Story Archives 2012

Krip-Hop Burning the Ballot at The Capital

09/24/2021 - 09:05 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
Leroy
Original Body

Nazi slept with slave masters
Gave birth to Tea party members
Bill Clinton on the saxophone
While Obama tap dancing around racism

Occupy kicking out street folks
Facebook activism poke poke
Bill collectors on hold
Fuck paying off student loans

White House called me
I still have it on my answering machine
Could not deal with my advocacy
So they got the actress from GLEE

Uncle Sam wants me to pay my taxes
Yeah sure after I get my reparations
Youth with disabilities facing deportation
In the home & outside fear of execution

While media paints its own stories
Individuals and the state get off free
Occupy what are you crying about
Us disabled peeps have a 99% unemployment rate for centuries

Rick Santorum put a dollar sign on his disabled daughter
Cutting In Home Support Services, Jerry Brown just like Arnold Schwarzenegger
Party politics makes me fucking sick
From playground to office politics grew up taking licks

Took off the liberal costume
berkeleyans love their brooms
So they can sweep sweep isms under the carpet
1970’s Utopia is a crock of shit

Black Panthers severed white disabled protesters
It took how many years
to get a Black independent Living director
Now we have a campus named after Ed Roberts

While I and others get profiled
Parents calling the police on us
Ending up in tragedy Sit and lie policy
While tech nerds sit and lie all night for the new technology

Everything is gray but add some color
Then it is easy Black and white
Until it happens to some one with a lot of green
Then the ink fades from white paper called the law

Lawyers and reporters interoperated in their own way
Giving freedom to the wealthy
While Black professors/professionals write & talk about poverty
Nothing changes just the clothes on the pimp

Making money in the moment
Calling everything a movement
Capitalizing on the environment
Cooperation verse Mother Nature

Now we are in Sacramento next to the capital
Krip-Hop calling our people
Emptying politicians, bankers and CEO’s pockets
To stop foreclosures & balance the budget & burning the ballot

Learned from MLK
Non-violence through poetry comedy and music
Surprise as we turn the other cheek
You will get the teaching of Malcolm X
By Leroy Moore
4/22/12

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"Take What You Want And Leave What You Can't use

09/24/2021 - 09:05 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
Bad News Bruce
Original Body

There's a new store in town. It's called "Free Store". All items in the store are free. You should see the look on customers faces when they come in and realize that all items are free. If possible you may bring in something to trade or donate. This idea is not new, it goes back to the 60's, when most communes had one. Today it's mostly been forgotten, but thanks to Occupy and some of it's members there is a free store at 1020 Sullivan ave. in Daly City at the corner of 87th near the I.H.O.P. restaurant.
Free Store is open one day a week on Sat. from 10 PM until 5p.m. Expect a nice assortment of clothes for all, toys, electronic equipment and kitchen and bathroom accessories. Shock and amazement from unexpecting newcomers is not rare. This reporter has seen 5 people ask what items cost and the staff asks, "What does is the name of the store?" It may be closing in a few weeks so we're all hoping to get the word out to others across the country to do the same thing. This idea provides an educational dynamic as an alternative to capitalism, not unlike the good old trading posts. You will see a picture with this article of what the store looks like.


 
 
 
 
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Mi Nombre Es Ingrid de Leon/ My Name is Ingrid de Leon

09/24/2021 - 09:05 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
Tiny
Original Body

Espanol sigue/ Scroll down for English

30 Abril, 2012

Mi nombre es Ingrid de leon
Madre hija y hermana, tia sobrina
Sobre viviendo de las injusticias y
El sufrimiento de la vida por el hecho de ser mujer.

Yo recuerdo de niña recibiendo patadas, cachetadas, gritos y
un lazo golpeando me en la espalda. Una vara se quebraba en mis canillas y en voz fuerte gritando me: “Yo no soy tu padre pendeja para mantenerte”
Mis papas me vestían bien, puedo decir, siempre use zapatos de cuero y calcetas para proteger mis pies, por que mi salud era muy delicada…todo estaba bien cuando mi padre vivía.

Pero el sufrimiento empezó cuando mi padre falleció

El maltrato cada dia era mas y mas por los celos de mi hermano porque pensaba que yo era la hija preferida de mi papa, todos mis hermanos usaban zapatos y botas de plástico.
Pasaron unos años y yo quería salir de mi pobreza. Queriendo hacer algo por mi propia cuenta me fui a la Capital de la Ciudad de Guatemala y estaba contenta por el trabajo que tenia, que era limpiar la casa, cocinar, y yo vivía en esta casa ‘tranquila’.

Hasta que me encontré con lo peor de la vida, quien iba pensar que estando en una casa correría peligro? Pero a veces la casa se convierte en una jaula donde no te puedes escapar por ser mujer. Un Viejo abuso de mi, violándome como si yo hubiese sido un animal, me amarro las manos y la boca. Desde ese dia lloré por haber nacido mujer y por no ser pobre, y por eso me fui de esa casa. No salía a la calle por miedo de que alguien me hiciera mas daño. Era horrible sentirme como un papel de baño que se usa y se tira ya manchado al basurero.
Llore y me dije no debí haber nacido y sentía que ya no tenia sentido seguir con vida. Pensaba que hubiera sido mejor no tener alma ni corazón para no sentir dolor ni culpa por ser mujer. Necesitaba desahogarme y decir lo que me atormentaba pero por vergüenza de lo que diría la gente no me atrevía a decir nada. Si le digo a mi mama, que va pensar de mi? Era la pregunta dentro de mi Corazon dia a dia. Después de un tiempo me case con un hombre mayor que yo, pensando que me trataría bien, pero me equivoqué, el maltrato fue mas que cuando me quede sin mi padre. Seguía sufriendo el maltrato de mi esposo(ahora ex) y el abuso de el porque el decía, “con Dios no existe el divorcio”

Regrese a la casa de mi madre y las cosas empeoraron pues ya no estava sola. Segun mi cultura la mujer pierde su valor cuando tiene hijos sin estar casada o si se queda sin esposo .
Solo valemos y merecemos respeto de la gente si tenemos a un hombre a nuestro lado. Por eso seguí llorando por el echo de ser mujer y sin valor y sin futuro.
Yo no savia que hacer solo agarraba mas coraje con migo, yo no quería ser yo. Mas coraje me daba por no poder cambiar el ver nacido. Todos los díaz renunciaba a la vida, no solo por eso, también porque mi hermana siempre me hacía quedar mal con mi mama diciendo mentiras de mi, me dolía porque paresia que nadie me amaba. Empecé a golpearme yo sola, cada dia mas y mas. Quería cortar mi cuerpo, sacar mi Corazon y enseñarle a mi familia y a la gente que yo no era mala persona. Me mordía los brazos me arrancaba el cabello y muchas cosas mas me hice.

Me vine a este país, gracias a Dios el me cuido todo el viaje ningún coyote me hizo daño no me paso nada. Al llegar a este país me sonreía, pensé que me había escapado de tanta maldad y empecé a sentir libre y feliz. Empecé a amarme por lo que era, una mujer. Podia trabajar y decidir que hacer con mí dinero.

Pero una mañana, Las malas cosa empezaron a llegar y mi vida, se convirtió en un tormento que muchas veces pensaba tirarme del puente o debajo de un carro.
Muchas veces le pedía a Dios que me enfermara para que mi familia me amara, pero no pasaba nada. Me odiaba mas y mas, tanto que cuando me veia en un espejo me enojaba mas y me golpeaba diciendo “Ingrid por que naciste, estupida! si nadie te quiere” decía llorando. Pensaba que yo era mala y mas ahora que estoy aqui.

Un dia alguien me dijo, “tienes que quererte a ti para poder querer a los demas, piensa en tus hijos si te mueres quien va ver por ellos si no estas tu, No seas egoísta” me dijo
muy enojada. Le conteste “yo no soy egoísta”, ella se sonrió y me dijo “claro que si nunca piensas en ellos tu ya no te perteneces tu perteneces a tus hijos trabajas para ellos vives para ellos piensa si as vivido toda tu vida tratando de agradar a tu familia
y no lo as logrado no lo aras nunca. Mejor disfruta cada día de vida que tienes y disfruta a tus hijos y deja de llorar y deja de culparte” dijo mi amiga, entonces me di cuenta que tenia razón.
Fui a la Iglesia y el pastor predico diciendo “usted tal vez vino hoy con el corazón roto y pensando ¿que ase en este mundo? alo mejor le han dicho que no sirve para nada.
No les crea usted vale mucho porque Dios le ama y usted es hermosa porque Dios lo a hecho a su imagen y semejanza de el, somos sus hijos” dijo el pastor “además y si tiene problemas y a pensado asta quitarse la vida !No lo haga! El problema no es mas grande que Dios nunca. DIOS es mas grande que el problema” dijo el pastor. Desde que escuche eso me di cuenta que era verdad y ahora amo la vida y estoy feliz de ser mujer. Dios me bendijo con 4 hermosos hijos y es una bendición decir que soy madre, hoy mas que nunca me amo y amo a mis hijos, también a mis hermanos. Ya no lloro como antes porque se que los amo y si ellos no sienten lo miso yo no los puedo cambiar, yo se que Dios me ama. Mi deseo es que las personas que están pasando por problemas se lo dejen a Dios y que se amen y se acepten tal y como son, porque todos somos hijos de Dios, blancos, negros, altos y bajos, gordos o flacos el nos ama.


Ingles Sigue/English Follows

April 30, 2012

My name is Ingrid de leon
Mother, daughter and sister, aunt, niece
Surviving on the injustices and
The suffering of life for the act of being a woman.

I remember as girl getting kicked, slapped, and screamed at,
A rope hitting me in the back. A rod broke in my shins while screaming loudly at me: "I'm not your father, dumb ass, to provide for you!"
My parents dressed me well, I can say, always wore leather shoes and socks to protect my feet, my health being very delicate ... everything was fine when my father was alive.

But the suffering began when my father died.

The abuse increased every day more and more from jealousy of my brother because he thought I was my father’s favorite—all my brothers wore plastic shoes and rubber boots.
I wanted to get out of my poverty. Wanting to do something on my own I went to the capital of Guatemala City and was glad for the work I had found. I did house cleaning, cooking, and I lived in a house that was ‘tranquil'.

Until I was exposed to the worst thing in life...who would have thought that being in this house would put me in danger? But sometimes the house becomes a cage and you can not escape for being a woman. An older man violated me, raped me as if I were an animal. He tied my hands and covered my mouth. From that day I cried for being born a woman and for being poor. I had to leave that house. The news didn’t leave the house for fear that someone would do more damage to me. It was horrible to feel like used toilet paper and get thrown away in the trash for being used.

I cried and told myself I should not have been born and that it no longer made sense to stay alive. I thought it would have been better to have no soul or heart to not feel pain or guilt for being a woman. I needed to vent and say what tormented me, but was ashamed of what people would say. I did not dare say anything. If I would have told my mother, what will she think of me? That was the question in my heart every day.

After a while, I married a man older than me, thinking I would be treated better, but I was wrong. The abuse was more than when my father passed away. I suffered because I was abused by my husband (now ex) and later he would say, "With God there is no divorce.”

I returned to my mother’s home and things got worse, for I was no longer alone. According to my culture, women lose their value when they have children without a husband. We are only worthy and deserve respect from people if we have a man at our side. So I cried for the fact that I was a woman without value, without future. I didn’t know what to do. I would just grow angrier at myself. I did not want to be me. I would get more angry for not having a choice of being born. Every day I renounced life, not only because of that but because my sister always made me look bad in front of my mom, telling her lies about me. It hurt because it seemed as though nobody loved me. I started beating myself every day more and more. I wanted to cut my body up, take my heart out and show my family and the people that I was not bad person. I would bite my arms, tear my hair, and many other things I did to myself.

I came to this country. Thank God no coyote hurt me, nothing bad happened to me at the hands of the coyote. Arriving in this country I smiled, I thought I had escaped from so much evil and began to feel free and happy. I started loving myself as a woman. I could work and I could decide what to do with my money.

But one morning, the bad things began to happen in my life, it became such a torment that I often thought of jumping off the bridge or throwing myself under a car.
Many times I asked God to get me sick so my family would love me, but nothing happened. I hated myself more and more, at this time when I looked in a mirror I would get angry and beat myself saying "Ingrid, why were you born, stupid! no one loves you.” I would say this crying. I thought I was a bad person, especially here in the US.

One day someone told me angrily, "You have to love yourself to love others, think of your children. If you die, who will look after your children if its not you? Don’t be selfish." I answered, "I am not selfish." She smiled and said, "Clearly, you never think about your children, you do not belong to yourself. You belong to your kids. Work for them, and all your life work trying to please your family to no avail—you will never please them. Better enjoy every day of life and enjoy your children and stop blaming and mourning.” I realized that she was right.

I went to the church and the pastor preached, "You may come today with a broken heart thinking, what good is this world? Maybe they have told you, you are no good.
Do not believe them, because you are worth a lot. God loves you and you are beautiful because God has made you in his own likeness. You are his children." The pastor said, "If you have had problems and are thinking of suicide, do not do it! The problem is not ever bigger than God. God is bigger than the problem." Since I heard that, I realized it was true and now I love life and am happy to be a woman. God blessed me with 4 beautiful children and the blessing to be a mother. Now more than ever I love and I love my children—my brothers also. I do not cry like before because I love them and if they do not feel the commitment to love me I can not change me. I know God loves me. My hope is that people who are experiencing problems leave their faith to God and to love and accept each other as we are, because we are all God's children: black, white, tall, short, fat or thin, He loves us.
 

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PNN-TV: Richmond (CalifasAztlan) Represents n Resists!

09/24/2021 - 09:05 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
Tiny
Original Body

PNN-TV had the blessing of being a small part of this powerful day of health, resistance, healing and medicine in the city of Richmond, CalifasAztlan.

Often times people only see violence and struggle associated with our communities of color across the US and when we create power and self-determined resistance, no-one sees or hears us.

Gratitude to all of the poverty, migrant, indigenous, elder and youth scholars and heroes who "brought" it at the Latina Health Center Fair on April 28, 2012. Si se Puede- All power to the people!

Disclaimer- PoorNewsNetwork's camera failed in the middle of Yenny's beautiful interview but then again, we PNN - not CNN people!

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Don't Look Now, It's Al Robles

09/24/2021 - 09:05 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
Tiny
Original Body

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Editor's note: May 2nd 2012 marks the third anniversary of the passing of the poet Al Robles. Uncle Al was a board member of POOR Magazine and my uncle, mentor and spiritual father.  We honor him by featuring the following poem from poet Pete Yamamoto's newly published collection of poems entitled, "Journey" Poems by Peter Kenichi Yamamoto.  The collection is dedicated to his close friend Al Robles.  Pete Yamamoto is a former tenant of the I-Hotel, whose new collection of poems give honor to elders, people in struggle and those who fight for social justice)

 

 

Grey hair pulled to a short ponytail.

High forehead and a tan face.

Mustache and a wispy grey beard.

You are wearing hiking boots.

 

Flamboyant Hawaiian shirt of many colors.

Blue denim vest with many pockets.

Your glasses framing wide eyes.

Your hands pointing, fingers relaxing.

 

Your mouth slightly open.

A  straight back on a smallish frame.

Yet healthy and able to run after a fleeing bus.

Your thirty five pound backpack filled with notebooks and free lunches.

 

Al is talking.

Talking.

About everything.

And nothing.

 

Al is pointing.

And he is saying:

"It's gonna be O.K., now!...."

Al dodges and throws a few low punches like a flyweight Filipino

fighter.

 

Then slaps your hands and arms and shoulders.

Grabs you in a "Brothers" handshake and says

"Porget i-it!!", and

"Are you CRAZY?!!!" "Are you KIDDING me?!!!"

 

The sun goes down after a hot day.

Al still has energy, his body doesn't stand tired.

He has power in his bent-legged stance.'

The inner "Ki" power of Zen.

 

Then raises his chin and says:

"Hey man!"

And shrugs his backpack farther up his shoulder.

The roosters square off ready for the cockfight.

 

I am laughing at this sensitive non-ego man.

This humble yet strong guy who asks:

"Hab you had your breakFUST yet?"

And looks earnestly and interestedly into your eyes.

 

Then:  "Far out!!!!"

And as you are leaving:  "Love you brother!!!!"

And embraces you.

Al, leave me alone, you're killing me!!!

 

The sun has been down for a long time.

It is dark.

Talking about grains of rice and Asian people.

Pretty girls, and poetry, and imagination.....

 

"Come to me my melancholy ba-aby!!"

You just came from somewhere.

When you leave you will go to somewhere.

And now you are here rapping with ME!!!

 

rappin' carabao in the dark.

Dancing among the caribou.

A throaty breathy shafty shakuhachi.

The clear tones of Kulintang.

 

Sorria can't cook enough rice and adobo.

Manong Freddy can't pick banjo fast enough.

Ayson cannot smile weakly and simply enough.

Primo has just kissed Geraldine in lieu of payment for lunch.

 

I'm getting drunk offa one single beer,

Diones is yelling about "shit-disturbers"

Sorro is clucking his tongue in his cheek.

Your daughter, Okashi, smiles for you that bright, wide smile of hers.

 

Your poem about Nisei who went through concentration camps.

Your admiration for Carlos Bulosan.

The new I-Hotel is a sweet victory for the people.

My eyes fill with tears again and again.

 

 

(c) Pete Yamamoto May 24, 2009

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TURF Stopping BIG Tobacco

09/24/2021 - 09:05 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
mari
Original Body

With tobacco there is terrible withdrawal, it is almost impossible for a lot of people. I did, I went cold turkey, they never had any patches in those days but grass was not difficult, alcohol not difficult, but tobacco – OH MY GOD” – Anonymous

Within my childhood home, four of my family members smoked and chewed
tobacco. I have a feeling they would have expressed similar struggles attempting to
quit using tobacco. As the oldest of six siblings and cousins residing in my twelve-
person household, the affects of second-hand smoke caused each of us health
related issues as we grew older. The youngest of the cousins seemed most severely
affected.

I was born and raised in the beautifully diverse city of San Francisco. As most
residents of San Francisco can attest to, this city suffers from many health issues as
a direct impact of alcohol, drugs, and tobacco usage. For as long as I can remember, I
was living with asthma; a respiratory disease that affects many children and adults,
particularly in dense cities like San Francisco.

Asthma ontinues to affect numerous youth living in low-income areas due to high
concentrations of tobacco smokers, especially in the Bay Area. Unfortunately my
asthma has gotten worse throughout the years I have been hospitalized on several
occasions as a result of second-hand smoke inhalation on my way home from school,
work, and even in my enclosed apartment building. If San Francisco City Officials
truly wanted everyone to have the opportunity of health equity, then a decrease in
the number of tobacco retailer outlets in San Francisco would be of top priority.

Tobacco companies aggressively campaign for worldwide distribution and
advertisement. Though my dad, aunt, and uncles brought their smoking habits from
the Philippines, they were unable to leave behind their addictive habit of tobacco
use once settling in the U.S. The tobacco industry often targets families like mine:
immigrant, low-income, and brown. Tobacco industries are known for targeting
youth like myself as well as people lacking resources to stand up to the tobacco
industry to fight against the deadly addiction of tobacco use. It was for this reason
that I made the decision to make change where I could. This is why I joined the
Tobacco Use Reduction Force (TURF).

TURF is a program through the Youth Leadership Institute (YLI) made up of eight
diverse youth advocates committed toward improving the health of San Francisco
residents, particularly those living in vulnerable communities, by crafting and
passing a tobacco policy. TURF’s first round pushing for a policy limiting tobacco
permits in San Francisco was in 2008 – 2010. As a team, our experiences taught
us crucial lessons that prepared for us for our second attempt of passing a tobacco
policy in San Francisco. My personal involvement began with YLI seven years ago
as a youth advocate. Through trainings and expert interviews, I overcame daily
challenges and developed skills that helped me become a leader.

As a youth advocate working on tobacco prevention for the past seven years, I have
seen few positive health changes in my community. Easy tobacco access is an issue

in low-income communities of color such as mine. Tobacco usage is still the most
preventable death, yet people continue to abuse their health when buying these
harmfully addictive products that will potentially deteriorate their health and the
health of others. “If you are addicted to smoking, purchasing tobacco products is
basically like buying your own death”, mentioned Jesus Sicairos, a member of the
TURF team.

As Jesus put it, people are essentially “purchasing their own death”, which has been
made possible with the excessive availability of tobacco outlets on just about every
street corner in some areas in the city. In an effort to restrict tobacco accessibility
and promote a healthier San Francisco, the TURF team will advocate for a citywide
policy.

We are currently drafting a policy that will reduce the number of tobacco stores in
communities most saturated and inundated by excessive tobacco retailer outlets.
We are striving to create uniformity for all San Francisco supervisorial districts.
Our policy will create sustainable change that will benefit residents, community
members, and youth striving for better health and access to clean air.

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Al Robles

09/24/2021 - 09:05 by Anonymous (not verified)
Original Author
Tiny
Original Body

This Carabao has gone home to the village

Come to me, my melancholy baby

Baguio Ifugao winds that blew away

YOUR POETRY breathing words

INTO SMITHEREENS OF CARABAO DUNG

kEARney Street manong

Manilatown Igorot

Ifugao Mountain traveler, Tagatac -seeker

Dancing and sucking between the juices

Somewhere between The fish head AND THE Ox-TAIL

LIES THE ANSWER.

BENEATH THE WInTER SNOW, maybe.

Or wait until the white snow melts in the spring,

about ten in the morning when dogs have deep thoughts.

 

The spirit that he celebrated lived in him throughout.

The spirit of the manong,

Of the giver, the helper, the survivor, the never sell-out, the dreamer, the provider, the visionary, the joie de vivre, the compassionate, the human.

The spirit of the manongs and the manangs, the manangs yes,

Particularly of that time

But eternal and universal at any time, any place…

Like you, my brother, even though now, you,

manilatown carabao have gone home to your village.

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