Story Archives 2002

by Joe B.

A dripping, wet Friday on Dec. 28, 2001. Oh, to be with trusted lifelong friends, family, or home, snug and warm under covers with that special woman.

Instead of walking Market Streets slick slippery redbrick sidewalks at 8:23 am.

Few people are in on Market, its grey-before nightfall Friday and those that are looking for awnings, building overhangs, restaurants, or using the Bart Station as a bed-rest, nap area, concrete and steel umbrella if like me are walking to work.

I will not prognosticate or guestimate what may happen in 2002 or beyond; technology slowed even before September 11, 2001 so did the economy.

I do know the moment those planes hit the World Trade Twin Towers in New York not only America but whole world changed forever.

Could this have been prevented?

Is this a WAKE UP call?

What were the C.I.A., F.B.I. and other agencies doing?


Who helped betray innocent us on those four doomed flights?

The answers will take decades to discover.

What I do know is the next few years will be of rethinking, rebuilding, careful reexamination of us a Americans in America and what it really means to be An American.

There will be inventions, life saving medical and science technologies, a weird confluence of restarting, dedicating our lives, omens, signs false and true, deaths, births, and a global civilization.

Not only Americans we'll stumble and advance fast than we ever thought possible in large part to remember all the lives lost here and abroad - few if any of these lives lost will be in vain. Peoplekind will continue to thrive, survive, and improve ourselves.

Remember the Dinosaurs died off suddenly, whether it was from a sudden drastic iceage climate changes, one or more huge meteors, or a new virus lifeform, dino's had no immunity to.

Humanity can go as quickly if we do not evolve strategies for our species survival as in asteroid detection/aversion science and technologies, radiation, anti-viral biogene, engineered protection and insusceptibility, we mortals will not self-evolve another thousand to a million years.

I don't know about anyone else but I'm still going to try and be a self employed House Care guy.

Being Honorable, bondable helps as an extra layer of trust.

As a non drug user, drinker, smoker, light vacuume, no laundry-window's guy hoping to improve my life next year... I want to work where I can also write - security guard, Certified Nurse's Aide does not work for me and my office job at POOR is so full there's hardly anytime at all.

Housitting, sitter, or as I call it House Care or House Work Professional.

Growing up in New York with frogs, turtles, dogs, cats, and later in California with iguana's, salamanders, and fish I know how loved and part of the family these pets are and having strangers in they're is nerve racking until you know they are safe, not abused, and cared for.

The pets could hide, show, willful disdain, distrust, and be a pain but if I or anyone is there it is slightly less worrisome when on a business trip or vacation. As you can see my focus is on the House Care Business for next year if a single person, family, or organization chose me as House Care Watcher Professional.

The titles are getting complicated. Now I must get business cards written up, maybe get a land and cell phone.

by Joe B.

On a soggy, gray, dreary feeling Saturday in San Francisco I'm 'workin. [actually keeping my rump warm but since I'm here and not with family or lady friend - [I tend to forget the "Don't You Love Your JOB, When So Many Are Losing Theirs? question.]

Yes and No its a like/dislike 'kinda thing and being at work now is certainly not what I'd like to be doing now.

There's this Kim Murphy of L.A. Times piece that is difficult to download.

While fuming at the PC its bookmarked (saved on-line skipping the www dot stuff [won't someone come up with W3 like W to the 3rd power eliminating two extra key strokes, the dot stroke as automatic?]

"That's dumb joe, who gives a 'flyin fig?"

So, I'm reading the time stuff in Portland Oregon about Homeless People living independent lives in a self-governing camp.

A screaming woman, dogs, rain, arguments breaking out, threats and calls to police, also Quality-Of-Life problems abound in Dignity Village and Mr. Jack Tafari, Chairman of the Board of Director of Dignity Village with help must like some wartime Sergeant-at-arms deflect incoming-outgoing assaults in and out of its tented areas.

L.A.'s Dome Village, Seattle's Tent City, and other American encampments show me that our economic situation is not improving as much as we'd like to think.

Wasn't Oregon and Oregonian's known for surviving the worst winters, summers, droughts, and other calamities that came their way? An independent, nonprofit corporation, [which seems a contradiction] a self-government, Resident's Council projected budget without public funding backup of charitable groups.

Didn't America start out as thirteen colonies, struggle to become independent of its Mother Country Great Britain? It seems the only parallel is Homeless People finally fed up with asking, begging, jumping through nearly impossible hoops of Welforce, Workflop, 'um Welfare and Welfare to Work which is really get-any-low wage work without ladder climbing, economic improving hi-tech retrain-ing, college, university, or higher education in mind.

Could this be glimmer into a future where out-of-work though high or low trained and skilled individuals can forsake the grinding regulations of established governmental bodies for this alternative
workshare-prepare-Co-op 'n share independent communities.

San Francisco and others could learn from Portland's Dignity Village in fact that maybe this could be the answer to the so-called homeless problem - the working and supporting of ourselves and not trying to constantly jump the hoops of cities, states, and or counties that really don't want to help us but just wish we were not seen so visibly.

The generating of cheap solar power, farm/mini machine shops for repair, retooling, and making tools sounds eerily familiar.
There are lots of out of work professionals old, middle age, and young with spare time, ideas, and no where to instruct or practice them.

Wandering from place to place because of city evictions is draining on a person's pride of self I hope they can grow roots, become a thriving entity and show others it can be done and even if Portland, Oregon fails to let this experiment pass or fail on in own merits there are other encampments that may succeed.

I wonder, if Dignity Village succeed will there a collective gasp that it was not suppose to happen? A temporary lease in a remote industrial area. With PC's, scattered infrastructures
[so no bank, grocery stores, job hiring, or "heaven forbid" on-line investment, poster-bookbinding, publishing co, won't get robbed bankrupting the hard fought people's project.] They already have a website, promotional brochure with plans for a permanent village.

Folks revolutions are not always bloody some are quiet, well thought out, this sounds not only revolutionary but evolutionary. Its not the same old wheel but a new improved one that enables its rider to hover, float, fly, in mid air and glide safely to the ground.

Land and plenty of it is needed an people who have already worked, save, then got ripped off by more expensive regulations.

Working hard use to work now working smart is a be a chore too.

The problem was though to be that homeless folk, working poor are drunks, on drugs, of low morals.

That mindset early 17th to 20th centuries stayed frozen but homeless people, and the working poor have changed though most of us still have the same early 20th century mindset.

It seems the ever shrinking middle class, rich, or upwardly mobile want and need poor folks to stay frozen in poverty even if we ourselves on the bottom rungs of society have the answers they do not want to listen because all their paradigms fall apart.

Too Bad, Change is here, its all over the country and its pre-9/11/01.

There always be more pressing things than poor and homeless people so its time for us to help ourselves-we have enough collective experience [another disliked word with odd meanings]
many more encampments, villages, domes, can be set up - there are lots of ghost towns how about take them over too.

I bet there enough trained, qualified, people to build, house, feed, re-teach/train others without government handout, or charities.

Looks like being down and out does not quite have the same meaning anymore.

Now I must look for DV's website.www.dignity village.org
Hope this and Next New Year see Dignity Village prosperous and helping other "Villages" survive and thrive. Bye...

PS Other encampents, spaces, places, get your synaps to 'snappin brain storm, contact each other.

We can be like a hive mind and a collective and yet still be individual in our choices - its just that what works in one area may not work in others, hense diversity is needed too.
But get together folks.

Our cities may not be dying or they are but doing it awfully slow. www. dignity village.org

Let the next revolution in evolution be bottom up not top down we've seen that before, let's do it better.

by PNN staff

"I have the best amma in Hong Kong," he snickered from behind glazed eyes. The imported German beer resting on the shiny bar cost him $8 US and took him 20 minutes to drink. Angela cost him $1 US and it took her three hours to clean his apartment.

Amma is ex-patriot slang for a Filipino person who migrates to Hong Kong and cleans for pennies. This term is used until the employer creates a cute nickname, which comes only after amma proves devotion. The employer then believes s/he is getting the best bargain from the best amma and can gloat over their find at the local pub with a complete stranger.

Amma is also used to refer to a shipping bag, which is made in the Philippines and easy to come by in Hong Kong. It’s cheap, durable, and can be found for sale on every corner. The amma bag comes in several different sizes and I have seen it used to carry everything from dirty laundry to bricks.

He took another sip of his beer and told me the story of how he found Angela, whom else she cleans for, and how much extra she does for him because she is so grateful for his generosity. He had finally secured reliable maid-service in Hong Kong, the small island that houses corporate Asia.

Millions of people are forced to cross international borders every year looking for work. Free trade has left many small businesses obsolete, and corporations continue to move around the globe in search of cheap labor. People are now forced to sell their labor on an international market, which often takes them far from their homelands, pays little, and ensures the success of globalization, the very force behind the vicious cycle tearing down small businesses and raping laborers with dwindling wages. This demographic shift is not ideal for those doing the shifting, and has invited to the otherwise positive political spin on Globalization much-needed skepticism.

In theory, globalization means we are all dependent on each other. What we do (or abstain from doing) may influence the conditions of life (or death) of people in places we will never visit and generations we will never know. Although aware of global effects, most definitions I have read concerning this universal concept exclude the word responsibility.

Angela wears lipstick and a smile everyday. On Sunday she wears her good shoes and visits family and friends. In Hong Kong, Sunday fills the streets with Filipinos playing chess, cards, smoking, laughing, praying and eating. "It’s Sunday," my host explained to me, "They don’t work on Sundays." I later learned most Filipino immigrants do not have homes of their own, and residents let them take to the streets one day a week. I saw a rose-cheeked woman serve an entire meal out of an amma bag. She and her family spread a blanket on the sidewalk in front of a 7 Eleven.

The National Network for Immigrant and Refugee Rights (NNIRR) recently addressed this issue in a documentary called Uprooted: Refugees of the Global Economy. The idea that our corporate globe creates immigration and intensifies inequality left concerned viewers pondering familiar questions in a new light. For instance, global interdependence might mean a Bolivian engineer must vacate his land because free trade policy ruined his country’s economy. He and his wife are now janitors in the US. Or how one can hire an amma at an insulting salary, just slightly more than she makes at home but not enough to make her mobile, and therefor perpetuate her already poverty-stricken global status?

Many countries cannot feed their people due to global trade policies, and global labor wages insure that the people, in return, will not be able to feed their country. Thus, poverty prevails and the streets become home to many more. Considering the idea of interdependence, and listening to our world leaders promote a global economy, it appears that poverty is not just a local problem. As Americans, 5% of the world’s population consuming 75% of the world’s resources, this realization is paramount in understanding how we influence the conditions of life (or death) of people in places we will never visit and generations we will never know. The poverty we have created at home pales in comparison to the poverty we have created abroad.

Marcella suffers from global poverty. Like Angela, the Philippine government encouraged her to work abroad as a domestic laborer in order to pay the international debt accumulated after years of living under a corrupt government. Ironically, this former government, who stripped the Islands of their wealth, has found sweet welcome mats in the US.

When it becomes necessary for people to immigrate to wealthier nations in search of opportunity, they find themselves serving the materialistic culture behind globalization. In the instance of a Filipino immigrating to the US, not only is the culture behind globalization giving him/her a job, but the very Philippine government who raped their economy in the name of free trade is having lunch with the US president. One would be hard-pressed to sell the idea of global economics and free trade to this person.

Marcella lives in New York City and makes $2.20 an hour. She has long dark hair and thick legs; her family lives 15 hours away by plane. Her employer will not pay her minimum wage, leaving her the option to look for another job or go back home. Neither option promises a better standard of living, she remains in his service. Marcella sends half of every paycheck home, and keeps up on the latest additions to Imelda Marcos’s shoe collection.

My host finished his second pint and ordered another. Angela no longer dominated the conversation. He went on to explain, in tedious detail, currency rates and the global need for shipping containers. The world could not survive without the shipping container. Everything that is designed in France is flown to China, where it’s manufactured then taken by train to Hong Kong. From Hong Kong the vessels are loaded onto ships and sent all over the world, where trucks meet them, unload the cargo, and the cycle of capitalism continues, delivering Coca Cola to local 7-11’s.

I listened to his thought-out shipping hypothesis; he breathed life and respect into the large metal boxes, and gladly pays insane amounts of money to purchase whatever comes out of them. His third German beer sweats cold rings onto the once-shiny bar, and the Irish Pub sitting at the dark end of Hong Kong’s Queen Victoria Harbor shut off its lights.

by Lisa Gray-Garcia and Rodrigo Jimenez

Ibaro Ago Juba (Song for Elegua)

Eshu Eshu – his body felt wet – wet and yet covered –wet and cold in a new way – in a dead way – was he awake? …. The orisha Elegua was waking him up.. Eshu Eshu Layiki. he heard the first words, the praise name for Elegua- a road that no one knows how to begin or to end….

As he slept last night 47 year old Carlos’s small awning under the 24th street bridge had given away slowly to the onslaught of rain and he awoke to a sleeping bag which was heavy with moisture, he stepped gingerly out of it – careful to not touch the sides of the nylon- if he moved slowly the inside would stay dry – or at least the inside of most of his clothing layers- He slept at a right angle facing up on a slope against the 280 freeway dirt mound. A stray piece of paper flew past him – he grabbed it quickly and put it in his "trash bag" – noone could understand how much he loved this place. After two years of random doorways, benches, jail, shelters and the bus station, assault robbery and police harassment – this was his place – he was never bothered here- in fact almost noone could see him at all. The ambient whir-swoosh-roar of the traffic above him became a symphony - a peaceful sound.

He slowly put on a second set of "outside" clothes- preserving another clean set for later-after dressing he groped in the dirt for his breakfast- a leftover burger from last night he unfolded the thin paper wrapping-from his remaining whopper- he loved burger king because they were on his recycling route, included a free cup of hot coffee and never asked him to leave if he stayed longer than his burger eating time, as he was almost ready to leave a voice called out, " Hey .. yeah…. you - with the hat- you need to come out of there right now", the voice like a knife sliced through the air. Was it real? How could it be? How could anyone know he was here?

Choncho abe ko lori eyo’ (a pointed knife protruding from Eleguas head)

"are you talking to me senor?" Carlos answered quietly- he was a soft-spoken man who refused to raise his voice for anyone.

" Hey you - yeah I am talking to you don’t try to pretend you don’t hear me.." , the man’s tone was layered with disdain, hate or both, "I know you live in here and I really don’t care but you have get your things and leave"

" Why do I have to leave?"

"Did you hear me - get out of here-pendejo"

"I am only asking for a reason - senor?"

"Ok you want a reason- because we have to clean this whole area under the freeway"

"Ok - I will wait on the sidewalk.."

"oh no you can't do that - we have to steam clean the sidewalk as well.."

"But…. its pouring rain, Senor"

Carlos did as the man said and quietly left - he was only able to take a few things - all the rest of the stuff the man threw triumphantly into his truck - including his wet sleeping bag which Carlos could not carry on his back -

Carlos walked numbly through his usual route - collecting over 300 hundred pounds of cans and cardboard - and transporting the whole load 7 miles across town to the recycling center - he made $34.00.

At 10:00 pm he walked slowly back to his "spot" The Asphalt was shining like glass with rain - the wet night sky was smoke colored - the intermittent rain dripped down his wet clothing into unseen crevasses.. and competed with his streaming tears for space on his face" Please don't be gone..he whispered between gulps - please don't be..

And then he was there- in front of what he knew would be there.. What he could taste and touch and yet did not know for sure until now… Illuminated by the passing flash of headlights - glistening in the rain - was a giant steel fence surrounding his space?

He reached up to touch it " dios Mio - why have you let me down? Elegua - why do you trick me so? - What can you gain by this .. Where will I go? "

He fell into the cement - burying his face on the sidewalk his hands stretched out in front of him- his body shook as he repeated the screams..Where will I go? Dios Mio where will I go?

Eshu Eshu.. Layiki

It started as a light -a random headlight from a passing car on the freeway above that lingered a little longer than the rest and then the light showered Carlos’s body - and as it grew brighter Carlos became warm-the warmth turned into a burning heat and then his hands grew away from his body - sailing into the night sky - climbing on the fence motioning for Carlos to follow…

Carlos stood up, following his hands to the fence letting his body fuse slowly into a new version of his hands- hands lined in pure gold - he watched them rip the fence apart -one tier at a time- effortlessly as though it was made of paper - the fence fell away to the ground- Carlos walked through….

Eshu eshu Layiki.. Eshu.. eshu

The Poverty Hero Project

What is a hero? What does it mean to perform an act of heroism? Or to live your life heroically? In Greek religion a hero was a famous person who after his or her death was worshipped as quasi-divine – noblemen who were valiant fighters. In classic English literature heroes were created as mythical warriors capable of bravery and gallantry. In American literature, Hemingway defined the code hero- as a man who lives correctly following the ideals of honor courage and endurance in a world that is sometimes chaotic, often stressful and always painful-

In our society many people judged by these classical standards have been heroes and heroines- Dr King, Mumia Abu Jamal, Cesar Chavez and Rosa Parks to name a few, enduring and overcoming great odds and achieving great things- but at POOR we have developed a new kind of non-traditional literary hero – the Poverty Hero – the Poverty Hero has also withstood overwhelming obstacles – and achieved great things – but from another lens – in other words – the obstacles might be multiple evictions – homelessness and gentrification- welfare dependency and institutional systems abuse, racial and economic profiling , incarceration and assault –the heroism could be surviving a life lived in poverty -through an existence fraught with misery and suffering- the Poverty Hero could be a mother on welfare who has successfully raised her children – an Abuela in Mexico who borrows the electricity of Sony Corp to power her Tijuana shanty village– a houseless person who creates art – an elder who is fighting an illegal eviction- a homeless child who helps her mother care for her siblings.in other words The heroism of survival itself through THESE great odds.

We have several goals with these presentations, one of which is to furnish all classes of society with a new way of "seeing" and understanding people in poverty – while also addressing and confronting the issues these folks face everyday just to stay alive and as well to empower the poverty hero themselves with a new feeling of pride rather than shame for the resistance of survival, the heroism of survival.

The Poverty Hero Radio and web-based Narrative Project is the culmination of a series of workshops that POOR has been conducting in collaboration with Community Defense Inc, a non-profit legal defense organization, in group homes, schools, community organizations, shelters, jails and in the streets and will culminate with the Poverty Heroes anthology and the web based 2002 series, which will be published later this year. We will be presenting a different poverty hero over the next twelve months on PNN’s radio show aired each month on the last Monday of the month on KPFA’s Morning Show @94.1 FM at 7:30 am–Each one will be a literary narrative replete with imagery, myth and magical realism.. so please tune in !!!

by Leo Stegman/PoorNewsNetwork

A major setback for Mumia Abu-Jamal’s legal defense has occurred. Mumia is an award winning journalist, lifelong activist and well renowned author whose trial has become a symbol and example of racism, political persecution, and class struggle in the United States legal system and prison industrial complex. Federal District Court Judge William Yohn upheld the unjust murder conviction of Mumia. In their 272-page ruling, the court has created a major obstacle for Mumia’s defense team to gain a new trial.

However, the ruling did vacate the death sentence and give the state trial court 180 days to hold another death penalty phase for Mumia’s trial. These rulings stem from the unjust and wrongful conviction of Mumia in the 1981 murder of Philadelphia police officer Daniel Faulkner. If the trial court in Philadelphia fails to hold the re-sentencing hearing within the allotted period, Judge Yohn stated he would impose life sentence without parole.

The ruling states that Philadelphia Trial Court Judge Albert Sabo gave the jury a flawed instruction in the penalty phase of Mumia’s 1981 murder trial. However, 28 other issues brought forth in Habeas Corpus Petition by his former defense counsel, Leonard Weinglass, were denied. In addition, the court denied the new defense team’s supplemental brief to consider on its merits and place into the record the new issue, including but not limited to, the confession of the admitted assassin of Officer Faulkner, Arnold Beverly.

The Federal District Court’s ruling severely limits the probability of even having the Appellate Court overturn Mumia’s wrongful conviction. The Court not only has denied 28 issues in the original petition but only one issue of racially biased jury selection has received a certificate of appealability. Unless a circuit justice or judge issues a certificate of appealability, an appeal may not be taken to the court of appeals. The Federal District Court refused to even consider or take into evidence the confession of Arnold Beverly because it was not brought forth in a timely manner by his former defense team led by Weinglass.

Thus, this severely limits the issues that the defense team can bring forward in any subsequent appeal to the United States Third Circuit Court of Appeal. According to the 28 U.S.C.S. 2253 (c) (2) a codification on the Anti- Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996 (AEDPA), an appellate court cannot not consider and does not have jurisdiction of issues in a petition that has not received a certificate of appealability at the district court level.

With this ruling the defense team, led by Elliot Grossman, faces an uphill battle in being allowed to present to the 3rd Circuit Court of Appeals the overwhelming evidence of innocence, prosecutorial misconduct, police frame up, and denial of Mumia’s constitutional rights.

The vacating of the death penalty by Judge Yohn gives the Philadelphia District Attorney’s office an option to re-hold the death penalty phase of Mumia’s trial. At any new re-sentencing hearing there is a distinct probability the state court in Philadelphia (known literally as a hanging court for defendants of African descent) will possibly re-impose the death penalty on Mumia. Furthermore, at the death penalty phase of a murder conviction, the jury, to spare the defendant’s life, must determine if there are mitigating circumstances and factors and thus impose a sentence of life in prison or whether the aggravating circumstances and factors require a sentence of death.

In accordance with Pennsylvania Statute, specifically, 42 Pa. C. S. Section 9711, one of the aggravating factors is whether the victim is a law enforcement officer. This puts Mumia’s defense at a disadvantage at the onset of any death penalty hearing. It is probable that the Philadelphia District Court judge will not allow any evidence of innocence in a new penalty hearing because innocence is not a mitigating circumstance in Statute.

by Mildred Thomas

Dear POOR Magazine,

We're the directors of the Canadian Coalition Against the Death Penalty. We were doing a search for info on William Neives, exonerated Pennsylvania death row prisoner, when we came across an article in your zine.

We have been involved for some time in the case of Jimmy Dennis, an innocent man on death row in Pennsylvania. His case involved the same prosecutor, Roger King, in Philadelphia, and his legal team is now hopeful he will also be exonerated. (See: http://www.jimmydennis.org and http://www.jimmydennis.com. )

Another Roger King wrongful conviction, the case of Fred Thomas, was recently stalled in the courts when the Judge recused himself at the last minute, setting Fred's legal team back to square one. Fred is terminally ill with liver disease, and it appears the courts are hoping Fred will pass before an effective challenge of his conviction can be mounted. (See Fred's page at:
http://ccadp.org/fredthomas.htm.)

Police who interviewed witnesses in his case have since been busted for corruption. Prosecutor Roger King, who witheld evidence in both the Neives and Dennis cases, has developed a reputation among abolitionists for working with coerced statements, unreliable witnesses and for withholding evidence in Philly trials. He is believed to be responsible for numerous wrongful convictions.

Along with our ongoing concerns and work in the area of wrongful convictions in Pennsylvania, we are at the moment very concerned about Fred Thomas, who is currently in intensive care. The CCADP is saddened to report that Fred is terminally ill with end stage liver disease. The only thing that would save him at this point would be a liver transplant, which is unlikely under present circumstances. His family and other concerned individuals and activists are fighting to get Fred transferred from death row to hospice care where he can be treated humanely. His sister reports: "We are having a demonstration on January 10 ,2002.
Everyone who can, please come out and join us." The demonstration will be in Philadelphia. Please email Fred's sister Mildred for more info at:
mthomas@b-2000.net

Thanks so much!

Tracy Lamourie and Dave Parkinson, Canadian Coalition Against the Death Penalty http://www.ccadp.org, 416 693 9112 ccadp@rogers.com

NOTE FROM FRED'S SISTER MILDRED THOMAS, Dec 28, 2001: "Please let everyone know that Fred will certainly appreciate any mail he receives even though he may not answer in a timely manner. His health is very poor at this time.

Also we would appreciate
any support we can get in writing…I'm including
some names and addresses that I have, but if anyone knows of anyone else that we should write to please let me know."

- Mildred Thomas

Secretary Jeffrey Beard
P.O. Box 8837

Camp Hill, PA 17001-4531

Deputy Commissioner William Love

P.O. Box 8837

Camp Hill, PA 17001-4531

Superintendent Donald T. Vaughn

P.O. Box 246

Graterford PA 19426-0246

Catherine McVey

P.O. Box 8837

Camp Hill, PA 17001-4531