Story Archives 2000

At Beitbridge Border Post

09/24/2021 - 11:45 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

by Staff Writer

Consider this pinpoint of entry at Beitbridge

And loose control to the neurosis of this border

To paper passports, rubber stamps and ink

That simply professes where one belongs

Consider also the money-mongering border-man

Maybe he is trying to uphold the order of things

Maybe he is trying to survive through this order of things.



The order of things is now more stunning

That when they were running out of their country

Nobody showed anyone passports, rubber stamps and ink

Entries and exits were at every point

Without this stunning awareness of this border

So time, like water, flows away and is soon forgotten

And the raven shivers into the wind at this point of entry.



From a breathe of a connection

From the brutality of denying this connection

From borders become electric walls

From bonds broken by borders

From standing all day long at border post counters

From standing all day long at home affairs offices



From laws made to make us feel illegal

From eyes which tell which land belongs to which people

From sleeping all night long in tall birch trees

From a pack of hungry lions

From a pack of border-gangsters, hyenas and wild dogs.



The voices are still coming up from the river

The river roars into our ears one song

Of the history of a people who have lost their way

Over and over again.



It is a hammer’s job that trampled the place we were born

Our country is now a bleeding wound that cannot contain us

But in the looking we discover the absence of blood

Whilst we stumble along this mad road

Of becoming citizens in another country

And being fully human some day.



So we live in a remembered sorrow

The lost ones are like this-an unborn soul

The ones left alone, humankind’s bastard daughter

Just a colourless corpse!



It is an African phenomenon, I tell you

It is the thing that has come out of all of Africa

Like an imitation of an imitation

But always pretending to ourselves

What selves, I ask you

Broken men, broken women, broken children

Broken, broken, broken, broken, broken.

Tags

Bustin’ My Butt

09/24/2021 - 11:44 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

by Leroy F. Moore

Bustin’ My Butt

"Working 9 to 5…"
Dolly Parton sang
But I’m bustin’ my butt 24/7
"I bring home the bacon…"
Remember that song
I’m bustin’ my butt keating leftovers

People say what goes around comes around
I’m bustin’ my butt
But no money is circling around me
Others say give and it will come back to you
My closet and heart are emptied
But bills are all I have received

Revolutionaries will die for the cause
But what is the real cause
They are busin’ their butts for
And striving to death

"Just give it time!"
Tell that to my pocket and stomach
Tick tick tick tick
Time is ticking and I am wasting away physically and mentally

Bustin’ my butt for what
Somebody ate my piece of the pie
The American Dream is a lie
My life is like Good Times

Busted my butt for that white paper so I get some green paper
But I was told I need more white paper
So I took out a loan

Now Uncle Sam wants some green paper for the white I received

I’m bustin’ my butt
But I’m still broke
Stress out and beat down
Need to calm down before I have a stroke

DAMO’s 1st Annual
Celebrating Ourselves

It was a beautiful day, not drop dead gorgeous. The sun raised up on August 30th 2000 and DAMO’s staff got busy. It was our first ever Celebrating Ourselves Blasting Stereotypes on Visible & Invisible Disabilities event at McLaren Park Amphitheater in San Francisco.

Walking like zombies, with sleep in our eyes, the DAMO staff crowed into the kitchen to make one hundred lunches, hang up posters and blow up balloons.. All the obstacles we had run into for the last three months of organizing this event , didn’t matter on this sunny morning. Like they say in Hollywood "the show must go on!". We descended on McLaren Park Amphitheater at 9:00am. And oh my God did the show ever go on!

Like busy ants we covered the Amphitheater and turned it into a rainbow of colors. Time was ticking away while the sun beamed down on us helping us relax. The feet of children and adults scrambled around the Amphitheater decorating the stage and the seats. The show was scheduled for 11:00-2:00 and we were doing good on time. For entertainment we had a raffle and prizes, a live DJ and dancers, a dance contest a poet, and yours truly was the first disabled black clown. For refreshments we had the lunches we packed plus 7UP and Frito Lays donated three cases of soda and chips.

The gates opened and we waited for our audience. The show stared at 12:00pm. (better late than never!). Idell Wilson and I welcomed the crowd. The sun spilled over the park and because of the heat I had to take off my blue, red and yellow clown wig. The DJ did not waste any time pumping up the crowd with our theme song. The whole show was like climbing a ladder: the poets, artists and the energy of the hosts with the hot licks of the DJ took everybody higher and higher.

At lunchtime everybody mingled and got to know the artists and the vision of DAMO. We raffled off toys, Tupperware and we even had a disabled Barbie! The most amazing element of the whole day was the children. Half the audience was teens and children. They made the show come together by dancing on stage and winning our raffles. They danced with disabled poets and artists without hesitation.

The show ended with a call for people to get involved in Disability Advocates of Minorities Organization (DAMO). We spoke of the emergency that disabled minorities are in today and expressed our need for help.

One last note: this event could not have happened without support from the Women’s Foundation, Bay Area Homeless Program, LA FAMILIA, 7-up Bottling Company, Frito Lays Company and all the artists and poets who participated. A big special thanks goes out to the staff of DAMO - especially Idell Wilson and her children.

DAMO plans to make Blasting Stereotypes on Invisible & Visible Disability an annual event! We’ll see you next year!

By Leroy F. Moore
Founder and Executive Director of
Disability Advocates of Minorities Org., DAMO

Tags

INNOCENT FOOTSTEPS

09/24/2021 - 11:44 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

by by Ka Ponda

My body had convinced my mind that a hot meal and a peaceful
environment would soothe the exhaustion caused by the rigor of the grueling
day. The aroma from a nearby restaurant titillated my palate as my feet
labored down the red, brick path. Suddenly, out of a recess, the sound
of a distressed voice pierced my left ear. Inhaling my cigarette, I paused
to listen to its cry. It was the impassioned plea of a man asking if someone
could help him through the maze of people on the bustling downtown San
Francisco street. Before I could reply, the thunder of a menacing voice
pierced my right ear, "Vacate the premises immediately!!"

I was perplexed as to why the men in blue had directed the glower of
their bigotry at my, for no apparent reason. I then asked, "Why must I
vacate, since I just stopped?"

"Because there is no loitering here" they yelled back to me.

The person for whom I had stopped revived his courage, grumbled some
inaudible gibberish and departed like a bandit. The wind chased the ruddy
ashes of the cigarette to the edge of my lips as the nicotine particles
slowly tumbled to claim their place amid the other debris on the street.
After a quick dialogue of barbs, I tossed the butt of the spent cigarette
and thought it wise to move along. 

"Why are you giving me a ticket?" I asked, incredulously.

Using the ticket as his dagger, the man in blue retorted with a wry
expression, "For littering, have a nice day!"

1997

The morning hinted of
a nice day.

It was the kind of magic in the air that only a crisp day in late December
could produce. I deposited my paycheck and withdrew funds from the bank
and started on my way to work. As I walked east on Golden Gate Street in
the direction of Stockton Street, I stopped to talk with a former co-worker,
Ronnie Eagles. We talked in front of the building out of which Mr. Eagles
had still been employed.

As we talked, a voice blared, "Hey John, are you still on parole?" It
sounded like the hue and cry directed toward an habitual criminal or some
low-life individual and not a civilized person attempting to communicate
with another person.

We turned to see a haggardly,
bleary-eyed person sitting in an automobile staring straight into my eyes,
seething for an answer to his question,. I calmly informed the person that
my name was not John and I had never gone to prison. He then demanded that
I come to his car and show him some identification. He had not shown me
anything representative of an official of the law, nor was he in a San Francisco
Police Department uniform. Since I had just come from the bank, I had no
intention of opening my wallet to a person inside a car behind the steering
wheel with the motor running. As Mr. Eagles and I stood, the two men stormed
out of the car in a frenzy and barreled toward me. I had never seen these
two men in my entire life and was baffled that they pretended to have known
me and wondered about their intent. Once again, I reiterated to them, "My
name is not John, and I have never in my life been in prison." 

One of the two men flashed a badge as he aggressively moved towards
me. When I saw his badge I realized that I had been arbitrarily singled
out for harassment and that my rights, guaranteed by the Fourth Amendment
to the Constitution, had been violently trampled upon by these two agents
of the law. I asked Mr. Eagles to walk inside the office building and get
the staff attorney, Judy Appel. Mr. Eagles returned with a video camera
and documented the incident. He stopped recording and went inside, again,
to get the director, Paul Boden.

The two officers handcuffed and crammed me into the front seat of their
small car while Messrs. Boden and Eagles were coming out. The car was not
designed to transport a six-foot person in handcuffs as I was in a contorted
position during the trip.

At the police station, I was asked to be seated on a metal bench while
still wearing handcuffs. I informed them that I had a bad knee due to an
operation for torn anterior cruciate ligaments and that it was aggravated
by the position in which I had been during the trip in the small car. They
forcibly shoved me onto the metal bench and then began jeering me as though
I had been brought in for some heinous crime. The sergeant, who had no
knowledge of what had happened or why I was there, chimed in with a ludicrous,
stereotypical comment that he was going to send me back to prison, as though
I had already been in prison. 

After they had checked my records, they removed the handcuffs from my
wrists and released me. I called my employer, J. Boragine & Associates,
and explained what had happened and that I was in no physical condition
to report to work. I went to the emergency room at San Francisco General
Hospital on Saturday, December 20th, and was provided with treatment.

Tags

No Feliz Dia Del Padre

09/24/2021 - 11:44 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

Day laborers present the Mission Police Chief and Mayor Willie Brown with a handwritten father’s day card.

by Javier Guiterrez/PNN

I have worked para muchos anos (I have worked for many years). I have done anything and everything just to feed myself and my family- now I am tired. I sell my labor on the street – hoping that at the end of each month I will be able to send money home to my family in Mexico, and put poco dinero away for another time, another place. There is only one problem, the new police chief, Greg Corrales of The Mission Police station has decided "to clean up" el’ Mision. What he means by that is to clean up agente pobre – the poor people. Since he has been at the job he has been "cracking down" on flower and Tamale vendors, (mostly elder mujeres), day laborers like me and homeless people who sleep on the streets. That is why we will have no feliz dia del padre.this year…that is why we had to speak up.

‘Tenemos que ser Unidos’ (We Must Be United), "We have to lose our fear, we have to stand up for our rights, Daniel Rosas, a fellow day laborer spoke outside of the Mission Police Station on Friday, June 15. Over 50 day laborers came to the station to present the police chief and Mayor Willie Brown with a handwritten father’s day card

We have held repeated meetings, marches, speak-outs, and individual talks, to express our views but the Mission police station continues to ticket us and our potential employers for minor traffic violations and they refuse to strategize around alternate methods of ensuring traffic safety. That’s why we have decided to appeal to the Mission Police station one more time and then to take our demands to the person to whom the police are accountable - Mayor William Brown.

"We are not against the workers, we think they are fine, we just want them to have their own place.." Mission resident Joe Pacoro told another reporter from PNN in an interview after the laborers had left the Mission to visit the Mayor.

"The program they have now doesn’t work, it’s a %100 failure, if they took a building that’s being offered to them out on Bayshore they could have a big roomy place, it’s a great building" , stated another mission resident who openly supported the policies of the new police captain . "the police chief is doing a great job"

When asked what they thought of the new building that The San Francisco Day Labor Program had secured on Cesar Chavez Blvd they replied, "It’s a Whole in the WALL!!"

We asked a representative from The SF Day Labor Program why she thought the Mission residents called the new building a whole in the wall, she replied, " Because they want to move the workers out of the area, they want to get rid of us, that’s what this whole thing is about" She went on to relate a police "set-up" that took place a few weeks ago where they told the workers to move to another area and then proceeded to load them into a police van and arrest them, " Chief Corrales openly stated that he did that blatant set-up just to teach the workers a lesson"

"The Chief is doing a great job, he just doesn’t want the workers to get run over, he wants them out of harms way" one of the Mission residents proclaimed when told about the police round-up.

When we arrived at The Mayor’s office later that morning we were told that the Mayor couldn’t speak to us today because he was muey occupado
(very busy) but his press secretary would present our card to the mayor, and that he would be happy to meet with some of us on another day, many of us decide to wait for as long as it takes….

I have worked para muchos anos.. Now I am tired, I only hope that we will be listened to, that we can be left alone to work, to feed our families, only then will this be a Feliz dia Del Padre.

Tags

Honoring Our Covenant of Compassion with Homeless People

09/24/2021 - 11:44 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

Religious leaders, Houseless folks and Advocates meet to tell the truth of the legislation Care Not Cash

by Tiny/PNN

Houzless chyle….

sky iz r roof

keepin us lookin up.

windowz r tha eye’z of r people

showin us socitiez

justice iz just.ice.

capitalizm has no human worth

Excerpt from the poem :Houzless Chyle by Jewnbug, Po’ Poetz ProjecK of, POOR Magazine

"We are here today to hear the truth of homelessness and to remind people that there are homeless people who have died on our streets….we have to find a more compassionate way to solve homelessness and to be compassionate really means to suffer with people and through the identification with people, to relieve their suffering," I watched the warm brown eyes of Reverend Dorsey Blake from the Church of the Fellowship of all
Peoples as he prepared to participate in the multi-denominational, and truly inspiring Covenant of Compassion ceremony held last Sunday in San Francisco’s City Hall plaza. As he spoke, I clutched a handmade wooden cross, one of 100 crosses created by the ceremonies organizers; Religious Witness with Homeless People covered with the name of a houseless San Franciscan who had passed, unnoticed, uncounted, unnamed and unremembered, until now, on the ice-like streets of San Francisco in 2004.

As a formerly houseless, member of POOR Magazine’s Po Poets Project, I, too was preparing to participate by spitting spoken Wordz and poverty scholarship with my fellow po’ poets Jewnbug and, A. Faye Hicks, in a day focused not only on honoring the houseless who have passed but also to hear, recognize and act compassionately on the real story behind the racist, classist, anti-homeless people legislation known as Care Not Cash(CNC) launched as the mayoral platform for Gavin Newsom

"We live in very violent times when the current (presidential) administration is more outraged at a breast shown at a football game than the systematic abuse and torture of people in Iraq, Afghanistan and Guantanamo Bay" The day began by hearing from

Assemblyman Mark Leno who along with SF supervisors Chris Daly and Bevan Dufty sponsored a legislation that would force the City to start counting and naming the City’s homeless who died on the streets, a process which used to happen every year but was ended in 2001, Mark continued, "when violence is so glorified, humanity and the value of humans is debased –we need to put a name and a face on the people that have died on the streets"

SF Supervisor Chris Daly followed him,"Its not just about the fact that people who have died on our streets should not go unmarked and un-mourned but its also about analyzing how we’re doing as a city and a society on one of our most difficult and confusing issues, homelessness"., With his support of this and other issues Chris continues to be one of the few consistently progressive voices on the board for economic justice in San Francisco

"Allaaaaaaah Aloo Akebah" After the triumphant news that we had won back the right to recognize the passing of San Francisco's’ homeless, the diminutive and powerful Sister Bernie, Executive Director of Religious Witness with Homeless People launched the days cross denominational "Solemn Opening of Service" which included a Buddhist bell sounding, a Jewish horn, a song about homelessness and a haunting Muslim chant by Souleiman Ghali. As he sung/chant I was transported to the multiple targets of Bush/Cheny Inc.'s Krusades/kolinazation efforts in Iraq, Afghanistan and Iran and mused at the similar ways in which the corporate media promoted international abuses and local abuses of marginalized and unheard peoples.

"We come here today because our sisters and brothers with no homes have asked us to listen to them in their time of suffering despite the rosy picture created by the media" After the Solemn service Reverend Jana Drakka described the focus of the covenant of compassion, "Throughout the past eight months that the legislation Care not Cash has been in effect the media has repeatedly reported on its wonderful results and indeed over 628 homeless adults have been placed in rooms. And we rejoice as members of religious witness in that fact as we have been advocating for housing with supportive services for the last eleven years. Sadly, however, the way Care Not Cash has been implemented has resulted in the suffering of many other homeless people- by both the 1000 people targeted by Care Not Cash as well as the over 13,000 San Franciscans not targeted by Care Not Cash - a study released in November conducted by homeless people confirmed what we have been told.

She concluded with a grace that only a religious leader could muster, "Let us be clear we are not here to question the commitment of Mayor Newsom and his administration to, and I quote, 'end homelessness as we know it' but we Leaders, friends and members of religious witness are committed to listening to the voices of our poor and homeless brothers and sisters to stand compassionately with them in their suffering and to join them in their struggle for justice."

"We think its wrong for a shelter to be considered "housing" which is how it is worded in the CNC legislation," Shelly Roder from St Boniface Shelter was one of the first advocates to address the gathering, "to consider a mat or cot cramped in with a lot of other people which often ends up being a mat on the floor, housing, is not right- and then making a shelter mat part of a (welfare) benefit package displaces many of the homeless who don't receive city funds (i.e., Welfare/ General Assistance/GA ) cause the beds are reserved for people on GA"

"I just wanted to start by thanking Mark Leno cause Food stamps were restored to felons who were convicted for drug offenses thanks to his tireless efforts" Next we heard from Bill Hart, the formerly houseless, executive director of General Assistance Advocacy Project /GAAP

He continued,"Before Care Not Cash there were 2,497 homeless people receiving welfare benefits-its now down to 852 - but where did the 1090 people go?- most of them dropped off the program cause its too hard to do all the hoops just to get $29.00 every two weeks, including a new rigorous form of job search and they don't even give you a bus pass, so people just said forget it I can’t to do all that"

"We are starting this new year tragically for poor and homeless people. One of the saddest examples of this is when I meet previously homeless people who are now incarcerated telling me that they are better off in prison (where they are now) in San Quentin- they only thing they lost was their freedom but that was better than how they felt on the streets of San Francisco under care not cash living on $59 a month." With tears of horror in my eyes at Bill’s last comment, I wondered if the "paupers prisons" my poor Irish Grandmother used to tell me about could be far behind. But of course who needs them, they are already here…

"Hi, I am Ken Sanders, I am 55 years old and I am a diabetic residing at Hospitality House - I have lived in SF all of my life- only homeless for the last four years - homelessness is a hard job-and cause of Care Not Cash, its even harder" The most important part of the day, the testimonies of folk struggling with this CNC mess, was launched with the tragic voices of African Descendent, Latino and White folks like long-term SF resident, Mr. Sanders and the next speaker, the eloquent David Hawkins-Bey

"I am from Detroit Michigan, I came to the Bay Area in July of 2004 I came here to work in the hotels and come to find out they were on strike. I eventually started to receive the $29.00 CNC benefit but my whole purpose of being here was to work and it seemed like I was being penalized for working part-time and receiving $200-300 a month which I was going to use to move in to an apartment. Instead my food stamps were cut and I still haven't found any housing, I thought if I proved myself to be a productive citizen that the GA program would work for me. In Michigan there is no general Assistance program, no welfare, no nothing- I came here in the hopes of providing a better life for myself and in the end I know that the only savior is love and to believe in love and the love of God - it is all you can take with you"

We then heard a bi-lingual plea for economic justice from the Lorenzo Cruz, a homeless, immigrant day laborer, "The life for day laborers is very hard- in the past, day laborers like me could stay in shelters for a place to sleep but now because of Care not Cash the shelters are no longer a place to sleep for us- and with little work immigrant workers have no money to rent a room- why is this city making the lives of poor people so difficult?"

The day was filled with the poverty scholarship of many more homeless folks trying to express the unbelievably difficult position of poor people living under this corporate poverty pimpin program called Care not Cash sponsored by the city government including one man who spoke of spending all night just to get one bed only to be told at 11:00pm, that his struggle was futile as there was in fact, no room at the Inn.

The powerful and tragic day closed with a Dance of compassion, response "to the testimonies" by Reverend Jane Schlager and Reverend Nobu Hanaoka and closing hymn called The Lord hears the Cry of the Poor……

Tags

You might be my color but you aren't my kind

09/24/2021 - 11:44 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

by Tony Robles/PNN

My Uncle Anthony has this expression that goes, “You might be my color but you ain’t my kind”. He is a street minister who says he’s workin’ for the lord. “The pay might be low but the benefits are out of this world” he says.

You might be my color but…

Working as a security guard, I’ve worked with many people of color. Each has their own personality, their own story, their own trip. I’ve met folks who act like cops and others who have dreamed, or have let their dream slip away. I have met people who have shared their last bit of food with me and those who have shared nothing.

I work at an apartment complex with several other guards. We handle noise complaints; make sure no one’s drinking alcohol in the pool etc.

Surrounding the apartment complex are clusters of trees. Some trees stand straight while others stand at an angle, having withstood the wind and time. At night the moon can be seen peeking through the trees. I look up as the moon announces itself as it did to my elders and ancestors an ocean away in a place whose songs and poetry travel though my veins, nourishing my spirit. In that moment my uniform disappears, I am brown, a man whose bloodline knows only resistance and love and poetry.

Then, a fellow guard approaches me, shows me a slingshot he bought. He is brown like me. He hands me the slingshot and I ask him what he uses it for. “I use it to shoot those birds” he says, “Those black ones”. I ask him if he’s referring to ravens and he answers in the affirmative.

I hand the slingshot back. I look at the moon and the trees that bend. Who would shoot such beautiful birds, those carriers of messages of the ancestors, I ask myself. I hear my uncle’s voice:

You might be my color but…

Tags

Dawn Denison (Dine')

09/24/2021 - 11:45 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

by Boys and Girls Club of the Southern Ute Indian Tribe

Dawn Deniison

age 18


Slam Bio

Black

Blue

Non-tastable

Disgusted

A Locked up snake who cant get

Out of the system

My community is an unknowned

I live in Ignacio

I live in Ignacio

And I have 6 brothers and im the only girl

I struggle with my past and what happened to me

Tags

THE US GOVERNMENT CAUSED ME TO BECOME HOMELESS Pt 3

09/24/2021 - 11:44 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

Pt 3 in a series

by Judith M. Hansel

Parts one and two of this series explained how the US government cheated me out of $24,500 when I paid cash for a house that had been in a USDA homeownership program. This program is authorized by Title 7 USCS C.F.R. 1955.116. I learned, after purchasing the house, that the required repairs had not been made. The house was not in “decent, safe, and sanitary” condition as required by the regulation.

My first response consisted of writing letters to the local, regional, and federal USDA offices. Every reply to my letters denied wrongdoing. Senator Kohl suggested that I obtain a low-cost government loan to repair the house.

To protect my investment, I obtained three mortgages over an eighteen-month period that totaled $23,000. I decided, after a Black Hills Vision Quest, to stop paying the mortgage in order to get the fraud issue before a jury.

The Complaint arrived via Sheriff’s deputy in December. The Case Number is 91CV189 stamped as received by the Clerk of the Court in Waushara County Circuit Court located in Wautoma, Wisconsin. I Answered the Complaint stating the issue of fraud and filed third-party complaints against the USDA, my attorney, my divorce attorney, the Realtor and Union State Bank.

In January, the bank filed a Motion to Dismiss my Answer. Judge Wolfe agreed
stating that I had “too much extraneous material.” She also dismissed all my third-party Complaints even though the USDA had not filed any papers. Judge Wolfe said that she knew that she had to provide “substantial justice” so she gave me ten days in which to file another Answer.

The Answer that I submitted was the only possible Answer that I could write. To submit another Answer would be to agree with Judge Wolfe’s statement that there was “too much extraneous material” in my Answer. So I did not write another Answer to the bank’s Complaint. I did appeal Judge Wolfe’s decisions and orders to the Wisconsin Court of Appeals on the basis that they violated my Constitutional right to a jury trial on anything worth over $20. (Seventh Amendment).

Before the Court of Appeals reached a decision, the bank filed a Motion for Summary Judgment. That Motion was granted; the decision stated that the Judge had “tried” the legal issues. Of course, this was a lie and I appealed Judge Wolfe’s actions to the Wisconsin Court of Appeals.

In July, the Sheriff held a public sale of the property and sold it to Union State Bank. I had no intention of cooperating with the Sheriff when the bank took possession, so in September I held a “Going to Jail Sale” and advertised the event in the local paper.

I sold all my furniture and all the improvements I had made to the house including: the mailbox and the post it was on, the TV antenna, the in-the-wall air conditioner and the fence. Under Wisconsin law if a contract is signed under fraudulent conditions, the contract is null and void. Basically, I had no legal right to improve the property just as the bank had no legal right to issue mortgages to me.

On October 1, the Court issued a Writ of Assistance to the Sheriff that expired on October 9. On October 9, the Sheriff arrested me and transported me to jail using that expired Writ. I was jailed for six hours and released on my own recognizance. (Case 92CM114). I filed a Motion to Dismiss based on the fact that no one had read my rights to me. In response, the DA dismissed the charges against me without prejudice, which meant that he could re-charge me anytime that he wanted.

The Wisconsin Court of Appeals in Madison, Case #92-0522 upheld all the Waushara Circuit Court’s decisions. I then appealed to the Wisconsin Supreme Court under the same Case Number.

I was waiting for a decision from that Court when I read that, in Wisconsin, a person may not be removed from a property in dispute until all legal remedies had been exhausted. So why wasn’t I living in the house?

I needed to get these issues before a jury and thought that the easiest way to do it would be to get myself arrested. So I went to the DA and an official of the bank and told them that I would be on the property that afternoon. No one came to arrest me, so I went back to the DA and asked him why I wasn’t arrested.

“We won’t arrest you for trespassing,” he told me.

What could I think up that would get me arrested, but that wouldn’t send me off to prison for life? I bought black paint and a paintbrush and wrote slogans on the house that did not flatter the USDA and Union State Bank. The next time I was in Wautoma, I was arrested outside a grocery store. I was, however, allowed to drive my car to the jail parking lot. I was charged with a felony, damage to private property, Case Number 93CF007. While in jail over the weekend, my gun was confiscated from my car, violating the Second Amendment to the US Constitution. In Wisconsin, guns may not be confiscated until a person is convicted of a felony.

In March, the Wisconsin Supreme Court’s decision upheld the Wisconsin Court of Appeals and the Waushara Circuit Court’s decisions. I filed a request for a Writ of Cetiorari with the US Supreme Court, Case Number 92-8419.

In April, I attempted to get the prosecution of me for the house-painting crime transferred to the US District Court-Eastern Division in Milwaukee. Judge Goodstein denied my request and labeled his decision a civil case when, in fact, it was a criminal case. (Case Number 93-C-34l).

On May 19 I was scheduled for a jury trial. Finally! Judge Karch arrived and interrogated me for over an hour on points of the law. He said that he was going to dismiss the jury since I was not ready for trial. The truth probably was that he thought I might win!

He ordered me to leave the Courtroom and wait in the hall. Outraged that I had been denied a jury trial AGAIN, I left the building. The next day I was arrested and jailed. This time they did not tell me the charge or give me copies of the Warrant. In the afternoon at my arraignment, the Judge set a cash bail of $2,000. I refused to raise it. The Judge then ordered me to sit in jail until I raised the money. I told him I would stop eating.

On May 25, the Court held a hearing. The Judge offered to set the bail at a $2000 signature bond if I would see a private attorney while I was in jail. I agreed. The Judge also ordered a Mental Competency Evaluation to be done by the Director of the Winnebago Mental Institution on June 22 in Oshkosh. The next day, Patrick Seubert, an attorney in private practice in Neenah, Wi., visited me. When I told him I wanted him to hire a psychiatrist for a second competency evaluation, he told me he didn’t know how to do that. And, he added, he would become Guardian of my affairs after the Evaluation.

On June 9, I received the denial of a Writ of Certiorari from the US Supreme Court.

My legal remedies were exhausted and I knew that the outcome of the Mental Competency Evaluation was already decided, so what could I do?

I went to Canada.

Tags

80 Billion for the War while people are evicted from Next Door (Shelter)

09/24/2021 - 11:44 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

San Francisco Department of Human Services implements Proposition N(ewsom) and begins eviction of Next Door Shelter residents

by Dee/PoorNewsNetwork

The San Francisco Department of Human Services (DHS) began implementation of SF Board Supervisor Newsom’s draconian Proposition N (Care Not Cash) even before the July 1, 2003 implementation date by serving eviction notices on people who are in long-term case managed programs like the SF shelter Next Door. (The rationale for this is that under Prop N, shelter beds are supposed to be prioritized for folks on SF’s CAAP program –welfare- and therefore not available for anyone on SSI, or the working poor - see Racial and Economic Cleansing #101
for more info on this issue)

While this economic genocide is waged on poor San Francisco residents, so-called liberal democrats like Nancy Pelosi who say the following; “We give unequivocal support and appreciation of the Nation to the president as Commander in Chief for his firm leadership and decisive action in the conduct of military operations in Iraq as part of the on-going Global War on Terrorism” and support the Bush administration budget which spends 80 billion to support the war on Iraq, Homeland Security and Airline Bailouts.

More money for the war means less money for the states and cities – social programs to support housing and health education programs, etc. Please join POWER, POOR Magazine, The Coalition on Homelessness and other poverty rights activists and poor folk in fighting this racist and classist proposition, see below for info on an upcoming action....

UNITE TO FIGHT AGAINST SHELTER EVICTIONS

Say No to Expulsions and Exclusions in the San Francisco Shelters

The Department of Human Services in San Francisco has hatched a plan
to hijak the shelter system as part of their plan to set up Prop N
(the cuts to assistance for the homeless initiative). They plan to
force homeless county assistance recipients into the shelter and
expel the non-assistance recipients who are immigrants, seniors,
workers, and people with mental illnesses or other disabilities. All
of this just to turn a profit. Come stand with POWER to say No
Expulsions, and No Exclusions! We Demand Shelter for All!

March, Rally, and Press Conference


Thursday April 17th, @ 4 PM,

Meet at the office of the Coalition on Homelessness

468 Turk St. @ Larkin

When Newsom and the tourism industry poured thousands of dollars into
their lie campaign for Prop N, they were full of promises. Sure our
checks were gonna be cut, but in the place of our wages we were going
to housing, food, and services. Now that July is just 2 months away,
the truth is coming out that Prop N is nothing more that $59 and a
shelter bed. Last week, Next Door (the city's "care facility") made
all of their residents sign eviction notices stating that no one
could remain in the shelter after June 30th. (notice then revoked
one week later) Why? Because DHS's big care plan is to force all
homeless CAAP recipients into the city's over-crowded shelter system
and charge them $300 rent a month, while forcing all immigrants,
disabled people, and working poor folks out into the streets. That's
not care, that's discrimination. Trent Rhorer even said that they
hope the new system will be so worthless and difficult that they
expect over 80% of to just quit the program and fight for own
survival on the streets with no assistance at all. That's bullshit!
Are we going to continue to let these politicians make their wealth
off our poverty? Hell no! Now is the time to fight back!

--

People Organized to Win Employment Rights (POWER)

32 - 7th Street

San Francisco CA 94103


415.864.8372 - phone

415.864.8373 - fax

Tags

Boricua

09/24/2021 - 11:44 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
root
Original Body

by Felicita Pedroza


You can tell I'm Boricua by my long, curly, dark hair

When you look into my eyes you see culture in my stare

My tongue taste like adobo my mouth like rice and beans

I am the Taino goddess you have never seen

My hips sway with the Salsa my heart beats with the drum

I'll have you drunk off my love, like dark Bacardi rum


Touch the arch of my back and feel my ancestors load

My kisses are dynamite, to make you explode

The dimple on my cheek is a pool of delight

Touch my feminine arms, feel my culture’s might

My eyes, like the stars that lead the Tianos to shore

My powerful touch any sickness can cure

Taste my thighs; you'll taste my culture’s glory

Grip my palm to read the Tiano story

My steps are so great it cannot be measured

Dig into my Boricua soul, you'll find buried treasure

You'll find abundance in my breech

But no decrepitude in my reach

My tongue utters efficacious words

So meaningful, so smooth just like my curves

You can tell I'm Boricua by the beauty in each strand of hair

Look into my eyes; find the culture in my stare.

Tags