Story Archives 2008

by Joseph Bolden

Rare Movie Review
Of I Am Legend

It’s rare I do movie review since that tobacco Movie.

I saw "Wild Wild West" and admit it was cool seeing Mr. Smith as James West but that’s all.

In "I Am Legend" Smith in the title role as a Military Scientist,an eye witness to the coming extinction of Humanity.

Takes it upon himself to find a cure to what mutation human's into blood sucking vampire.

A classic horror novel by Richard Matheson, Robert Neville (Will Smith) is the last human being on Earth or so he believes.

Everybody else on the planet has been transformed into blood-sucking vampires who all want to feast on Neville's neck.[info provided by movies.go.come/I-am-legend/ d865137/horror.

I must remind everyone this makes the third remake of mix of horror/science fiction of an ultimate doomsday unleashed
unwittingly by human’s in their striving to ride themselves of disease creates a 90% fatal mutated strain of measles.

I though as most people that Smith would ad a twist.

Indeed he does though daily scavenging savaging for food,weapons,still trying to combat a pandemic plague.

I read Richard Matheson’s book as a teen right after "Flowers For Algernon.

I do not recommend reading these works one after the other it gives bad dreams,can shred your psyche for a few months.
Mr.

Will Smith,a consummate actor faced the challenge surpassed it making the raw emotional power of the subject proving the power of moving image it talented has power and is Palitable!

I won’t spoil anything for those who may not have
Seen it Opening day or later in weeks to come.

My own slight scientific leanings aside in how the protagonist figures a way to win but the cost... overwhelming.

Sure I can see two other alternate endings but Will Smith is true the vision.

This folks is exactly why I don't do movie reviews.

Guess my sensitivity to both literature and screen causes me not see too many emotionally/intellectually laden works.

Its embarrassing to be with a fem friends tearing up at Ice Age.

She thought it sweet,shows tenderness.

She tears up too and her beauty shone through her wet eyes where as this works for her I…

I try damming it up but she saw and later of course its a small joke between us.

Well,He did it,this time the damp in me full force.

A Oscar performance, But no fourth remake please.

Like "Gordon Light- foot’s "If You Could Read My Mind".

I cannot see this movie again because… you know the rest of the song.

by Leroy Moore

Welcome to Krip-Hop News, a brand new concept where I and other writers will keep you informed about what is going on for Hip-Hop artists with disabilities and other disabled musicians. This is our second issue and introductory issue and we are asking you to contribute your news, topics and suggestions. Krip-Hop statement is as follows:

Artists with disabilities are in the music industry from Blues to Hip-Hop. From Blind Willie Johnson to Blind Rob and Cripple Clarence Lofton to 4Wheel City, our music has helped shape the world we live in. Krip-Hop continues this legacy with many voices from the US, UK, Spain, Africa, Haiti and more rapping not only to the Hip-Hop generation, but also to society and the world as a whole about the talents, politics and sexuality we embody while at the same time fighting against the discrimination that isolates us from one another.

Krip-Hop displays the beauty and strength of collaboration and disabled music history, present and future. Our aim is to get the musical talents of hip-hop artists with disabilities into the hands of media outlets, educators, hip-hop, disability and race scholars, youth, hip-hop conference coordinators, and agents and to report on the latest news on musicians with disabilities.

Krip-Hop News would like to invite you to help build or continue to build a present in the Hip-Hop Journalism industry. Krip-Hop News knows that there has been many individual disabled Hip-Hop artists that have been showered by the Black ink of Hip-Hop journalists’ pens including DJ Boogie Blind, MF Grimm and Bushwick Bill to name a few. However nine times out of ten, news of Hip-Hop artists and other musicians with disabilities don’t make it in high glossy magazines, journals and books but can be found in bits and pieces on myspace.com and other underground media outlets.

If you don’t have the time and resources to research these underground outlets than you miss news, CD release, documentaries, merchandise and events of disabled musicians. This is why I would like to help provide this news and hope it will take off with many writers on the internet and some time in the near future become a full fledged magazine in your local independent bookstores, but it is all up to you. At this point in time Krip-Hop News will be hosted on www.poormagazine.org and at leroymoore.com and will be in a blog form on cripmoore/myspace.com. In the near future the Krip-Hop Project will be on its own website.

Now Krip-Hop News Issue 2

Our fist issue was popping with news that’s not in Hip-Hop magazines or any other publications for that matter. We covered some new CDs, books and other merchandize from Hip-Hop artists with disabilities like MF GRIMM’s new book. (See below for a full interview with MF GRIMM). We let you know of Keith Jones and his exploration of running for political office as a Black disabled activist and Hip-Hop artist. Krip-Hop News sat down with Mr. Jones to talk about his run for US Senate. And, of course we gave you some insight of the new Krip-Hop Mixtape Vol.2. Vol. 2 just arrived in the mail from our new label 2THA Point Entertainment of Preechman from NY. Krip-Hop News is not only Hip-Hop but all music.

In this issue, we will look at the new book and work of Kenneth Tyson who has his own record label, 2nd Generation Records, and an entertainment center in Detroit. We will look at the October \November issue of XXL Magazine, which had an article featuring 4Wheel City. We could not leave you without telling you what new CDs, books and movies coming out by or about musicians with disabilities. So let do this!

I’ve been following MF GRIMM’s career since he became disabled in the early nineties. This will be my third article on MF GRIMM but it is the first time I had a chance to interview him about his new book, Sentences: The Life of MF GRIMM. My fist article on MF GRIMM was in 2OO5 published in the San Francisco Bay View newspaper. Back then I wrote about the violence in Hip-Hop that made another Hip-Hop artist from Detroit, Blade Icewood, a wheelchair user for a year before he was shot to death in his wheelchair. Very few artists survive the violence of the streets, Hip-Hop generation and accidents to write about it. Well finally MF GRIMM joins his counterparts in Soul music who are wheelchair users and are still cranking out hits or producing like Teddy Pendergrass and Kenneth Tyson.

All three, Teddy Pendergrass, Kenneth Tyson and MF GRIMM are in the music industry, all are wheelchair users and all have penned their stories in books. From my research, MF GRIMM’s book is the first “mainstream” book by a disabled Hip-Hop artist and because of that reason I bought two copies for my growing Black\Brown disabled library. Before we get into a very short review of Sentences, let’s hear from the man himself, MF GRIMM.

Kip-Hop News with MF GRIMM: New Book, Upcoming CD and…

Krip-Hop Where were you born?

MF GRIMM The Bronx

Krip-Hop: Tell us how was Hip-Hop when you were growing up in NY?

MF GRIMM It was more about battling styles and street corners. You were in a battle on The Street corner and people keep walking and don't stop to listen then you were kind considered wack but on the other hand if you caused giant crowds on the corner while you rhyme then you were considered worthy.

Krip-Hop: How long have you been in the Hip-Hop industry?

MF GRIMM: Since I was about 14 years old.

Krip-Hop: First a triple CD and now a book. What is next?

MF GRIMM: Films, and Animations, Television programming as well.

KRIP-HOP: Why did you write Sentences?

MF GRIMM: To explain to people that although you might make mistakes or even counted out, it's never to late to change your ways, and never give up hope of making something out of your life no matter the circumstances.

Krip-Hop: Give a brief description of your book

MF GRIMM: It's about my life from basically 5 years old until now and all the situations I put myself in that could have been avoided.

Krip-Hop: You have been on the big screen and in wrongly incarcerated. Tell me is there a real community in Hip-Hop or is everybody out for themselves?

MF GRIMM: There's a community, you just have to reach out and also allow those that's willing to help to help. As for wrongly convicted, I don't see it that way, I knew what I was doing and knew the repercussion of my actions and I served my time for it.

Krip-Hop: Do you think there is a dumbing down of lyrics in Hip-Hop these days?

MF GRIMM: No.

Krip Hop: Now you’ve been in the music and publishing industries. What are the pitfalls for artists?

MF GRIMM: Not knowing the legal aspects of the music business.
Krip-Hop: When you first approach the music industry after you became disabled what were the reactions towards you? And have things changes?

MF GRIMM: Yes, They felt I wasn't marketable because I was in a wheelchair...Things changed now I'm marketable.

Krip-Hop: Tell us the characters in your book. Who are they and where did they come from?

MF GRIMM: The characters are friends, family and enemies they're all real.

Krip-Hop: You know in my point of view you’re the only disabled Hip-Hop artist that have publish a book and got into Hip-Hop Magazine. How can other disabled hip-hop artists learn from you?

MF GRIMM: That's exactly what the book is about to never give up hope have faith in your self, but also learn from my mistakes. You don't have to sell drugs, and shooting people don't make you a man. And getting shot don't make you a better emcee.

Krip-Hop: What is your experience being a Hip-Hop artist using a wheelchair and do you think the Hip-Hop industry is ready for Krip-Hop AKA disabled hip-hop artists?

MF GRIMM: They don't have a choice, bring it to their face. don't let others decide if your worthy because they can walk, BE WHO YOU ARE.

Krip-Hop: As a CEO of an Entertainment business do you have totally control over your music and artists?

MF GRIMM: I have total control of all my projects. I don't control my artist. They have control over their projects.

Krip-Hop: Will you write another book?

MF GRIMM: Yes, several books and graphic novels.

Krip-Hop: Tell us more abut Sentences

MF GRIMM: The artist name is Ron Wimberly artwork is just as important and it's incredible, and Mr. Casey Seijas (editor at Vertigo/DC Comics) is the person who had the faith in me to help me turn this into a reality.

Krip-Hop: How can people contact you?

MF GRIMM: WWW.daybydayent.com

Krip-Hop: Is there going to be a book tour? If so are you coming to California?

MF GRIMM: Yes, I'll keep you updated.

Krip-Hop: Tells about your next CD

MF GRIMM The Hunt for the Ginger Bread Man released SEPTEMBER 25, 2007.

Krip-Hop: How can people get you book?

MF GRIMM: All book stores, and if it's not there then make sure they get it.

Krip-Hop: Any last words?

MF GRIMM: It's time to get out of these wheelchairs and stand up! It is mind over matter, never forget that.

MF GRIMM gives support and love to Krip-Hop Project:

“I love Krip Hop. What you're doing is very important, it's needed for the young children, dealing with any type of disability, to know that there's nothing on this planet that can stop them all they have to do is believe. You always support me, and I need to do the same for you. I admire and respect you for the great things you've done not for just people in wheelchairs but for humanity. We have a voice and it's our obligation to speak for those who don't have one and fight and defend those who can't defend themselves against all forms of discrimination injustice and oppression. Keep fighting my brother and tell all the disabled brothers and sisters I said "it's time to rise up!!"

Percy Carey AKA MF GRIMM

Krip-Hop News would like to thank MF GRIMM for his time and support!

Sentences: The Life of MF GRIMM Krip-Hop two cents Part 1

First of all, I have been waiting for this book since my first article about MF GRIMM back in 2005. So, when I finally got my own copy, I ran through this book like I was Carol Lewis. In two days I finished Sentences. As in the interview MF GRIMM corrected me on his arrest and his upbringing, the same education took place in his book. I had assumptions of MF GRIMM’s arrest and his life as a wheelchair user and as well Sentences burst my bubble and constructed the real image by the author’s own pen. There are many reviews of Sentences on the internet and the beautiful illustrations by Ronald Wimberly but for me and Krip-Hop News we’d I like to focus on the book’s story after MF became disabled.

To be continued….

Hip-Hop has always been political but now Hip-Hop artists are entering the political arena like Kevin Powell to disabled Hip-Hop artist, Keith Jones from Boston. Like MF GRIMM, this will be my third article on Mr. Jones but in this interview Jones makes it public that he is running for the Senate in the next Congressional race. Krip-Hop talks to him about his political views and his campaign along with his cultural work as a Hip-Hop artist. In the last election Massachusetts broke barriers by electing the first Black Governor. Now Keith Jones is on the campaign road to topple Kennedy’s seat in Congress. See http://poormagazine.org/index.cfm?L1=news&category=2 for the full interview.

by Tony Robles/Special to PNN

"When I die, bury me facedown so that anybody that comes to visit me can kiss my ass."

--James Robles

I was about 14 or so when my father said those words to me. My father was a joker to everybody but me. When he did joke with me, it was usually while we were working together as part of a 2 man work crew known as the Filipino Building Maintenance Company. Our motto was "Cleanliness is happiness." The problem was that I didn't really know how to clean.

"Man, where did you learn how to clean?" my father would ask me. "Look at all those piss stains you missed!" I'd stand before him with a dumb look on my face and a limp dust rag hanging from my ass pocket. I remember the sweeping, mopping, vacuuming carpets and cleaning toilets.

My father was a worker, like his father before him. He grew up in San Francisco's Fillmore district in a family of 10. My grandmother told me that when my father was a young boy, a Chinese man looked at his hands. He told my grandmother that he saw wealth in her little boy's hands. "That boy is going to be rich," the man said. He offered to buy my father from my grandmother to which she replied, "Get out of here you old Chinese fool."

Our family was one of the first Filipino families to migrate to and settle in San Francisco. Unlike today, my father and uncles did not have the opportunity to learn to speak Tagalog or Pilipino. Learning one's native tongue was not encouraged in those days. You were encouraged to speak English or "talk American." You can't really blame them back then they were on survival mode; they all wanted to be screen idols like Tony Curtis or Kirk Douglas (Never John Wayne).

My father grew up in the 50s and 60s, a time before the Filipino Channel or cable networks existed. What he had was the neighborhood and the smells of soul food, ”black eyed peas and ribs and cornbread” wafting from open windows mingling with the smell of tomato beef chow mein at SooChow's restaurant in Japantown and the smell of adobo and rice cooking in his mother's kitchen. The high and low notes of jazz accentuated the deep tones of African American voices laughing and hollering and singing and preaching and moaning and protesting and settling underneath the fullest of moons while waiting for the sun to rise and start all over again.

My father lived through the injustice of redevelopment in the Fillmore; being displaced while a neighborhood with history and memories tried to survive the siege of the downtown and political interests.

I think about my father often. I am a writer and native San Franciscan. So many people of my father's generation are dying by violence or ill health or a combination of factors.

I remember my father as a hard-working man. Martin Luther King once said that "If you are called to be a street sweeper, sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted." This statement applies to my father.

I watched him go from a janitor at the War Memorial Opera House to a small business owner, starting his own janitorial business. He'd complain about his job at the opera house and how he wanted something more. He met many famous people while sweeping floors and cleaning bathrooms in those halls of wealth and privilege, Frank Sinatra, Leontyne Price, Jimmy Carter among others. But he felt he needed something more, felt he was something more.

I worked with my father in his small business and to be honest, he was a bad boss. He was overly strict and overbearing but what I did not realize was that he was trying to make me like him, not a janitor, but someone who had pride in his work.

I would curse him under my breath. One time he heard me mutter the word, "asshole" and he responded by throwing 20 rolls of 2 ply, industrial grade toilet paper at me. (He had very good aim, hitting me with about 15 or so rolls). The point he was making to me was that you have to do things you don't want to do, that you have to get up and work and take care of business.

The man was a hard ass but I'm thankful for it. But despite his workman's pride, there was something missing. He never told me what it was but I felt it. Most of his friends were janitors and most of them settled into that because that was all they knew. They grew up in a time of limited opportunity. From Junior High through High School, they were passed over as the failures; those young men destined to do menial jobs with no possibilities of reaching beyond.

My father was a hustler, working 2, 3, 4 jobs to support us at the young age of 19. He worked and landed that job with the Opera House that he would keep for more than 10 years. One day he decided he was going to make a change. His wife was from Hawaii and he decided to move the family to Oahu. I did not want to go because it was my senior year in high school but my father was determined to make a new start.

We packed everything, including the janitorial equipment, and made the trek to Hawaii. It was tough, high prices and a tight job market. My father got a steady job but still pursued his aspirations of having his own business. He eventually secured enough accounts to work his own business full time. Things went well for a while but there was something lacking.

I talked to my father this morning; the sound of ocean waves coming over cell phone static. His business has been defunct for about 10 years due to economic downturns on the island. "I'm riding my bike to work," he says. He rides 4 miles each way to his maintenance job at a condo on Waikiki. We talk a little more and he tells me of his new love. "I've been carving. You know, I've always liked wood, ever since high school. Did I ever tell you that I took wood shop when I was in school?"

I listened as he told me of his woodcarvings. I never knew he took woodshop. He explained that he carves faces on wood. "I carve African faces," he says. "I think they're pretty good." I think of the years and the places and faces he's seen and the people that have come and gone in his life. I think of the days and hours he put into his work, the soul and spirit--now I can laugh at it all.

My father never stopped dreaming. His true purpose is in the forests of Hawaii. He knows the stories told in the faces of wood. The trees breathe through him and he is one with them; and the African faces he carves on them are beautiful. I'm sure those faces are the faces of his friends and family that have passed on to another place, another journey; Bobby Richard, Carol Player, David Scobie, Uncle Remy, Bill Sorro, Rudy Tenio, Richard Rekow; and those still with us; Uncle Anthony and Russell, Adrian, Charles, Rose and others. And I am his son.

I currently work for a non-profit organization in San Francisco. Ironically, I help low-income people obtain employment as janitors. But a job is a job, it's just a gig, you know? It isn't who you really are, my father is proof of that. And if you got a dream inside you, look at those trees. Dad says if you listen close enough, they'll tell you something.

by Max Gutierrez/Special to PNN

Uncle Gil was bad. Uncle Gil was nothing. Uncle Gil’s teeth were falling out. He had no money and he had no sense.

That’s what everybody said. Watch him when he comes to your house—he might steal something.

I stood next to the window of our house on Eddy Street. I looked at the cars floating by. They reminded me of fish with big fins darting in all directions.

The church down the block with its crumbling cupola stood alongside a liquor store. 8 or 9 men stood laughing and drinking in front of it as the church stood in silence.

I saw one of the men walk away from the group. He wore a gray suit with creases in the pants that were razor sharp. A black tie hung from his neck over a shirt that was whiter than fresh milk. He walked with a certain rhythm or cadence—as if music that only he could hear were being piped into his ears. The man’s face came into clear view. I opened the window.

“Uncle Gil! Uncle Gil!” I cried out.

The air was warm and sticky. I ran through the living room and down the stairs. I opened the door. I looked in both directions.

Where was Uncle Gil? I walked out onto the sidewalk. The cars continued to pass and the trees waved gently in abrupt spurts.

Where was my uncle? Maybe he went to church. He was dressed for it. Yes, that was it—he was at church saying a prayer. When he’s through with his prayer, he’ll come to our house and stay. He’ll tell me his stories and make funny sounds with his lips and cheeks.

I sat on the stoop in front of our house. The neighborhood kids began passing by. They rode bikes and cruised by on roller skates.

“Go get your bike and ride with us” one of them called out.

“I’m waiting for my uncle Gil”, I replied.

The church bell rang and the men in front of the liquor store scattered away like flies. Maybe I should go back into the house, maybe uncle Gil is playing a joke; maybe I didn’t see him at all. Maybe it was a guy that looked like him. I sat and heard the faint sound of footsteps that became louder. It reminded me of the sound of a small horse. My father walked like a horse and worked like one. That’s what he always said.

“What are you doing? He asked, his 5” 3’ frame looming over me.

“I’m waiting for Uncle Gil”

My father spit on the ground. His trousers were stained with dirt and paint. He reached towards his shoulder and kneaded relief into it with nubbed fingers.

“Uncle Gil” my father laughed, “He’s not gonna show up. He’s only good for 2 things…drinking and not showing up”.
My father looked down at me and laughed

“Your uncle Gil never worked a day in his life”

I thought about what my father said. I never worked a day in my life either. I liked Uncle Gil. My father always talked about work and how his body ached all over. Uncle Gil never had aches and pains and wore nice clothes. My father walked to our front door.

“You’re gonna be waiting forever. That no-good uncle of yours is out blowing his money, kid”

Dad disappeared into the house. I sat thinking about his words. Maybe I was going to wait forever. I began to wonder how long forever was. The sky darkened a bit when I saw a figure a half block away. As the figure got closer, I recognized the slacks with the razor sharp creases.

“Uncle Gil!” I cried, springing to my feet.

Uncle Gil reached out and ran his hand over my full head of black hair, tossing it out of place.

“How ya doin’ kid?”

I looked at Uncle Gil’s tie. It was black. He smiled.

“Uncle Gil”, I said, “You have teeth!”

Uncle Gil smiled wide, wide enough to cover the sky.

“Yes…you have to smile to survive”, said Uncle Gil.

We sat down and watched the cars pass by.

“Survive what?” I asked.

“Never mind”, Uncle Gil replied.

We sat for a while saying nothing.

“How are you doing in school?” Uncle Gil asked, yawning.

“I’m doing ok.

Uncle Gil ran his hand over his pants, making sure the creases were still there.

“Just study hard, kid. Get your education. They can never take that away from you”.

“Who’s they, Uncle Gil?” I asked.

Uncle Gil looked at me. He reached into his jacket pocket.

“I got something for you”

Uncle Gil put his two fists out towards me.

“Pick one” he said.

I looked at both fists. I pointed to the left one. Uncle Gil opened his fist. In it sat a silver dollar.

“Wow” I said.

“Buy yourself an ice cream”

I looked at the silver dollar. It looked new. I didn’t want to spend it.

“What’s in your other hand, Uncle Gil?”

He opened his right fist. In it was a candy, a sucker wrapped in bright cellophane.

“Who’s that for?” I asked.

“For your father” Uncle Gil answered, sticking the sucker into my shirt pocket above my heart. We sat and he laughed with bright teeth that covered the sky.

© 2007

Max Gutierrez

by Joseph Bolden

Not much to say than everyone have a great year and do your best to live,love, and be your own person.

by PNN Staff

To register in advance using the form below:

by Angela Pena/PNN

For English scroll down...

-Escrito por Angela Pena para Prensa Pobre

Declaran las personas Gays y Lesbianas: "Exigimos se nos respete como seres humanos.

Soy mujer latina, madre, reportera de Prensa Pobre con una cultura diferente de la Americana, pero respeto a la comunidad gay e lesbiana porque siento que solo buscan cari�o y amor entre ellos. El amor hace a los seres humanos nobles e iguales a todos nosotros. Hay muchas personas de todas nacionalidades y por eso es tan importante que nos unamos a todo el mundo en una frase de hermandad e igualdad. Quiero invitar a la comunidad latina a respetar a Gays y Lesbianas para tener un mejor tipo de vida mundial.

�l d�a S�bado 23 de Julio 2007 a las 7 p.m. en el parque Dolores se concentr� miles de parejas lesbianas con un solo fin de apoyarse mutuamente y de sentir que no son personas extra�as.

Ellas comparten sus pensamientos. Marta es una muchacha que le gusta vestirse de cuero con sus pantalones, camisa combinados con sus botas del mismo color hasta su motocicleta es del color oscuro, luce muy brillante en este desfile nos dijo que se siente feliz de poder decir que ella es lesbiana

Julia es pareja de Marta y ella declara su protesta con su manera se vestir trae solamente un short muy peque�o y unas botas negras, su camisa es la naturaleza de la piel ella nos dice muy emocionada �No somos seres raros, somos personas como ustedes.�

Stacey: es una persona que viene a unirse al desfile con una vestimenta muy original que representa a una mu�eca vestida de rosado con una flor en el pelo, me ciento feliz estar aqu� en este desfile, por que me ciento como una princesa.

Algunas parejas se re�an, cantaban, bailaban. Se sent�an felices de poder expresar sus emociones y algunas mostraban sus virtudes f�sicas como una manera de decir �Aqu� estamos, no nos ignoren!

A las 7 en punto se inici� el desfile, el cual lo encabezaron las motos que son fant�sticas y impresionantes tanto por sus coloridos, originalidad y estilos. Luego se les un�a todos los participantes caminando hasta llegar a la Alcald�a de San Francisco donde realizaron una reuni�n de festejo.

Personalmente yo felicito a la comunidad gay e lesbiana por su organizaci�n y sincronizaci�n en sus desfiles.

El d�a 24 de Junio 2007, La calle Market estuvo llena de personas que quer�an ver el fant�stico desfile de los Gays. Aproximadamente a las 10:30 empezaron a salir las coloridas carrozas alegres, en celebraci�n de parejas homosexuales. Es impresionante la organizaci�n de este desfile y por como ellos nos demuestran que son personas valiosas a la sociedad, por que este es el desfile m�s grande que se da en San Francisco. Participaron muchas organizaciones que les dan todo su apoyo. Fue el treceavo centenario de su celebraci�n, todos el vestuario es muy colorido, que da un toque de alegr�a a los que est�n presentes. Pero sobre todo, la felicidad que genera esta actividad con la m�sica y bailes cuando se agrupan alrededor del Alcald�a da mas realce al evento. Es un d�a muy esperado por todos los residentes de la bahia. Felicidades en esta celebraci�n.

Love Makes All of Us Noble

Gays and Lesbians Declare
�WE DEMAND THAT YOU TREAT US AS HUMAN BEINGS!�

Written by Angela Pena of P.O.O.R. Magazine

I am a Latina woman, mother, and reportera for P.O.O. R. Magazine. My culture is very different than that of North Americans, but I respect the Gay and lesbian community and believe they should be accepted.

Love makes all of us noble and equal human beings among ourselves. There are many people of all nationalities and therefore is so important that we join with everyone in a phase of brotherhood and equality. I want to invite to the Latin American community to respect the Gay and Lesbian community.

On Saturday July 23 at 7 o'clock p.m. in the Dolores Park thousands of lesbian couples came together with a single goal in mind: to support each other mutually and to demand to be treated as normal human beings.

They shared their thoughts. Wearing leather pants and dark boots, Marta is one of the first speakers. She lit up brilliantly as she told us that she feels happy to be able to say that she is lesbian.

Julia is Marta's partner and she protestsed with her wardrobe; only very short shorts and some black boots, her shirt made of natural leather. She told us sincerely, "We are not strange beings, we are people like you."

Another woman, Stacey joined the parade with a very original outfit that represented a doll dressed of pink with a flower in her hair. "I feel [extremely] happy to be here in this parade, because it makes me feel like a princess."

Some couples laughed, they sang, they danced. They felt happy to be able to express their emotions and some used their wardorbes as a way to say "Here we are, Do not ignore us!

At 7 o'clock sharp the parade began, and was headed by the fantastic motorcycles with impressive colors, originality and styles. Then all the participants united and walked together until arriving at the city Hall of San Francisco where they carried out the festival.

Personally I congratulate the gay and lesbian community for their organization in the community.

On June 24th Market Street was full of people wanting to o see the colorful, expressive Gay and Lesbian parade. At about 10:30 the happy and colorful floats began to fill the streets in celebration of same sex couples. The organization of this parade was impressive and all the participants showed us that they are valuable people to society. Many organizations participated and gave their full support.

It was the thirteenth centennial of the celebration, marked with a colorful wardrobe and happiness was shared by all. The joy increased with the music and dancing of the crowd outside of City Hall, drawing even more attention to this unforgettable event. It is a day looked forward to by all Bay Area residents.

by Tony Robles/Special to PNN

I sit at my desk watching the rain fall against the window. Just a few minutes ago I saw a man wrapped in a suit made of garbage bags. The man even fashioned a stylish looking hat made of those bags. I look out at the scene below the office here at 1095 Market Street while the sirens blare in the distance. A lot of people are hurting; a lot of people are suffering right now. I wonder where some of them slept last night. I wonder if some of them slept at all. In all honesty, I sometimes wonder what good I am doing in this job as employment counselor. I sometimes ask myself, "What the hell am I doing here?" I sometimes feel like a guy whose sleepwalking in some kind of mist, haphazardly looking for something to grab onto.

As I sit I hear a voice.

"Hey Tony...what�s happening mane�?"

I look and see the smiling face of Roger Rodriguez-Ispuria, tenant at the Hamlin. Roger is one of those guys who are always smiling. He is a graduate of the Maintenance Work Crew Program. He comes in looking sharp as always�silk shirt the color of butterscotch candy with matching shoes and slacks.

"What�s happening Roger?" I ask.

Roger smiles, his eyes radiating through thick glasses.

"You know...the same old thing."

He sits down and asks me to update his resume. He has changed phone numbers about 4 or 5 times within the last 2 months and I gladly update his phone number.

"I need to find a job" he says, "I've been on a lot of interviews."

We sit and talk and I wonder what keeps him smiling.

When Roger joined the maintenance work crew, I had doubts that he would make it. He didn't seem focused and I thought he would quit. Weeks went by and his attendance was good. Rodolfo, the crew leader, was pleased with Roger�s work and after 10 weeks, Roger received his certificate of completion. I put together a graduation announcement for Roger, complete with Puerto Rican flag and conga drum�an homage to his Boricua heritage and passion for music.

Roger is a musician�he plays congas and timbales at local clubs. He comes in to the Employment and Training office looking for work on Craigslist. He has been on many interviews for maintenance, driver, and janitorial positions�but hasn�t been hired.

"Things are not coming through," he says.

I look at him. The one thing that does come through is his smile. It would be great if everybody could have a smile like Roger. I keep looking for it as Roger keeps looking for that job.

Tony Robles who will be a featured contender in POOR Magazine's upcoming Poetry Battle of (ALL) the Sexes on Valentines Day is a contributor to PoorNewsNetwork's on-line magazine and radio broadcast, as well as an employment counselor for Community Housing Partnership, a revolutionary poet and "talk-story-teller", tenant organizer, working class skolah, Pinoy-African-Irish river which runs deeper than the delta and nile combined, good son of James and Flo, dedicated father of Lakas, y papichulo de tiny

The Poetry Battle of (ALL) the Sexes will be a benefit for POOR Magazine held on Valentines Day at the Beat Museum in North Beach�On this day normally equated with cutesy hallmark cards, flowers and candy, challenge your partner (or future partner) to a battle of spoken word, hip hop, poetry and/or flowetry in the ring! For more information or to register please email deeandtiny@poormagazine.org or go to http://www.poormagazine.org/index.cfm?L1=news&story=1903&pg=1

by Marlon Crump/PNN

"Idriss was a beautiful baby boy. At age 4, he was mad at me, and said Mom, you better watch out, because next time around, I will be your mother."

I listened intently as mesha Monge -Irizarry lovingly remembered her son Idriss, whose life was brutally stolen by the San Francisco Police Department.

"When he was 20, I bought our home in the Bayview Hunter's Point," she continued. "Kids from Double Rock came to challenge him, curious about what a 220 pound Black man with a huge Mastiff/pit-bull dog named Nanok was up to, asking where he was from...Idriss responded, "Hang on for a second," ran inside and came back out, with a folding table, two chairs, and a chess game. Soon enough the kids would come regularly and knock on our door, asking Where is E? I want to learn how to play chess!"

Listening to mesha recall fond memories about her son, I couldn’t help thinking about my own past and the many struggles I've endured throughout my entire life even before my own arrival here to the Bay Area, in San Francisco from my native hometown of Cleveland, Ohio.

Luckily I met mesha, one of the most incredible, compassionate and monumental women in the world two years ago. It was during one of the most difficult periods I've ever been through in my life. I had just experienced a brutal encounter with the San Francisco Police Department and had begun to seek counseling and treatment for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, as well as, police accountability for their unjust treatment.

During my search, a friend told me about the Idriss Stelley Foundation (ISF). I immediately called. I'll never forget the first thing mesha, the founder and director of the organization, said to me, "I am so very sorry that happened to you, Marlon, we will do everything to help you. That's a promise!"

Since then mesha has become one of my dearest, closest friends and the ISF continues to help and support me in my mental health struggles.

The Idriss Stelley Foundation is the one of the very few non-profit grass roots organizations based in San Francisco that courageously addresses the deep, painful issues surrounding police brutality.

The Foundation has changed many lives and effectively raised public awareness about police brutality, racial profiling, police violence against seniors, people with physical and mental health disabilities, and especially unjustified use-of deadly force.

My interview of I.S.F, mesha, and Idriss Scott Stelley, himself (in spirit) was going to be a very special interview.

I decided to do this important interview because the mainstream media has only written Idriss up as just another young Black statistic killed by a hail of police gunfire. I, along with the entire staff of POOR, strongly oppose this misconception and feel that the truth must be told. Most who never really knew him only remember how he died, but I felt that it was time for the correction.

My family of POOR Magazine, predominately Tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia, Leroy Moore, and Jewnbug (who was very close to Idriss) knew mesha better than anyone in our family, including myself. Idriss's heart was totally devoted to his family and friends, even up to the very day his life was stolen from him, by numerous San Francisco Police Department Officers, from the Bayview and Mission precincts, and the TL Police Task Force.

(I will explain this terrifying account, later, in the true summary version, from Parts II-III of this story) Ultimately, everyone that picks up a newspaper, turns on his or her television or radio or logs in to the internet news needs to know how just precious Idriss Stelley really was.

It was an extremely painful for me and for POOR Magazine, (a grassroots organization that fights 24-7 against the evils of poverty injustices, and re-framing KKKorporate Media News) to interview mesha about her non-profit grassroots foundation, its history, and its organizational construction on the very blood of Idriss Scott Stelley.

I arrived at mesha's home in the Bayview Hunter's Point community, on December 3rd, 2007. After a warm welcome of hugs and kisses, from meshá and Idriss' pet dog, Nanok, I began her interview, on I.S.F's mission statement, history, and the successful impact it has on everyone in BVHP, and possibly the universe.

Instead of a story, The Idriss Stelley Foundation deserves a mini-series, as there is just far too much of this organization's history that has been, overlooked, misunderstood and ignored by KKKorporate Media, and media in general.

While Alex Haley, author of (space)Roots which was introduced as a television series, that exposed the whole callous origins and aftermaths of the inhumane slave trade, in 1977; POOR re-introduces The Idriss Stelley Foundation Story, thirty years later, exposing failed proper procedural protocols, and training in law enforcement's response with unjustified use of deadly force, towards people with psychiatric breakdowns.

This is totally ironic, the concurrence of Idriss' birth and the television worldly launching of Roots... From a metaphorical perspective, between the two, there are so many root causes of hidden, neglected, and ignored evils that exist within this universe that many care to acknowledge.

meshá Mongé-Irizarry was born December 5th, 1947, in the Pyrenees Mountains, the Basque Nation. The Basque Country Basque Euskal Herria is a cultural region in the western Pyrenees Mountains at the border between France and Spain, extending down to the coast of the Bay of Biscay (Cantabrian Sea).

Her mother, Suzanne Mongé, was the head of a health organization, while her father René Mongé, was the editor of Social In formations Magazine, in Paris, France. Mr. Mongé was also a playwright.

meshá was the Director of Hayward Emergency Domestic Violence & Homeless Shelters when her child was killed. In 1968, meshá was the treasurer of National Union of French Students (U.N.E.F), during the socialist revolution uniting the Labor and Student movements, crushed by General De Gaulle in two weeks.

In 1975, following her arrival in San Francisco, California, she was the program director of various community organizations, Women Inc, La Casa De Las Madres for Battered Women , Shanti, A.I.D.S Services for people with H.I.V, and Lodestar, post-incarceration H.I.V services for women, diagnosed with the deadly virus.

mesha's resume proved to be even more extensive, as she holds various degrees and licenses in Public Law and psychology . She's even trained law enforcement officials and sheriff deputies, in the areas of mental-health, for twenty years. From the tender age of 14 to this day, she has been involved with progressive social issues.

"I taught Idriss that it is NEVER too early to commit to social justice." said mesha with a vibrant sunny smile, as she began to summarize the Birth of Idriss Scott Stelley.

To Be Continued in The Idriss Stelley Foundation Story Part II.

by Sam Drew/PNN

“We are grinding young men of color up like glass. Every institution in our community is failing young men of color,” said Ron Dellums Mayor of Oakland regarding the sinking position of young men of color in the United States. He was speaking at the “Men and Boys of Color in Crisis” panel and discussion at the Youth Uprising Center in East Oakland. I attended the event to report and support for POOR Magazine.

Listening to him speak, I couldn’t help remembering my bus ride in Oakland earlier that day. While on the packed bus, I noticed a young African-descendent male sitting a few seats in front of me. He was staring impassively at no one in particular during our bumpy ride on the unpaved streets of Oakland. As the bus began to fill up, older passengers began approached the youth decked out in a dark hoodie, brightly colored jeans and a blank stare, but no one would sit next to him.

Time and time again someone would approach him, give him the once over and then decide to sit or stand somewhere else. He reacted to this rejection by distancing himself and not making eye contact with anyone. His body language exuded an “I don’t give a damn attitude.” This mutual coldness continued for most of the overly long ride. It was odd to see one open seat in a loaded bus with plenty of standing passengers.

Finally, one new rider bucked the trend and forced her way to the seat. After a few minutes of emotional distance, the young man suddenly bolted from his seat for no apparent reason. But the reason soon became clear when an old man with a cane took the seat the young man had graciously given up.

The vision of this young man on the bus remained in my thoughts, as I listened to the powerful speakers at the day’s panel.

“I believe the problem of the city is the unfinished business of this country. It’s one thing to integrate a lunch counter. It’s another thing to have money to buy lunch,” quipped Dellums about the lack of economic opportunities facing many young men of color.

According to a report of the Children’s Defense Fund. Black and Hispanic workers holding the same educational credentials as white workers experience higher unemployment rates.

Harvard Law School Professor of Law, Charles Ogletree moderated between panelists and concerned citizens seeking ways to correct decades of neglect and criminalization.

Chris Robinson, a film and video director said, “It’s not an us or them conversation… it is interdependence. You sink or swim with us. We pay much less to educate a child than to incarcerate a child.”

According to the Children’s Defense Fund, a black boy born in 2001 has a 1 in 3 chance of going to prison in his lifetime: a Latino boy a 1 in 6 chance; and a white boy a 1 of 17 chance. Black juveniles are about four times as likely as their White peers to be incarcerated. Black youths are almost five times and Latino youths are more than twice as likely to be incarcerated as White youths for drug offenses. Today, 580,000 Black males are serving sentences in state or federal prison, while fewer than 40,000 Black males earn a bachelor’s degree each year.

Two of the most searing comments came from exceptional young men of color that many in the audience could identify with. Both men spoke about the importance of family.

Alfred Johnson, a father, Oaklander, and YouthUpRising member proudly said, “Being a parent is the cornerstone of our community. Being a parent isn’t taught in school.” While Tito Rodriquez told the audience that “Children are a blessing from God…the best way to teach them is not to point them in the direction, but walk beside them.”

Both of these positive and powerful role models have faced the typical roadblocks most boys and men of color deal with everyday. Tito was profiled by the police on his way to the meeting and Alfred is struggling raising his 3-year-old with his landscaping job with the City of Oakland.

Dr. Henrie Treadwell, Director of Community Voices and the associate director of development at the National Center for Primary Care at Morehouse School of Medicine, summed up the problem this way, “The Criminal Justice System is a reflection of what is wrong with our system. Policies are taking men out of the household and [putting them] into the prisons…It’s time for amnesty.”

Joe Brooks, Vice President for Civic engagement at Oakland-based Policylink, wrote these positive ways for beginning the healing process, “We must find more effective ways to connect these boys into the social networks that help them succeed…We need our boys to grow into full, well-rounded, able men. But to do that, they need more than a one-time math tutor or a free asthma inhaler. They need a society geared toward helping them overcome the hurdles that were thrown at their feet even before they were born…By joining together under a single banner, Bay Area advocates can ensure these boys return to lift up their communities and start a new cycle of hope.”