. Like the sudden closure of 52 public schools in Chicago and more across the country, it is an act of violence against our poor and working class communities of color. To me its insidiousness and covert under-handedness feels like 21st century corporate COINTELPRO.

“This is their fault; they over-budgeted.” “They were sloppy with their accounting.” “They need to clean house.” One after the other, editors of small, wannabe corporate news agencies spoke a strangely similar party line in a press briefing I was invited to a couple of months back in the early stages of this corporate coup of City College, when weekly hit pieces would appear in the SF Chronicle. As these corporate media editors, albeit smaller and less influential than the Chronicle, were all saying the same thing I wondered how they were all so bought in. And then I did a little WeSearch (poor people-led, not philanthro-pimp led, research).

Like the Monsanto Protection Act, the support for all of this corporate destruction of our communities’ schools can be traced to as high up as the federal government and multi-million dollar mandates to privatize most of public education. President Obama’s 2009 American Graduation Initiative for community colleges is directly from the corporate playbook. The plan includes such privatizing measures as partnering with industries and for-profit schools, transferring loans to private lenders, and funding based on student progress.

One of the main players in the corporate coup is the Accrediting Commission for Community and Junior Colleges (ACCJC) who out of the blue gave City College an “F” and a deadline of March 15 to correct supposed defects or face closure. With Board of Trustees’ approval, a very corporate interim chancellor, being paid $1,000 a day, took a wrecking ball to CCSF – in the name of “austerity.”

Behind this huge corporate coup is the Illumina Foundation. It was funded by Sally Mae, the student loan and high stakes testing corporation, which, along with 21st century parachute liberal philanthro-pimps, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, “donated” $1.5 million to the WASC (Western Association of Schools and Colleges) or accreditation board so a comprehensive Karl Rove-style campaign of disinformation could be launched against the otherwise stellar and problem-free City College of San Francisco.

Why? Perhaps those 90,000 warm bodies would be generating a lot more profits in tuition and whole more student loan debt if they were enrolled in a private college like Heald, University of Phoenix, DeVry and Pepperdine and/or through the multitude of on-line universities being pushed heavily by the digital sweatshop perpetrators, the Gates Foundation.

And of course these kinds of campaigns work. Or do they? Yes, it’s true that since the disinformation campaign was launched, enrollment in CCSF has dropped from 90,000 to 85,000. People are understandably confused and scared. But the people are also mad and the people can only be lied to so much with a lie so blatantly obvious as this one against a college so large and deeply rooted in our community.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” roared the beautiful, multi-colored crowd of thousands of people who gathered on March 14 at City Hall in San Francisco.

“My ethnic studies teacher, my counselor and my women’s studies teacher all received pink slips. They are all about to lose their jobs if this push goes through,” Terrilyn Woodfin, my sister-mama, PNN poverty skolar, reporter and City College student told me. As I did more Wesearch I discovered that not only were massive layoffs being threatened, but administration staff and teachers are being told not to say anything and just go along with the flow to keep their jobs.

“What makes it so crazy-making is the people are being lied to in so many ways,” Shanell declared, proceeding to describe how Propositions A and 30, giving $14 million and $376 million to save City College, were passed resoundingly by San Francisco and California voters to protect City College. Yet no matter what, the corporate forces say, “It’s not enough,” and proceed with their deadly corporate wrecking ball trying to make sure that our people’s college no longer belongs to the people.

“Whose college? Our College!” The wave of thousands of people’s voices at City Hall rang in our collective ears. If we ever needed to put our bodies in the forefront of this fight, it is now.

Please show up with your bodies and souls to the Southeast Campus of City College, 1800 Oakdale at Phelps, in Bayview Hunters Point, San Francisco, on Wednesday, April 3, 6 p.m., to get involved and/or go on-line to saveccsf.org.