by KEN MOSHESH

‘“HEY LOOK AT THIS!” OUTFLYS THE FIRST SALVO FROM THE HERE-TO-FORE INVISIBLE NEIGHBOR OCCUPYING THE SEAT DIRECTLY BEHIND ME AS OUR SMOOTH SONOROUS FLYING LIMO SIGNALS THE LINGERING DESCENT TOWARDS THE WAITING STATION BELOW.

CAVALCADING HORIZONTALLY BY SMILE-STAINED PORT -OVALS, STREAM DAZZLING ARRAYS OF VERTICAL ILLUMINATED SNOW FLOWS EERILY TOPPING CHOCOLATED PRECIPITATIONS, DELICIOUSLY INTERSPERSED WITH ASCENDING MARSHMELLOWNG CLOUDS ALL WHIPPED TO PERFECTION AMIDST JETTISONING SOUNDS UNCURTAINING MUTED BRIGHTS AND TWINKLING LIGHTS DIMMING THROUGH THE NIGHTTIME DIN... WINKING BACK...MERRY CHRISTMAS!

THUS I BEGIN MY TRIP BACK EAST VIA AMERICA WEST AIRLINES
HOWEVER, THE RETURN TRIP WAS ANYTHING BUT TASTEFUL.....

FIRST OFF, I WAS ALMOST STRANDED IN AN AIRPORT (3000 MILES AWAY FROM HOME) WHEN AN AIRLINE TICKET COUNTER AGENT TOLD ME I COULDN’T BOARD THE PLANE BECAUSE A RESERVATION PERSON’S CONFIRMED CHANGE COULD NOT BE DONE AT THIS AIRPORT.

I HAD TO CALL RELATIVES WHO HAD JUST LEFT THE AIRPORT TO TAKE ME BACK TO A NEIGHBORING AIRPORT WHERE THE CHANGED DEPARTURE DATE COULD BE AFFECTED.

MY FAMILY AND I CHALKED IT ALL UP TO HOLIDAY VOLUME ETC., AND THE SEASONS SPIRITS STILL RULED THE DAY.

AT THE NEW AIRPORT, BALTIMORE-WASHINGTON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT (BWI), MY FIRST SCHEDULED FLIGHT OUT (DEC 25) WAS DELAYED, THEN INTERRUPTED BY ANOTHER SCHEDULED FLIGHT, DELAYED AGAIN AND FINALLY CANCELLED LATE INTO THE EVENING.

ACCORDINGLY, AS IS CUSTOMARY THE AIRLINES HOUSED US IN A LOCAL MOTEL OVERNIGHT, TO BEGIN DEPARTURE PROCEDURES AGAIN THE NEXT DAY.

THE NEXT DAY I WAS GIVEN RESERVATIONS ON A ONE O’CLOCK FLIGHT IN THE CABIN SECTION AND A STANDBY POSITION IN FIRST CLASS, FOR WHICH I WAS TICKETED.

WHEN THIS FLIGHT TURNED OUT TO BE OVERBOOKED, COMPANY PERSONNEL SUGGESTED THAT I VOLUNTEER MY TICKETS ON THIS FLIGHT
IN RETURN FOR A FUTURE TRAVEL VOUCHER CONSIDERATION AND HAVE A BETTER CHANCE AT FLYING FIRST CLASS ON THE FIVE O’CLOCK FLIGHT.

STILL FULL OF THE HOLIDAY WARMTH AND SPIRIT ENGENDERED BY MY VISITS, AND NOTICING THE NUMBER OF FAMILIES TRYING TO GET ALL OF THEIR FAMILY MEMBERS ON THE SAME FLIGHT, IT SOUNDED GOOD TO ME.

UNFORTUNATELY THE FIVE O’CLOCK FLIGHT NOT ONLY HAD NO FIRST-CLASS SEATS, IT WAS ALSO EVENTUALLY CANCELLED.

WE FORM THE USUAL, HOLIDAY, TIME CONSUMING, SINGLE FILE, LONG LINE FOR REBOOKING. FEELINGS GET FRAYED, AND ALTERCATIONS ERUPT. (I HELP COOL DOWN ONE PARTICULARLY POINTED ALTERCATION INVOLVING AN ELDERLY, DISABLED, BLACK MALE, AIRLINE PERSONNEL, AND OTHER WAITING PASSENGERS THAT ULTIMATELY INVOLVES THE LOCAL AUTHORITIES).

AS THE LINE CREEPS UP TO MY PLACE, THE TICKET AGENT WHO IS IN THE PROCESS OF REBOOKING ME IS ORDERED (BY ONE OF THE AGENTS INVOLVED IN THE PREVIOUS POINTED ALTERCATION WITH THE BLACK MALE) TO STOP THE PROCESS AND BEGIN ONBOARDING THE PASSENGERS FOR THE NEXT SCHEDULED FLIGHT TO OUR DESTINATION, WHOSE DEPARTURE TIME HAD ARRIVED DURING OUR DELAY.

MY AGENT APOLOGETICALLY ASSURES ME AS SHE STOPS THE REBOOKING PROCESS THAT IF I STAY RIGHT NEXT TO THE COUNTER (THERE IS ALSO A BLACK FEMALE WITH ME SEEKING TO REBOOK),SHE WILL CONTINUE MY REBOOKING PROCESS AS SOON AS SHE FINISHES ONBOARDING THE NEWLY ARRIVED FLIGHT PASSENGERS.

FINALLY THE NEW PLANE BUSINESS IS COMPLETE, AND WE AGAIN BEGIN MY REBOOKING PROCESS. THE SAME AGENT WHO HALTED PROCEEDINGS BEFORE AGAIN INTERRUPTS WITH; “WE ARE NOW GOING TO FORM TWO LINES FOR REBOOKING”

SHE TELLS US TO FOLLOW HER TO THE OTHER END OF THE COUNTER BEHIND ANOTHER BLACK MALE TO START ANOTHER LINE. PORTIONS OF THE LINE ORIGINALLY BEHIND THE THREE OF US MOVE FORWARD TO WHERE WE WERE JUST ESCORTED FROM, TO BEGIN THE SECOND LINE.

THIS SAME TICKET AGENT REITERATES THAT IN SPITE OF WHAT I WAS JUST TOLD BY MY AGENT IN HER PRESENCE, SHE WILL NOT RESUME REBOOKING ME AND MY FRIEND, BUT WILL NOW SERVICE TWO OTHER LINES.

THE OTHER BLACK MALE WHO IS AT THE HEAD OF OUR NEW LINE (I’M SECOND, AND MY AFRICAN FEMALE FRIEND IS THIRD), WHO WAS THIRD IN THE ORIGINAL LINE, SUGGESTS THAT THE NEW AGENT IN CHARGE SHOULD, AT THE LEAST, TAKE ONE PERSON ALTERNATELY FROM EACH LINE.

TO MAKE A LONG WORSENING STORY SHORT, AFTER BOARDING SOME PASSENGERS WHO ARRIVED FROM PHILADELPHIA ON “OUR” FLIGHT, THE NEW AGENT REBOOKS AND BOARDS AT LEAST THREE CONSECUTIVE PEOPLE FROM THE OTHER LINE (NONE OF WHOM WERE BLACK) SAYING; “WE WILL COME BACK TO BOARD SOME MORE PEOPLE”.

HOWEVER, WHEN THE AIRLINE PERSONNEL RETURN FROM THE PLANE TO OUR BOARDING AREA, THEY REPORT THE PLANE HAS LEFT.

ALL INQUIRING COMMENTS ARE STIFLED BY A CALL FOR ATTENTION BY OUR NEW AGENT WHO ANNOUNCED THAT WE WILL ALL BE HOUSED OVERNIGHT AGAIN IN THE LOCAL MOTEL AND A SPECIAL FERRY PLANE WILL BE CREATED (SINCE ALL OTHER FLIGHTS WERE FULL) AND MADE READY FOR US AT 3PM THE NEXT DAY. WE WERE THEN TOLD TO MAKE RESERVATIONS FOR THE 3 O’CLOCK FLIGHT “AROUND” EIGHT IN THE MORNING.

SO BACK TO THE LOCAL MOTEL MANY OF US GO. OTHERS ARRIVE LATER. THE THOUGHT OF MY COAST TO COAST DEPARTURE (WHICH BEGAN ON THE 25TH OF DECEMBER) PUT ME TO SLEEP QUICKLY THAT NIGHT, AND AWAKENED ME WITH A SMILE THE NEXT DAY.

WHEN I CALL TO MAKE RESERVATIONS AROUND 7:30AM AS PREVIOUSLY INSTRUCTED ON THE MORNING OF THE 27TH OF DECEMBER, I AM TOLD THAT A FLIGHT LEFT AT 6:30 A.M. THAT MORNING. I AM ALSO TOLD THAT THERE ARE NO OTHER FLIGHTS AVAILABLE FOR A COUPLE OF DAYS... AND, THERE IS NO 3 O’CLOCK FLIGHT!

“ NO WHAT??!!!”

AT THIS POINT I CONTACT THE OPERATIONS DEPARTMENT OF AMERICA WEST. I EXPLAIN MY SITUATION TO A VERY CORDIAL, EFFICIENT ADMINISTRATOR WHO FINDS TWO POSSIBLE FIRST CLASS SEATS DEPARTING LATER IN THE DAY, AND MAKES RESERVATIONS FOR ME ON A 6:40 P.M, FLIGHT OUT OF BWI.

SHE ALSO TELLS ME HER RECORDS SHOW ME AS BEING ON THE 6:30A.M FLIGHT EARLIER THAT MORNING!

WE BOTH REMARKED THAT IF THAT WERE IN FACT THE CASE (A DEPARTURE FROM THE STATED 3 0’CLOCK FLIGHT) IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE AND PROFESSIONAL IF THEY WOULD HAVE INFORMED ALL OF THE OTHER PASSENGERS AND MYSELF SENT TO THEIR DESIGNATED MOTEL WITH THE ERRONEOUS 3 O’CLOCK FERRY PLANE INFORMATION, RATHER THAN DISSEMINATE FALSE DEPARTURE INFORMATION TO INQUIRING RELATIVES.

I THANKED HER FOR HER HELP, AND SHE THANKED ME FOR MY PATIENCE.

WHEN I GOT TO THE TICKET COUNTER AT BWI TO SECURE MY GATE PASS FOR MY NEWLY CREATED RESERVATION, I WENT TO THE FIRST CLASS SECTION OF THE COUNTER AS INSTRUCTED.

AFTER BEING IGNORED BY AGENTS WHO ARE “TOO BUSY” OR “ON BREAKS” ETC. FOR APPROXIMATELY 30 MINUTES, ONE OF THE MANY PERSONS IN MY LINE UTTERS A TEARSE , “DAMN, FIRST CLASS DOESN”T MEAN S***AT THIS AIRLINE”.

HOWEVER, THE AGENT WHO IS SERVICING THE CABIN LINE, NOTICING MY CONTINUING DILEMMAS, COMES OVER FROM HER NON-FIRST CLASS STATION TO GIVE ME MY GATE/BOARDING PASS, AND HER CORDIAL APOLOGY.

AT THE BOARDING GATE (SINCE I’M VERY EARLY), NOW FAMILIAR, PERSONNEL SUGGEST I DISCUSS THE 6:30AM, 3 O’CLOCK SITUATION WITH A SUPERVISOR BACK AT THE TICKET COUNTER.

BACK AT THE TICKET COUNTER A PASSING SUPERVISOR IS FLAGGED DOWN TO SPEAK TO ME BY AN AIRLINES EMPLOYEE. CALMLY I EXPLAIN TO HER OCCURANCES LEADING UP TO MY NEW RESERVATIONS.

SUDDENLY, THE SUPERVISOR SNATCHES THE AIRLINES ISSUED ENVELOPE CONTAINING MY NOW EXTENSIVE TICKETING PAPERS (ALSO CONTAINING A PHONE NUMBER OF PERSONS TO CORRESPOND WITH AT A LATER DATE) THROWS IT AWAY, WHILE SAYING, “ YOU NEED A NEW ONE”.

DURING THIS TIRADE SHE MAKES COMMENTS LIKE, “ WHAT DO YOU WANT US TO DO”. “WE CAN’T TAKE CARE OF EVERY ONE” . SHE TAKES OUT THE “VOLUNTEER” TRAVEL VOUCHER FROM MY TICKETS ISSUED ON THE 25TH, HOLDS IT UP, AND SAYS, “ WE ALREADY GAVE YOU THIS, SO WE’RE NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING ELSE NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENED!”

SHE REITERATES” YOU DIDN’T PAY THE ITINERARY CHANGE FEE!” I AGAIN POINT OUT THE PERSON WHO I PAID IT TOO. SHE THEN CHANGES TO,” YOU MADE THE 6:30AM RESERVATION ! “ HER VOICE BECOMING LOUDER WITH EACH PROVOCATIVE FALSE ACCUSATION, AS THOUGH SHE RESENTED (AMONG OTHER THINGS) MY GOING OVER HER HEAD AND SECURING RESERVATIONS AFTER BEING TOLD EARLY THAT MORNING THAT NONE WERE POSSIBLE.

SHE AGAIN TELLS ME I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ON THE 6:30AM FLIGHT IN DIRECT CONTRADICTION TO THE 3PM ”OFFICIAL” INFORMATION I WAS GIVEN THE EVENING BEFORE.

REMEMBERING THE INSTIGATIONS, QUICKNESS, AND DURATION OF THE INVOLVEMENT OF THE LOCAL AUTHORITIES IN THE ALTERCATION INVOLVING THE BLACK MALE ON THE EVENING OF THE 26TH, I RESPONDED TO HER CONTINUOUS ATTEMPTS TO GOAD ME INTO AN ARGUMENT THAT COULD RESEMBLE THAT SITUATION AND POSSIBLY CAUSE ME TO MISS MY NEW FLIGHT BY SUGGESTING CALMLY, “ THAT SHE CHECK HER RECORDS.”

WALKING BACK TO THE WELCOMED SANITY OF MY BOARDING GATE, I SMILED WRYLY AT THE ANCIENT RACIAL/CLASS NIGHTMARE THAT I WAS DETERMINED NOT TO LET MAR THE BEAUTY OF THE HOLIDAY VISIT, MY PERCEPTION OF THE PROGRESS MADE IN RACE/CLASS RELATIONS AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS NEW MILLENIUM, AS WELL AS THE OVERALL CORDIAL PROFESSIONALISM OF THIS AIRLINES.

LATER AS WE ARE PREPARING TO DEPART ON THE 6:40PM FLIGHT THE SAME SUPERVISOR ASKS FOR “VOLUNTEERS” WILLING TO GIVE UP THEIR SEATS FOR “FUTURE TRAVEL CONSIDERATIONS.”
AS HER VOLUNTEER PROCURING SMILE PAUSES AT MY EXPERIENCED EYES FOR THE SECOND TIME, THE DAY’S RECENT EVENTS LEAVE ME WHISTLING DIXIE TO MYSELF AT EVEN THE THOUGHT OF “VOLUNTEERING” TO GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN.

I DIDN’T KNOW I WASN’T SUPPOSE TO GO FIRST CLASS!

by JJ Colagrande/PoorNewsNetwork

It is Feb. 16 2002 and a heavy silence lingers in the air of the auditorium of the SF public library. It is a huge room filled with hundreds of seats and the weight of the silence is heavy because the room is almost empty; however, the silence is not tense, just hollow, as it waits for a life and a voice that would soon consume it.

I sit alone in the scarcly filled meeting room waiting for the conference on race and disability to begin and I start to dream. I dream about being a track and field star. Back in the day I used to run track. In my dream I’m jetting down a track, it is the track that surrounded the football field of my old junior high school in New York, the same track where I used to always lose every race I competed in. I was one of the only white boys in a class dominated by African-Americans and it was hard for me to catch up with some of the track stars at my school cause they were fast. In my dream I’m in a race and I’m running as fast as I can. In my dream I’m fueled with desire, loaded with determination, and I’m challenging every obstacle in my course. I’m leaping every hurdle, jumping as high and far as I can, and I’m about to cross the finish line victorious but I wake up before I win.

The silence of the auditorium is starting to make me uncomfortable. The conference was suppossed to start fifteen minutes ago. I look around and notice Samuel Irving sitting alone in the front row. He is a dark chocalate warrior poet, humble, calm, strong like a bomb. He has multiple scilrosis and is legally blind. He sits alone just as I do.

As an able white man I actually feel self-conscious in a room filled with disabled people of color. I feel different and I don’t like the feeling at all. I know I’m not different but I can’t help feeling that I am. I wonder how I can overcome my self-consciousness as I meditate on the uncomfortable silence in the room.

The conference at the library begins when Leroy Moore, the last minute substitute host of the event, strolls up to the microphone and gives the hollowed ghost of silence a soul. He fills the quiet air with a voice. He announces, "I have stories to tell and I won’t shut up."

Samuel Irving is soon introduced to the microphone and he steps up to recite a couple of poems. From his poem entitled Headway he said something that caused my self consciousness to evaporate like dew when the sun breaks through from the clouds. He recited "my structure is what you don’t see when you look at me."

Word.

Word up, Samuel.

The conference continues and Leroy introduces a wide variety of poets, disabled activists, and advocates of disability rights. I begin to hear these diverse voices, african- american, latino, asian, all within this community, all educated and eloquent, and I wonder why they are not being heard.

I think back to when I was a kid and how frustrated I was when adults would not take me seriously. It was like my teachers or parents did not listen to me. Like they didn’t talk to me. Sure they talked about me or through me or around me but never TO me. I had a voice, just like all those voices that filled the library hall with life, so why exactly wouldn’t anybody listen?

The conference at the public library was designed to help get a serious voice heard. Organized by the Disability Advocates of Minorties Organization, the conference presented the Breaking the Silence and Organize Campaign. The BSOC is a platform for disabled people of color. The main goal of BSOC is to build friendships and leaders through networking. The BSOC also strives to display the culture, artistic talents, and history of disabled people of color while advocating legal rights, services, and bringing to light issues that touch the disabled people community in San Francisco.

The BSOC was born because there is no platform where disabled people of color can come together to express themselves, feel empowered. It is a question of empowerment so that the disabled community can use their own abilities to facilitate change. The BSOC wants to increase public awareness about issues that face them. One such issue is unemployment. Disabled minorities have the highest unemployment rate every year.

I sit comfortably in my chair in the last row of the scarcley filled auditorium, even though I know things are crazy, hard, and just ill sometimes I’m at ease, and I listen.

If you whisper you may not be heard.

If you speak you still may not be heard.

If you yell you will be heard.

But will people listen?

At the end of an ispirational conference, Leroy Moore, when commenting on his desire to get the BSOC’s voice heard, says, "next year we want this auditorium full."

I have no trouble believing him.

by KaPonda

I am the mysterious product of a love supreme, nestled snugly within the creative bowels of femininity. My progressive footprints rest in the womb of humanity, as rhythmical contractions, driven by pants of excitement, prepare me for an uncertain future. A future, in an ideal life, that would open its gates as I am thrust forth from within. But I am wary also, because the grim reaper of prenatal existence, Barbara Harris, has waged a vicious war against impoverished mothers, denying them of their vested privilege of motherhood, and declaring me persona non grata.

Barbara Harris of Anaheim, conceived her campaign against poor, pregnant women in 1977, after having experienced problems with adoption. Traces of crack cocaine were discovered in the systems of her adopted children. She subsequently formed an organization, Children Requiring A Caring Kommunity (C.R.A.C.K.), based on the theory that the sterilization of poor women who use drugs would prevent birth defects in newborn babies. Ms. Harris launched an aggressive ideology, dubbed Project Prevention, which she proposed to offer poor women who use drugs approximately $200.00 to undergo any of a number of birth control procedures.

According to Ms. Harris, Project Prevent would eliminate excessive amounts of annual pregnancies among women who use drugs. She states, also, that her organization would prevent the numerous abortions and abandoned children. Furthermore, Ms. Harris states that Project Prevent would ease the burden of the foster care system. And, of course, her plan would create a decrease in drug-saturated births.

Barbara Harris has mobilized nationwide support for her campaign by making use of popular prejudices. Her destructive propaganda has incited hatred toward poor women in America at an economically critical period for women, as Congress has mandated states to transition them from welfare to employment.

The perfect child has neither been conceived nor born. Therefore, it is mean-spirited and insensitive of Ms. Harris to declare war on infants of a certain group of women because she discovered traces of cocaine in her children's systems. Researchers at the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry have stated in the book Your Child, "The unborn child has the capacity to sense the harm in utero, and that the workings of any baby's mind are, and will remain, inscrutable." It follows that the development of a child is much the same from one child to the next. But the way the child makes his way in life varies according to his education, environment and support structure.

According to a recent survey, nine out of 10 women are loyal and remain closely attached to their partners, as opposed to one out of 10 men who demonstrate that same faithful commitment. This statistic suggest a strong probability that many of the women who forfeit their reproductive virtues for Ms. Harris' quick cash will not only regret it themselves, but its impact will affect their partners to whom they choose to remain loyal.

There have been solutions already provided to address the concerns that Ms. Harris have raised. As Hillary Rodham Clinton noted during her visit to Kampala, Uganda on March 28, 1977, "Women constitute 70 percent of the world's poor. Based on research and first-hand personal observation by many people involved in government and politicsäaround the world, the single most important investment any nation can make...is the education of girls and women."

Organizations such as the Women's Economic Agenda Project (WEAP), Planned Parenthood, and even the Catholic Church have recommended investing dollars into programs that offer healthcare and drug prevention education to economically disadvantaged women. A recent finding by researchers has shown that every dollar spent on the front end of education and drug programs saves seven dollars on the other end. According to the chartbook, Health, United States, 1998, "A healthy pregnancy is directly associated with a women's healthcare education level."

To deny this is absurd. Ms. Harris should consider redirecting her economic focus by offering those same women a $200.00 cash incentive to attend some type of rigorous, intensive workshop over a two-week period. The overwhelming evidence proves that this approach would cause a drastic reduction in annual pregnancies and child abandonment. This is, undoubtedly, a humane and moral solution which would not only eliminate any hint of divisiveness, but also afford a greater number of chronically poor women an opportunity for a structured healthcare and drug treatment education. Thus, future research would show a decrease in infant mortality, an increase in contraceptive use (if needed), and healthier babies being born to healthier women.

Ms. Harris asserts that offering cash to women who use crack cocaine would cause a decrease in drug-saturated births. There is no evidence which suggest that defective births are the exclusive result of cocaine use, alone. According to Doctor Dean Edell, we should not use tests based on drugs a determinant for any social, political, economical, ethical or spiritual decisions because it is not a perfected science. Research has discovered that drug testing varies according to an individual's race. Drugs enter the pigment of ethnic groups, differently. As the cells grow, the drugs are deposited into the pigment. Traces of cocaine may appear in a black person using cocaine, but not in a white person. So, traces of cocaine may appear, let's say, in four black infants adopted at birth by a women from Anaheim, but may not be found in white children who may have been exposed to the same amount.

Birth defects have many causes, some of which have as yet been discovered. If both parents carry the defective sickle-cell gene, the baby would probably inherit the Sickle-Cell Anemia disease. Structural heart defects is the most common type of birth defect, which costs an average of $250,000 to treat. Chromosome abnormalities (including Down Syndrome) occurs with regular frequency, which requires an average of $451,000 to treat. Neural Tube Defects, including Spinal Bifida and Anencephaly, is also a birth defect which needs close scrutiny, which costs $294,000 to treat. In addition, there are many others that need careful scrutiny. Neither Ms. Harris, nor anyone else should arbitrarily single out any one group of women for what amounts to a breach human rights.

The breach had occurred. The cascade of water alerted me that the hour had arrived that would bequeath upon me the mantle of life, and usher me through the portal of reality. It is an event in which everyone involved will remember. Its success will determine who I am and what I can become.....

by Lyn Daniels

I wonder where the poor and the homeless plan to dine today. Seeing as I am currently in that situation myself - I’ll take you on a tour of some of the more popular eating establishments for this Thanksgiving; Chez St. Anthony's, A la Glide Memorial, and finally, Martin ( de Lah') Pouresse. These three selections, are well known on the less than fortunate circuit. I know that the whole idea behind this story is feeding the underprivileged on Thanksgiving so as I said before: I went,witnessed,and ate.

I chose to visit the more upscale Martin (de Lah') Pouresse to start things off. I made thi choice not because of the food, but because I thought it would be more convenient, knowing that the lines at the other eateries would be off the hook.
Or around the corner. So by following my instincts, I hoped time would play on my side.

As things turned out, it did.

There was a woman at the front door handing out tickets with a number that I assumed corresponded with your place in line. This wasn’t the case, because there was no line. I mean there were a lot of people there, but everyone was already seated and enjoying their meal. I stepped a little further in. This other woman came up to me and asked if I would like to be seated. I said yes and she asked for my ticket. I willingly gave her the ticket and she escorted me to the next available seat where I sat down.

All of a sudden, a nice looking young lady came up to me and asked if I wanted a glass of water or cider. I chose the cider. At this point I was feeling very welcomed by the atmosphere and the service being provided.

The they brought on the food. The same young lady brought my meal to me. It was the traditional bird, dressing and gravy with a roll and sweet potatoes along with a serving of cranberry sauce. The part of the meal that stood out for me was the dessert: pumpkin pie. This pie was so good I forgot about all the other pie that was to come later.

Now, I will give a rating to the food and the experience of this first meal. I would have to rate it as very good. Two thighs up. And that bird wasn’t the only one that was stuffed.

By now the line at Chez St. Anthony’s should be somewhat shorter. You have to give consideration to the fact that it is Thanksgiving. Remember that the first meal took a lot out of me or ,should I say, put a lot in to me. Which now makes it a task to take on another meal.

I go back out to wait on the 9 bus which takes all of two to three minutes to arrive, even on a holiday! As I got on the bus, the driver proceeded to drive like his foot was on fire, so he had to step on the gas to put it out. Which helped me to reach my next destination in about 3 to 4 minutes flat.

I proceeded with courage to Chez St Anthony‘s. Now this is what an experienced diner caught between the two eateries is known to do. First, you get in line at St Anthony's and get your ticket to eat. Then you go up to Glide Church, weave and bob your way up to the front, or as near to the front of the line as you can get. It’s not recommended that someone without experience try this maneuver. This is also a way of letting time pass by so that you are right on time to get back to St Anthony’s to enjoy your meal.

The meal at A la Glide was good, especially the apple cider that it seems everyone was serving. Sometimes that’s the common bond that exists with all free meal establishments; there will always be something similar on the menu. The only thing that I hate to say which is so consistant at Glide, is the attitude of the regulars. They are there to monitor the activity of the client’s who eat there. It doesn't matter what the meal is, the time of year, the fesivity, whatever. Their attitudes are always the same: very pushy, very inconsiderate. Really, there is no need to be this way with the poor folk who are just in need of a meal .

Just because the poor are there to service the poor, it should still be done with respect for one another as human beings. It doesn't matter how good the meal is; people should be treated with respect. I give Glide a rating of two drumsticks up with one broken wing.

At this point I needed to be wheeled around in a shopping cart like you see a lot of the homeless here in the city do after a little too much to drink. I finally reach St. Anthonys. My number was going through the door. I easily slip right in line, like us veterans of the game do. I approached the ticket taker. There is a woman; their patron of the cause of goodwill on Thanksgiving. She hands me a "glad to see you" card as a token of welcome. Then I was told to be seated and my meal would be brought to me. So I sat.

And it was. How pleasant. But like Christmas, this only happens once a year. Then comes tommorrow and things are back to normal. Now to get down to the meal. Not Surprisingly, it was the same as all the rest. Turkey with all the trimmings. I wonder if today is a one-menu day? Of course; it's Thankgiving. The meal was very good. The parts of it I could put down. My rating is: "Oh St. Heavens". But by this time all the meals tasted the same.

Overall, I give my Golden Turkey Award or as the poor would have it, The Silver Turkey Award, to Martin Pouresse. It wins on the merits of service, attitude, atmosphere and that outta sight pumpkin pie.

I hope you all enjoyed your holiday; rich or poor. What is more important is even though you may be considered poor, you can be rich in heart. With that I say, good day, but never goodbye .

by Thorton Kimes

Part One

Conspiracy theories and Swine Flu were on our minds at POOR Magazine when the S.F. first popped up on the radar. Still are. The state of hellthcare in Amerikka, folks buying cheaper medicine from Canada (the Pharmaceutical Industrial Complex ranting and raving about not being able to afford to do research and development to save us from doom and gloom if that was allowed), and a whole host of other problems that hurt poor people the most—the truth is that Capitalism is the only conspiracy theory you need.

The word “conspiracy” or “conspire” comes from Latin, a phrase meaning “to breathe together”. Whether or not we are on the same page about Swine Flu or anything else, we’re breathing together all the time, like it or not.

Swine Flu and other nasty surprises we’ve had over the past few decades can be explained only a few ways and all of them mean we’re in trouble. Disease is one of Nature’s best population control weapons, the Black Death did a very good job of that in Europe and the Spanish Flu killed millions in North America and lives in the institutional memory and nightmares of the medical world.

The biggest thing that freaks out the medical folks is diseases lurking in rain forests being destroyed to create more farms, diseases hitchhiking on container ships or sent ‘round the world by the underground trade in exotic animals—even stuff long dormant in the snow and ice of the fast-melting poles, stuff we have no natural defenses against or drugs to use to combat them.

Those are reasonable fears. Other people have fears that are either “conspiracy theories” or reality, and there are historical precedents backing them as real. The U.S. government experiment on Black Americans from 1932 to 1972, the Tuskegee Experiment in Macon, GA, involved 400 men infected with syphilis who were never told they had it. Even after Penicillin was invented the researchers wanted to keep studying those men.

Old-school (and supposedly outlawed) chemical warfare agents like Mustard Gas, used in the Iran-Iraq War of the 1980’s, killed thousands of fighters and left more crippled for whatever remained of their lives. Agent Orange worked better than the post-9/11 Anthrax attacks, destroying plant life, hurting and killing many Vietnamese and doing the same to many American soldiers on the ground.

Israel used White Phosphorus bombs in the late 2008 invasion of Gaza. White Phosphorus burns flesh, to the bone if you can’t remove it, and it burns under water too—which means you can’t wash it off the usual way. My own mother, normally a skeptical person, freaked out about the Anthrax attacks. Three hundred million people in this country and she feared a bio-weapon that ultimately was more pain in the posterior than true lethal threat.

Native Americans suffered forced sterilizations, and they weren’t the only ones. U.S. soldiers were exposed to radiation from nuclear bomb tests, and “Downwinders”, families living near the desert south-west test facilities have been suffering radiation damage and cancers, including Breast Cancer, ever since. Terry Tempest Williams, a Utah-based Mormon naturalist-writer, wrote REFUGE: AN UNNATURAL HISTORY OF FAMILY AND PLACE after watching some of her beloved local natural terrain (the Great Salt Lake) go through some devastating fluctuations—and losing her mother to Downwinder Breast Cancer.

If you haven’t read her book, please do. Gay America may have very good reason to hate the Mormon Church, but Williams is an amazing writer who brings her Mormon upbringing and family, and the tragedy they suffered from a government conspiracy, into very clear focus.

Part 2

Countries like Egypt destroyed pigs, but Mexico, Swine Flu Ground Zero, fell on its sword and cancelled all public activities in the midst of the Cinco de Mayo celebrations, hurting countless small businesspeople and the folks who worked for them. Poor Mexicans heard the same message all Mexicans got about proper use of water and washing hands—and had little or no access to water but plenty of access to Fear.

China quarantined Mexicans traveling there, which gave Mexico’s president, Felipe Calderone, a great excuse to complain about “discrimination” against Mexicans when he was the Discriminator In Chief. Live by the sword, hey—look both ways before falling on it, someone will be all too willing to “help”.

In Amerikkka we either don’t freak out enough or do it too much. Who benefits from the FEAR propaganda? The PhIC at least. A new way for an old disease to mess with you? New profits to be made from drugs already developed for something else? Yum. Yum!

The truth is that Swine Flu hasn’t yet become the deadly killer we’ve been told it is. Regular flu kills 30,000+ Amerikkkans a year and we don’t freak out about that! We barely even know it, the news media whispered about it a little bit and then shut up about it. I’ve noticed the whispers in this second round of FEARmongering, but the whispered truth just gets lost in the hard sell of we-must-all-be-vaccinated-or-we’re-all-gonna-die stuff going around.

At least one spokesperson I heard during Round One said something about not knowing “everything” about Swine Flu. You get caught with your pants down, fact-finding is job one, but what exactly do we need to know?

The October 23rd, 2009 ABC national news’ medical expert indirectly concluded that Swine Flu may have made Flu season a 24/7 365 days-a-year thing in Amerikkka and possibly elsewhere. Until the behavior of the Medical Industrial Complex, and/or the virus, changes again, we probably must adjust to this new reality.

Acting rationally about it is tough when the Fearmongers are out for blood. Your blood. Your heart and mind. I agree with the coughing/sneezing into an arm instead of cupped hand concept, but now the Etiquette Monger/Fear Monger Complex wants to encourage folks to change fundamentals of behavior like shaking hands!

Shaking hands is a very primal thing, like up-close-and-personal unarmed or close quarters combat with knives and swords; shaking hands is a greeting that proves both hand shakers are unarmed and trustworthy. Wasting a lot of time surfing the net (I’m good at that…) has done a fair amount of damage to face-to-face interpersonal connections people need to forge and reforge often for basic emotional mental health.

The Reagan “Just Say No To Drugs” campgain led some children to turn their parents in to the Police, I wonder what will come of a campaign to kill hand shaking if we truly are entering the era of 24/7 365 days a year Flu, etc.

Part 3

Simon Sez: kids get sick, keep ‘em at home, but keep the schools open. School districts acted and looked like fools during Round One, and high school students in Mill Valley (Marin County), CA, made them look dumberer by publically stating and acting on their intent to hang out together during their unexpected school break. Nothing bad happened.

Schools are being closed again, mostly because 20-25% of students got sick. One student in Northern CA said half her 15-student math class was sick at home. Math has always been my Kryptonite at Algebra and above, but if I had a 1 teacher-to-7-students ratio I’d be dancing the Macarena. If I was a parent I’d be marveling that any school could have a math class with only 15 students in it to start with!

If lack of students equals lack of money from the state or federal government, I’d like to see a special Swine Flu bonus paid to schools that stay open even if many students and some of their teachers are at home. Close the school? Are ya’ll nuts?

Prisons in CA and other places went on lock-down, and still are, the Swine Flu the perfect rationalization for being mean to prisoners. The PIC doesn’t need a new reason for that, AIDS hasn’t locked-down prisons, the PIC doesn’t mind making life and death very frustrating and painful for HIV-positive/AIDS-suffering prisoners. (Poor) Families of prisoners, already burdened by separation and the extreme difficulty of often long distances they must travel for any visits they can manage, are hurt the most.

More isolation. The news media matter-of-factly reports prison overcrowding in CA and the CA governor’s antics over it, and the the Swine Flu decisions, but doesn’t lift a finger to act like that means more than another reason to spread fear or read more words off a teleprompter.

Part 4

There is one valuable thing I’ve learned in the past 20 years: the first 24 hours of a block-buster “breaking news” story is when the confusion and outright lies come fast and thick, hit hard and take hold of our minds like those songs we sometimes can’t get out of our heads for a whole day. Waiting a few days usually leads to greater clarity about what actually happened or is happening.

I’ve mentioned real conspiracies. Many people fear mercury and other additives put into drugs and other necessities of our lives over the past century, substances that the chemical industry, the agricultural industry, and the PhIC suspected or knew could and did contribute to major health problems if they didn’t directly cause them. We need to pay more attention to that, and, supposedly, the government is watching to ensure that the Swine Flu vaccine is safe.

We all know numbers can be made to dance on the head of a pin with the angels. Can we play the music they dance to?

One very interesting thing about recent corporate news media coverage of Swine Flu and the you-may-bave-won-a-flu-shot sweepstakes: one or two skeptical doctors who told their clientele they didn’t need shots got tv face time. Then they vanished. Nothing to see here folks, just go home.

Remember the Peanuts comic strip? Charlie Brown didn’t often get good advice when The Doctor Was In, and he never got to kick the football.

The PhIC has its fingers in many medical pies, including the creation of vaccines for Flu Flu, Swine Flu, et al. The government uses an old, slow method to create vaccine doses, when there is a newer, faster way to do it. The PhIC seems happy to move almost as slowly, allowing the government to promise there will be enough to go around and then –whoops! There isn’t enough. The Fear Mongers strike again.

There is reason for fear. I’m not a parent with a child in the crosshairs. There is reason for pissed-offness too. Who wins when we allow fear to rule us? Haven’t we been through this with 9/11, color coded alerts, fear of a Muslim planet? Red Alert! Red Alert! Klingons!

by Jack Hirschman

FOR EHREN WATADA

This warring government
having lost its people
and having exposed
its lies and its twists

and turns of the knife

in the back of all decency,

has only the guns left
to keep the people in line
in Iraq and here as well,
the guns that make people
afraid because they can
make people dead,

and so when an officer
like Ehren Watada
from one of the two
newest states to be
legalized as part of
the United States

realizes that the war
declared by his country
is an illegal one, and he
refuses to be deployed
to Iraq, and is illegally
court-martialed,

he has opened a crack
in the cage we all are
fearfully imprisoned in,
and the sun of truth
has streamed in radiantly,
and hopefully others

today or tomorrow will
be touched by the same
luminous courage as
Ehren Watada’s, and the
dominum effect lead to the
highest-ranking officer: Peace.

by Press Release

On October 1, 2009, the Southern Ute Indian Tribe assumed management and oversight of the Southern Ute Health Center in Ignacio, which has been operated by the federal Indian Health Service (IHS) and provides health care to Southern Ute tribal members and other local Indians.

The Tribe had initially proposed such a transfer to IHS as early as in 2005 under the Indian Self-Determination Act, or ISDA, a federal law that seeks to “assur[e] maximum … participation [by Indian tribes] in the direction of … Federal services to Indian communities so as to render such services more responsive to the needs and desires of those communities.” The IHS declined the Tribe’s initial proposal, which led to protracted litigation. Recently, the Tribe and the HIS agreed to a contract under the ISDA that allowed the Tribe to begin management of the Southern Ute Health Center while still allowing for the resolution of the issues that led to the litigation.

“The Tribe has been looking forward to this date for a long time and many tribal leaders, including previous Chairmen, members of prior Tribal Councils, and numerous tribal members committed to improving our healthcare have brought us to this point,” said the Tribe’s Chairman, Matthew J. Box. “Unfortunately, it has taken us longer to get here than we had hoped but we are excited that we can now move forward with our plans for providing quality health care to our members and other Indians in the community.” Chairman Box noted that health care was a top priority for the Southern Ute Indian Tribal Council and taking over management of the Health Center was an important accomplishment for meeting that priority. “Although the changes may not be immediately seen,” Box said, “the Tribe’s management of the Health Center will ultimately mean we can be more responsive to the health care needs of our members rather than relying on the IHS.”

by Leroy Moore

It has been said that California and the rest of the nation are in an economic boom and many organizations and systems are feeding off of this boom. With help from legislators and governors, the prison system is getting fat from this booming economy. Many studies say that California operates the largest and most costly prison system in the nation. Activists like Angela Davis have staged protests and campaigns against the prison system and the political arena in California for the overwhelming number of people of color in the prison system. But, the voices of disabled prisoners have been left out or have been muddled.

Since the birth of the Disability Advocates of Minorities Organization (DAMO) in 1998, we have received many letters from disabled inmates begging for public recognition of the deadly environment that they are forced to live in. The latest letter came from the state of one of the candidates for US President, Texas. Closer to home, in February the Bayview newspaper had a letter from a disabled African American inmate. In both cases the inmates talked about the physical abuse they have experienced from guards or other inmates and how they are denied service and medical care. The inmates have looked for help for their cases but have not received any assistance.

Texas is known for its tough criminal system and has led the country in executions of inmates on death row. According to the December 19, 1999 issue of the Boston Globe, the number of prisoners in Texas has grown from 40,000 to 150,000 since Bush took office! He has also overseen the executions of 113 death row inmates, more than any other governor in any state has since the death penalty was reinstated in 1976. Many inmates on death row in Texas are or were inmates with mental illness and with developmental disabilities. To date, Bush has not spoken publicly about the Johnny Paul Penry case. Last Spring Bush voted against a bill that would ban executions of the mentally retarded. All of this is shocking because Bush’s father is remembered in the disabled community as the father of the American Disability Act of 1990.

Texas, like California, has poured money into the prison system. According to the Houston Chronicle of March 25, 2000 five years ago the Texas prison system completed the largest construction program in the nation’s history, but now top prison officials say they need as much as $3 billion more to fix up aging units. While the prison systems nationwide are enjoying the booming economy, there has been progressive work on the status of disabled prisoners. In the Houston Chronicle of February 16, 2000 the Senate Criminal Justice Committee heard testimony as they began to study the impact of mentally ill inmates on Texas prisoners and jails.

In 1998 Senator Paul Weelston (D), of Minnesota toured the privately run prisons and found conditions deplorable. Since receiving many allegations of the abuse of mentally disabled youth, Senator Weelston has introduced legislation designed to make sure youngsters with mental disabilities are not improperly locked away, and to end the mistreatment of those already behind bars. Weelston wants to set aside $2.5 billion over five years to help better train jail staff about mental illness, screen out youngsters with mental disorders before they are sent to prison, and build new facilities to house non-violent offenders with mental disabilities. Still, their voices have not reached mainstream mass media.

Although California prisons have been forced by a class action suit, Armstrong Vs. Pete Wilson in 1994, to follow the Americans With Disabilities Act (ADA), and the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, not discriminate against prisoners, DAMO’s prison files have been overflowing with stories of physical brutality. A 1996 survey by California state prison officials showed that at least 1,375 of the state’s 142,000 inmates are blind or deaf, use wheelchairs or need canes or other devices to walk. If we include prisoners with mental disabilities, HIV, mental illness and cancer, the number is overwhelming. The letter that appeared in the Bayview newspaper was from a disabled African American between and he described his reality in a local jail where he has been beaten and overmedicated. He says that he speaks for disabled people everywhere because, "We’re getting stepped on and not represented in a proper manner when we have legal issues that need to be addressed." This statement was echoed in the San Francisco Chronicle of March 14, 2000 by Senator Burton who blocked a Governor Davis appointee to the State Parole Board because the Board violated the ADA. According to Burton and Judge Claudia of Oakland, there have been some prisoners who used wheelchairs who have had to crawl up stairs to get to their hearings.

While California’s prisons are still trying to get in compliance with the ADA, Rogelio, a blind paraplegic man described the physical brutality he lives under the Texas Department of Criminal Justice. In his letter to DAMO, he details his experience as a disabled inmate. Rogelio was punched out of his wheelchair by a guard because he told the guard not to read his legal letters. When Rogelio was on the floor, two officers continued to kick and hit him causing fractures on his left elbow and on his right wrist. Because of these injuries Rogelio could not get back into his wheelchair. The officers did help offenders with mental disabilities. And in California a few disability organizations have been putting the heat on the correction system with help from Senator Burton.

In California, Jean Stewart, Founder of Disabled Prisoners Justice Fund and author has received letters from disabled prisoners for years and is in the process of writing a book on disabled prisoners. She has visited disabled prisoners and helped them get the service and legal representation they need. Disabled Prisoners Justice Fund is a legal defense fund established to protect the rights and meet the legal needs of prisoners with disabilities.

Disabled prisoners are only now getting visibility because of people and grass roots organizations like Jean Stewart and her Disabled Prisoners Justice Fund, Senator Burton, Senator Weelston, and Disability Advocates of Minorities Organization. Despite these voices though, cases of physical abuse and lack of access to prison programs and medical care are still common in a system that is booming under this current economy.

The rights of disabled prisoners is an unpopular issue in the political arena, prison systems, and the traditional disabled organizations but we can’t turn our heads; because if we don’t act now you or I could be caught in the booming prison system.

By Leroy F. Moore
Founder of Disability Advocates of Minorities Organization (DAMO)

by Richalda Thomas and Tiny/PoorNewsNetwork

it started quietly - just a few of us POOR folk gathered in the Tenderloin in front of the San Christina Hotel- a single room occupancy(SRO) hotel in the heart of the Tenderloin District of San Francisco - it is the residence of one of our very low-income staff writers - I chuckled at the odd juxtapose of people with signs protesting the War cheerily walking towards the march through our "bad" neighborhood ..

After a few minutes of handmade sign choosing - i settled on "POOR Magazine says no to all wars against poor people of color locally and globally". Our small group consisting of Joseph Bolden, Christina Heatherton, TJ Johnston and myself began the walk to the Embarcadero to join the hundreds of thousands in San Francisco who like folks in London, New York, San Diego, Australia and hundreds of other cities across the globe, were protesting this new act of criminal oppression being proposed by the rich white folk in office...a war in Iraq

"I am a man who is interested and involved in many things.." one of our most inspiring encounters occurred quite early in the morning at the intersection of 5th and Market as we had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Ben Dunn - dressed in a regal brown world war II army uniform - carrying a sign that said; Take a stand against war and racism" He was one of several WW2 vets protesting this unjust war who were present at the march. After a few more encouraging words with Mr. dunn off we went....

"Who wants war.. Not in our Name!!!.... What Schools are present here today?" Our contingent was halted at 1st and Market as we met up with approximately 700 multi-racial, multi-cultural students from San Francisco State, City College of SF, UC Berkeley, UCSF, USF and many more .. sharing ..... resisting and marching...against a war with no legal or ethical basis....

One of POOR Magazine's youth in the Media interns who attends City College on a parttime basis when she can juggle child care for 12 month old baby and win the ongoing battle with Calworks (welfare) which continues to question her desire to even pursue a formal education was in this contingent..." This is all such bull-shit" what are we fighting for? " Richalda Thomas started breaking down the truth to any of us who were listening, "while they keep us busy fighting against this war mess.. they are cutting our school budget at schools across the nation like CCSF, and slashing all the social service budgets.." I nodded in agreement as she railed off the crimes against poor people and people of color that are happening under Bush that we can't even begin to address because he is constantly coming up with more frigtening things to fight everyday... Her words reminded me of Dee's (co-editor of POOR) opinion,
"The real war is already happening, everyday under this homeland security act they have stripped our civil and constituional rights down to nothing and now have armed men with M16 rifles on the white house steps 24/7 ... this is a coup .. that's what this is, a coup of this nation..."

"Bush voodoo dolls.....Bush voodoo dolls" - at the embacadero we encountered several clever handmade protest signs including one of my favorites: "Stop Madcowboy disease" and "a village in Texas has lost its idiot".... as well as a very real articulation of death to women and children that will happen if there is war in Iraq- several women dressed in chadors holding bloody dolls....moaning and crying.... I was not able to pass their performance without feeling a shudder of terror....

"Black Reparations yes... Racist Wars No..". a coalition of several African Descendent youth and adults who were working on HR40 the bill for black Reparations were in the march with a beautiful banner that spanned the width of the street

"We are here for the people - we are working for justice..." an ILWU labor contingent of several hundred multi-racial men and women dressed in black marched as an enclave within the march in cadence to "An injury to one is an Injury to All"

The day included many beautiful and inspiring speeches, one from Jeremy Corbin a parliament member in England who is fighting the sell-out Prime Minister of England Tony Blair (otherwise known as George Bush's right-hand man), "this march of all these amazing people - we need to come together for other than just the war - we all need to come together- because together we can fight for justice for poor people, for education for children, for the rights of all people...."

"We can Stop this war..." Danny Glover who spoke at the rally - spoke to marchers at the New York and San FRancisco march "Together we can stop this war..." As I looked upon the crowd of 300,000 people all dedicated to truth, all not believing the lies, nor accepting the illogic of this corporate takeover of our government.. for a moment...I believed him ...

by Bruce Allison and Thornton Kimes

Sitting many hours, listening to the Planning Commission, is not an easy thing to do. Bruce did it for approximately 12 hours October 15th, 2009, I lasted less than 3. The CPMC hospital proposal for the Van Ness corridor, finally came up at 8p.m. after 4 hours spent on a project threatening Open Space on De Haro Street.

You can always tell when the Sutter Corporation people are around by the red folders and their unrelenting ability to be “on-message”.

This corporation has told many lies, done many interesting things (like sucking $1 million out of Marin General Hospital for who-knows-what), including their current hard and soft sell of transforming what used to be the Jack Tar Hotel—now the Cathedral Hill Hotel, mere blocks from Thornton Kimes’ SRO hotel—into a giant boutique for-rich-folks-only hospital, while draining the life, money, bricks and mortar from their other hospitals which have served poor people for, apparently, too many years.

This poverty scholar was not surprised (but the other writer of this article WAS…) to know that CPMC/Sutter doesn’t only want the Cathedral Hill Hotel, it wants space on the other side of the Van Ness and Geary/Post block for this Frankenstein’s Monster project lurching into our collective rear-view mirror. Many small business people, including the Vietnamese and other South-east Asian women who run the 24/7 doughnut shop that Tiny and Mama Dee loved and still loves, will see their dreams shattered and lose the source of their income. San Francisco will lose the tax money they have been paying into city coffers for years, for however long it takes to build this monster—if it is actually built.

They destroyed villages to "save them" in Vietnam. Now they want to do damage to the tax base of San Francisco to put in a hospital we don’t need (I almost quoted “They paved paradise and put up a parking lot”, not exactly the definition of “automatic writing” but close enough). This other poverty scholar article writer wonders if the doughnut shop women, who I have also come to appreciate (and took their doughnuts to watch movies down the street instead of buying vastly more expensive corporate movie theater candy…), feel a bit of “burn the village…” déjà vu?

Ms. Nancy, one of the workers at the doughnut shop, spoke at the hearing, using this poverty scholar’s time for an extra two minutes. She said that as a person who speaks limited English CPMC/Sutter’s project will make it incredibly difficult for her to find another job.

The people selling the hospital project visited the doughnut shop and told Ms. Nancy and others they didn’t need to bother showing up for any hearings, it was a “done deal”. The truth is they don’t even have permits to tear anything down or build anything new up, haven’t done an EIS (Environmental Impact Statement) or any other preliminary study the “Usual Suspects” do when they attempt dotting i’s and crossing t’s.

Among other truths here, the other poverty scholar responsible for this article experienced considerable construction of needed and unneeded stuff in the same neighborhood over the past 2 years—an “affordable housing” building at Hyde and Turk, a Community Housing Partners SRO right next door to his SRO--and a building on Van Ness between O’Farrell and Eddy. This is all part of the Eastern Neighborhoods Plan (ENP), the Cathedral Hill Hotel is on the far, well, frontier of it.

One of POOR Magazine’s alternative media allies/friends/partners, the Mission District-oriented El Tecolote monthly newspaper has run many articles about the ENP, so, please, readers of this space, check them and their coverage of it out, keep watching for more here, and, most definitely, we want your bodies sitting in front of the Planning Commission—and your voices talking to them about this and the need for more and better health care for those who really need it in this town: the poor.