Story Archives 2010

Generational Culture Pimping: Hollywood and the Young Non-White Male’s Upbringing

The arguments my father and I had about race and identity, would stay locked in my mind for years, keeping his demanding ideas of how I needed to "assimilate to white culture not act too black" as a reminder to myself what i could never become or tolerate, living as a young NON-WHITE male.

I thought about how he carried his self when he was my age, did he hear and see the racism I tasted on the daily, poisonous spoonfuls being served up by teachers and store clerks alike, that I would vomit up in an intense reactionary response at their feet. Even though we had a serious generation gap between us did he contain fear in these moments and end up being a racist, hating what they didn't like about him. I thought about this as, we battled for the 1000th time about school and what I was becoming, in his eyes, a failure, a future bum on 7th street wasting away life by the Oakland Pier.   

Fear of who I am brought me here, unable to understand why I, why we don't love ourselves, planted in our thoughts, toxic seeds,

bursting through like uncontrollable weeds,

 pushing past our true roots,

got me writing fuck Amerikkka inside of my Social Studies textbook

as my pops supervises me like a correctional officer, he’s waisting his time.

 instead of 8th grade cirriculum, I was writing rhymes,

the puzzle pieces to our fucked up times,

 thick is the silence, cuz we used up all the words,

 all the verbal violence

over how one should act,

 he says white, but mothafucka

I'm black, my spirit’s not like that.

Around the time I was born, a Hollywood film company came to Oakland CA to film a movie based on a script written by Robert J. Poole, about a young pimp's trials and tribulations. The director, Micheal Campus chose Oakland as sole film location because of it's notoriety for pimping as he learned from stories actors had told him about legendary men of leisure who drove luxury cars and had stables of women statewide. Bringing along Max Julien, a young actor, who in turn brought his friend, a then unknown ,Richard Pryor, and they made history with the highly influential classic, The Mack."Traveling to Oakland, Julien and Campus sought the help of the Ward brothers, four men who ran Oakland's criminal world"."Trouble came when Huey Newton and the Black PANTHER PARTY-who ran  the political side of Oakland-felt the production had infringed on their turf. Julien was friends with Newton, but before filming completed Frank Ward was shot in the back of the head and killed. "The film crew wrapped up the rest of the movie in L.A and even included the conflict in the storyline with pro black freedom fighters kidnapping pimps and dealers led by the main character's brother who delivers the classic lines sampled by Dr.Dre in the intro of lil ghetto boy off his 1992 album THE CHRONIC.

Watching this film as a 9 year old I only picked on the scantly clad women and the violent revenge seeking hero killing all the bad guys. Rediscovering it as a teenager, I saw the revolutionary conflicts and the redemption of a lost soul that I missed the first time I viewed it. I even saw how these elements were small in comparison to the highlighted, overemphasized imagery of the pimp game, but were enough to insure this movie wouldn't be the next blockbuster for mainstream audiences when it was released in the 70's.I wasn't sure if my dad had seen The Mack, but when I first saw it I mentioned it and he dismissed it as crap "you lil niggas shouldn't be watching." He then began to be concerned about what I was watching and listening to, especially when he found my Prince and The Time cassettes with songs like "Annie Christian" and "My Drawers." At 9 years old, I didn't fully understand much of the meanings of this material, but I understood one thing my pops and I were like two different families, that didn’t want to eat at the same table, when it came to culture. He despised hip hop, which at that time in it's infancy was non-white unlike the radio friendly, suburban Emimen, Justin Bieber, Depeche Mode, sell your soul to Madison Ave, sound of today's modern rap artist. After arguing about what I was gonna do after flunking out of 7th grade, my answer was rapper. He said no son of my is gonna be a rapper, eventually cursing me from ever securing a multi-million dollar deal for these dope rhyme skills i got, B. By the time I saw The Mack again was convinced my father was not from Oakland, he was never a pimp, and most importantly he was never a revolutionary. Truthfully, he was born and raised in Oakland, and every man in Oakland was not either a pimp or a revolutionary, but how could you not be affected by these 2 different movements being black and alive during this influential time period in such a soulful, independent locale such as Oakland. His family and most black families migrated to Oakland in the early 1940 segregated days looking for freedom and opportunity from the South, where my 3rd generation descendant changed his slave name Duplessis to the more French sounding Trevigne to gain access into the military as white man to fight in the first world war. Was this legacy my father, wanted us to carry on? Was I the fool for thinking our legacy was Eldridge Cleaver, Nat Turner, and Marcus Garvey? A dummy for thinking our legacy was Huey Newton, Harry Allen, or Krs 1. Even stupider for acknowledging the Philipino side of me in joSE Rizal, Agueda kahabangan, and Bonifacio and the Katipunan, WHO helped defeat the Spanish enslaved us with christianity. The same philipino BLOOD of my grandfather, whose final words on his deathbed to my father were "fuck you nigger."

Eye caught on that it was deeper, a factor for his poor health,

that underneath all his complicated layers, he hated his self.

his inner self destruction washed away my innocence

and kept me not present through life like he had been

our difference was while he despised his own people

i was one of hip hop and black anger's son screaming fuck white people

breaking the cycle with a mind so lethal.

no movie cameras to record our acts

the system must hoe up and let the people be the Mack

and drive off into the sunset in liberated cadillacs

...CHURCH

Check out these articles and more on our sister sites at Real Change and the International Network of Street Newspapers: INSP Vendor Blog: http://www.insp-blog.org/ INSP Main Website: http://www.street-papers.org/ Real Change Blog: http://www.insp-blog.org/realchange/ Real Change Main Website: http://www.realchangenews.org/

The long black gate  8/27/10

People are breaking in
And theres people trying to escape
Our cargo weight
Selling shit  sold  about
And contain shit that stakes place
It’s a see through wall
It ain't to far past you see those bombs
It’s a war I was told
The people, the cartels
And the border police are so cold
Driving downhill daily
You just see these clouds of smoke

Border Bros.  8/28/10

Back, black en la frontera
More cameras with droids
We like pizza slices
Capitalism is the noid
Classist people to me are hemroids
U.S. is a playgrounds for us toys
At the boarder searching to be free
Stopped again by sellout motherfucking police
They separate themselves, you and me
But the wealthy run through just vacationing

Crystal Rey    8/29/10

With all the bullshit at the front gate
The community still danced the Crystal Rey
Ninas y ninos took over the stage
Know one dared leave until it rained
You could feel the tension, seen in the face
Killing our culture on a daily base
And 600,000,000 more that they pay
Juarez, El Paso, soon all the U.S.A

La mujer obrera(the woman worker)  8/30/10

In the 40’s and 50’s industrial age jobs were shifty
We laced the whole boarder factoridly
Disorderly, historically
La mujer el trabajo, toda via abajo
Working the line with much unpaid overtime
From the fields to the factory
Puro pinche pecos ella stackidly
Bodies were shifted cog in the wheel
Made of wood, cotton and steel
There ain't so room to heal
Women organized as they always do
Mother abuelita y me tia too
 

Disaster strikes as the phone rings, I don’t want to answer it cause I know nothing will be the same afterwards. My thoughts fall away.  My abdomen starts to cramp sending up tiny little knots slowly making their way up to my throat as I anticipate the news I’m about to hear. The feeling is familiar, the voice on the other end of the phone trembles.  The tremble triggers my body reacts like second nature.  I already know what coming next.  The cancer is back, the job isn’t available, the notice on the door says we owe money, something didn’t work out.  All these things flash through my brain scanning for the most plausible scenario that could cause this voice to tremble so.  Every time I hear that voice the process starts.  Before I can push it all down deep inside like it doesn’t exist this is what I feel.  The few seconds of time I have to really feel what’s happening inside before I have to suck it all in and be strong. This is what happens.  Disappointed, frustrated I can’t take hearing one more loved one call and give me bad or broken news, hope crushed, plans changed.  How many let downs, doors  slammed,  can one life have?  I’ll be there no matter what.  Restless night tonight, sweaty chest turns to itchy red rash, stomach constantly rumbling, never leaving without my Tums in my pocket.  Sleeping with heating pads to soothe my anxious insides even through hot and sticky nights.  Hands trembling and heart in throat I strive to find time and words to defend those I chooses as family to those I was given as family.  The judgment in their eyes feels like daggers penetrating my pride with shame and resentment.  Hate and rage fills me up until I feel tears welling up in my eyes.  I want so badly to not care what they think or what they judge, but my body lets me know that won’t be the case this time.

I come from people who have no land.  I come from people who stick together because when you don’t have land people are the next most stable thing.  The one thing that will never leave and you can never leave behind is your brain, your intellect, your thoughts.  My relatives came from Eastern Europe in a time and a place where Jews lived in constant fear and trust was only reserved for those who shared your same history because anyone else might kill or rape you and burn your house down.  There’s stories of my great, great, great, great grandfather killing a soldier and his horse in order to prevent a rape during a pogrom.  He then buried both the soldier and his horse and fled never to be heard from again.  These were stories my family recited with pride; stories of rebellion and revolution.  There were many Jewish pogroms in Russia around 1917 during the Russian Civil War: an estimated 70,000 to 250,000 civilian Jews were killed throughout the former Russian Empire; there were an estimated 300,000 Jewish orphans.  In 1938 there were 214,000 Jews left, by 1942 only an estimated 2-5,000  Jews existed in the area my grandparents were from.

As far back as 1244 Jews were living under what was called the Bill of Rights for Jews.  This official document placed Jews in the profession of tax collectors and the money lending business.  This was forced onto the Jews, but with a history of being exiled and a nomadic people Jews often found themselves working with what no one could take from them, their mind.  “In a Europe where Jews were always considered resident-aliens, subject to expulsion or expropriation at the whim of the political class, it made sense to have a livelihood not tied to the ground.” (fff.org) Common professions for Jews became teachers, doctors, lawyers and accountants.  These could easily be practiced and moved on very short notice with very few resources.  These were also professions that eventually would earn them favor with the powerful and elite of society.  Since, these were the types of services only they could afford and use most often they found it in their best interest to protect the Jews and keep them in good close by.

“The landlessness of the Jewish people is the source of its malady and tragedy.” (Ber Borochov, 2010).  A Zionist who believed Jews needed land in order to finally be safe.  Palestinians also a landless people, ones we should feel some empathy to are now suffering the same atrocities as Jews, but by hands who should know better.   Jews have become the ultimate pimp.  They became what the powerful and prestigious wanted Jews to become.  They played right into their plan.  My uncle owned a pawn shop connected to a liquor store in  one of the most poverty stricken neighborhoods in Dallas, Texas.  A place were Jews weren’t allowed to practice their religion until 1821.  A place where they were forced to resettle in the Government created program to stop the “crowding” problems on the East Coast.  I remember a dinner when my family was joking about how good of an idea and how genius this business venture of  my uncles was.  I wasn’t laughing;  I was mortified and these conversations are what finally what found me excommunicated from my family’s home and gatherings. 

I come from Poverty Pimps who came from Poverty Pimps who came from Poverty Pimps that can traced back as far as almost 800 years ago.  What happened to my great great, great, great, great grandfather and all those others in my family remembered for their bravery in standing up to evil and oppression no matter the cost?  Why aren’t those stories the ones we liken ourselves to and dream to emulate? Why doesn’t my family see in me what my great, great, great, great, great grandfather saw in himself?  Why do I have to be a Poverty Pimp to be validated and not judged in the Jewish Community?  Legacies of Poverty Pimps litter Jewish pasts displacing and polluting the representations we have of ourselves.  We do not have to be these poverty pimps anymore.  No one will kill us or exile us if we don’t.  I choose not to be and I pursue all paths and people who will keep me on my toes and call me out if I fall into those traps again.  

Religion is often used by the political elite to control people and push their own agendas.  On the local level Christianity today is a clear example.  many politicians claim to be devout Christians and support swing vote issues such as opposing same sex marriage and pro-life, but in the reality of their own lives they do not live by these ideals.  We all are aware of the many homophobic politicians who are bent on withholding rights from the LGBTQ community, only later to be discovered as gay themselves or active in the gay community.   There are also politicians who claim "family values," while soliciting underage prostitution or using illegal drugs at the same time.  This is just on a small scale, fringe issues.  It is easy to see at the international level as well. Financial support of Contras and wars in the name of religion are being funded by governments and banks.  Genocide and racist coups are able to happen in most cases because politicians are funneling money to be used by these passionate zealots to fight wars that will win them land, resources, and power.  Religion has served the elite well and the religious poorly and my family is right smack dab in the middle, a perfect place for finding pimps.

Check out these articles and more on our sister sites at Real Change and the International Network of Street Newspapers: INSP Vendor Blog: http://www.insp-blog.org/ INSP Main Website: http://www.street-papers.org/ Real Change Blog: http://www.insp-blog.org/realchange/ Real Change Main Website: http://www.realchangenews.org/

La historia actual de los monitores inteligentes de PG&E./ The real story behind PG&E's smart meters.

scroll down for English

          Hay cosas buenas que la gente cree que son malas, y de las malas nadie sabe
nada.  De los inmigrantes se dicen muchas cosas. Que venimos solo a quitarles el trabajo a los gringos, dicen que somos malos. ¡Mentira! Nosotros no somos malos, somos trabajadores. Limpiamos casas, cuidamos niños y lo hacemos con mucho amor. Los latinos somos personas respetuosas y seres humanos como cualquier otra raza. Tenemos sentimientos y nos duele cuando nos tratan mal o nos discriminan. Lo hacen por el simple hecho de no tener papeles legales.

           Yo como latina emigrante y madre de familia me siento triste y con miedo. No solo de las humillaciones, sino también de la ciencia avanzada moderna que día a día aparecen. Lo peor es que son muy dañinos para la salud y el medio ambiente. Digo esto porque la compañía de pacifico gas y electricidad más bien conocida como el PG&E, está instalando nuevos aparatos. El aparato se llama Metro Inteligente o Detector Inteligente. Estos aparatos están siendo instalados en los contadores que meden la electricidad y el gas en las casas. Aunque su función es practica es un aparato dañino. Este aparato puede causar náusea, dolor de cabeza, dolor de piernas y hasta puede causar cáncer en el cerebro. Estas dolencias pueden ser más comunes si las instalan dentro de las casas. Desgraciadamente estos aparatos ya están haciendo efecto, y afecta más rápido a los niños. De 70 personas, más de uno ya tiene este problema.

          Aunque no todo lo causa la electricidad, pero lamentablemente este aparato es dañino para la salud y hasta puede provocar la muerte o la paralización. La gente lamentablemente no está enterada del daño que causa este aparato. Pues a la simple vista se ve hermoso y moderno. Incluso hasta algunas personas pueden sentirse emocionadas de tener este aparato en sus casas. En verdad yocomo madre estoy asustada por la salud de mi hijo y de mi familia al igual que cualquier otra familia. En California están planeando instalar 30,000 Metro Inteligentes.

           Yo quisiera poder hacer algo y parar la instalación del Metro Inteligente. Desgraciadamente no tengo la habilidad para actuar. A mí en realidad no me gusta la inteligencia de la ciencia técnica, pues día a día se va perdiendo lo natural. ¿Qué va a pasar con el medio ambiente?  ¿Qué va a pasar con la salud de nuestras familias y la de otras personas? Todos estos químicos nos matan lentamente. Yo estoy aterrorizada. En verdad yo quisiera un medio ambiente con bosques, ríos, animales para vivir saludables. Por eso le demandamos a la compañía del PG&E si parar estas instalaciones. La verdad se los agradecería con toda el alma.

Ingles sigue

          There are good things that people think are bad, and of the bad things people know nothing.  People say a lot about immigrants.  They say things such as, we only came here to take the jobs away from the white people, they say that we are bad.  Its a lie! We are not bad people, we are workers.  We clean houses, we take care of children and we do so with lots of love.  The Latino people are respectful and human being just like any other race.  We have feelings and it hurts when me are treated badly or when we are discriminated against.  People discriminate against us for the simple reason that we are without legal papers.  Myself being an immigrant and a mother of a family I feel sad and scared. 

          Humiliation is not the only thing making me feel sad and scared but also the constant modern science advances that are taking place everyday.  The worst part is that these advances are harmful to health and the environment.  I mention this because PG&E is installing new meters called Smart Boxes.  These meters are being installed to measure the electricity and gas of homes.  Even though their function is practical they are very harmful.  This meter can cause nausea, head ache, leg pains, and may even in extreme cases can cause brain cancer.  These health effects may worsen if the meters are installed inside the home.  Unfortunately these meters are already taking effect and they effect children at faster rate.  Out of seventy people one is already experiencing these effects. 

          It is not electricity itself that is the issue in this case, it is these meters that can in the worst case cause paralysis or death.  Unfortunately the people are not informed about the harm that these meters cause.  The meter itself looks simple and modern, to the point where some people feel excited to have the meter in their home.  As a mother I am very scared for the health of my son and my family as much as other families.  In California they are planning to install 30,000 Smart Meters. 

          I hope to be in a position to stop them from installing a Smart Meter in my home.  But the reality is I am not and I am unable to act.  The technical sciences are something that I do not like because day after day we are moving farther away from what is natural.  What will happen to the environment?  What will be the future of the health of our families?  All of these chemicals are killing us slowly, and I feel terrorized.  I would prefer an environment with forests, rivers, animals in oder to live healthy.  That is why I demand PG&E  halt the installation.   
 

Native Hip Hop Workshop

Many times youth use their creativity to express themselves, at the same time they are rarely ever published or given credit for their work through the media. Sometimes we do not encourage young people to use their voices to create social change or to look at the problems in their community and use art as a way to solve these issues. Native Hip-Hop Workshop works with youth to use their creativity and get their voices out there.

On August 23-26, 2010 the Boys and Girls Club of the Southern Ute Indian Tribe hosted another Native Hip Hop Workshop. There were over 50 students who participated in the three workshops offered. The workshops covered DJing, photography, and graffiti art mural. The workshops started with a traditional blessing from Larry Tucker, a BGC elder/grandpa.

The Photography class was offered by Tay from Durango. They covered much of the Southern Ute Indian Reservation by using their camera lens by showing what they see everyday, and what is important. Many pictures consisted of Nature, people, and the community center. A few pictures from the Spring Break Native Hip Hop Workshop were published in the Durango Telegraph.

The DJing workshop was offered by Darrell Clah and Oscar Cosio. The workshop used ION DJ turntables, and a Kaossilator. They mixed many different music genres with their own scratches.

The Graffiti Art Mural was offered by Mari, Cee Cee Carpio from New York City and Miguel Perez of San Francisco Bay Area, CA. This was a requested workshop from many youth at BGC. The mural images came from the youth in the workshop and the mural wanted to focus on healthy lifestyles especially concerning tobacco abuse. The Mural clearly states “Keep Tobacco Sacred”, which comes from the SMART Moves Policy Council working on getting a tribal policy concerning SunUte Community Center being tobacco-abuse free. On the Mural, the youth wanted every image to be connected to each other, which is represented with the tipi, rainbow, waterfall, and shawl. There are two BGC elders represented on the murals, Ronald Yellowbird, and Betty Box.

There was many community supporters who without Native Hip-Hop Workshop would not be possible especially Kasey and Ronald from the Dancing Spirit Co-op Art Gallery. To find out future opportunities on media arts at BGC of SUIT, contact Mari or Darrell at (970) 563-4753.

This article was reprinted in the Southern Ute Drum.

new bus shelters are

energy efficient--it

is not a joke

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new bus shelters give

rain more ways to make me wet!

thank you MUNI

What do electricity/gas/water utilities, public transit systems, and department store/supermarkets have in common?  We the people have been and are being sold on paying bills and fares digitally, on-line, whether we want to or not.

Safeway and other chain store shopper cards, Fast-Trak, and Smart Meter—systems that can follow a “customer/consumer’s” use of power and other necessities, purchases and movements around a city, county, or region—came first.  By May 2011, four Bay Area counties will have removed fare boxes from public transit systems.  First called Trans-Link, the new way to pay for a Bay Area bus, light rail or commuter train ride is called the Clipper card.  Bay Area bridges were first, with the installation of the Fast-Trak system.

San Francisco Supervisor Ross Markarimi, the Board of Supervisors’ representative on the MTA (Metro Transit Authority) Board, which oversees all Bay Area transit systems, knew about Clipper before anyone else on the Board of Supervisors.  Despite this knowledge, there was no discussion of it on the Supes’ Transportation Committee or MUNI’s board.

The card has been a two-year experiment (that Thornton Kimes thought would die a quiet death because of corporate news media reports that the company involved was having huge problems getting the system going elsewhere, as well as in the Bay Area).  Honk Kong, with some mainland Chinese cities following, began using the “Octopus” Card in 1997 according to Wikipedia.

Golden Gate Transit was the first system to try TransLink/Clipper.  A.C Transit followed suit, with MUNI next and other systems deciding they had to do it too.  Wanna jump in a lake?  Don’t mind if I do!!!

All these systems, going through incredible economic trials and tribulations these past few years, collectively spent $1 million to have a consultant tell them that the phrase “TransLink” wouldn’t go over too well with the public, thus the “Clipper Card” was born.  It is true that there used to be “Clipper ships”, but that was back in the day.  That was then, this is now—while the actual scanning machines are still called TransLink, we now have this unexciting name for a card we will all have to use.

Or, Thornton supposes, “Clipper” is actually a good name!  It tells you exactly what’s being done to you every time you use the thing!  Why do I and Bruce feel this way?  Because the Clipper Card clips the poor.

Bruce feels scammed.  San Francisco is, of course, one of the populations being scammed, but at least the card replacing MUNI’s current hodgepodge of payment methods will be good for a month and not suck money out every time a rider swipes.  We can thank Ross Mirkarimi for that much, at least.

This is not true outside of San Francisco!   Commuters, whether they work in San Francisco, or not, will have to pay attention to how much money is left on their cards.  They will have to recharge their cards, just like FastTrak, just like a BART card.  BART is switching to Clipper too.  There’s no escape!

The A.M.I. (Average Median Income) in the Bay Area is $100,000.  This may seem like small potatoes to folks making $40,000 and above, but anyone making poverty level (or less…) is gonna feel the burn.  There will be Adult, Children’s, and Senior/Disabled Clipper Cards, plus the San Francisco card(s).

Folks in the Bay Area unable to watch tee vee because they couldn’t get a digital converter, or are otherwise engaged in the never-ending-struggle to survive (with not much time to read a newspaper, etc), will get an unpleasant surprise when the Clipper Card goes Full Time, All The Time.

The Digital Divide between rich and poor, as we have noted in previous POORmagazine articles (“Give A Sister A Break” {a.k.a. the iPAD story}…and others), continues and is getting worse.  MUNI’s website obliges a Spanish-only speaking and reading person to navigate English-language web-pages to get to the translated-to-Spanish section.  Clipped!

Happy Birthday Ray Charles

Happy Birthday Ray Charles.  I miss u!