Story Archives 2013

POOR Magazine focuses on poverty in all aspects; recycling is one of them, because poor people often do recycling as a very low-wage job.

We at POOR Magazine know that there is an ongoing attack on poor people and poverty revolutionaries who teach, practice environmental activism such as recycling. I relate to this story because my brother was a tree sitter for years in Humboldt California. Most of them were there to protest against cutting the trees and building various things on the property as well as make money off of it. A lot of people consider nature as a part of their life. Some indigenous people lead us to connect with trees, fresh air, and just the sounds of nature that can make you appreciate life and love mother nature.

A book was published about trees and recycling and how one woman stayed in a tree for a couple of years. She was from Berkeley and she wrote a book about all the experiences she had dealing with survival in the face of pimp organizations trying to cut the trees and stop the process of recycling. Environmental activism deals with all aspects of life. Now elite organizations are starting to do the same things in Urban areas, but instead of trees, they are eliminating recycling centers.

The Safeway on Church and Market has issued an eviction notice to San Francisco Community Recyclers. People were saying the eviction was for two reasons. First widespread availability of curbside recycling makes the facility obsolete, and second the facility has a negative impact on customers who shop at this location. This sounds like discrimination coming from a person with malicious intentions. I think that shutting the recycling center down is another form of gentrification.

Ed Dunn the general manager of SF Community Recyclers, confirms that the Church and Market location has been ordered to leave by September and he feels the recycling center was forcibly closed. Since 1987 San Francisco Recycling Center Network has been anchored by recycling centers located on Safeway parking lots. According to protesters, the eviction violates the California Bottle Bill. That bill required that all supermarkets have a recycling center within a specified area around their stores, or else they and all nearby retailers must accept recycling drop offs in stores. Still, after this law was issued, rich people went against it because of the power that they have.

Basically this is not an environmental problem, it is an attack on homeless people, and people who live in low income facilities. It is just like Jack Spade and the rich buying out family owned businesses and putting up stores that are extremely expensive to shop at. What are people going to do? I think everyone needs to think about this question because obviously the elite find ways to run around the laws that are intended to help poor people, and nobody is stopping them.

Editor's Note:  Thanks to Angola 3 Newsletter for contributing this piece to PNN.

Well, the old man has decided to leave us! I am sure it was a very hard choice for him, who will I serve, the ancestors who have called me home, or humanity whom I love so much?

Old man was my term of endearment - it had to do with the age of everything - to do with his heart and soul. Herman "Hooks" Wallace was not a perfect human being, and like all men, he had faults and weaknesses, but he also had character! He could make me so mad that I wanted to rip his head off! Then he would melt my heart with a word, or act of kindness to another human being.

On October 1st, sitting in a hospital room with the other part of my heart (Robert H. King), I tried to will a miracle and it was granted, not the miracle of life that I wanted but the miracle of freedom!  After 42 years of tireless struggle against evil, he was a free man!

I wanted so badly to witness his walk to freedom, but it was not to be, I had to leave, but after losing my mother, sister and brother in law to cancer, I was at peace!

I had a chance to say goodbye to my comrade in the struggle, my mentor in life, my fellow panther and most of all, my friend. Herman taught me that a man can stumble, even fall, as long as he gets up. That it's OK to be afraid, but hold onto your courage. To lose battle, is not the loss of a war!

Herman Wallace's greatest pride was joining the Black Panther Party for self defense! He believed in duty, honor and dedication. He never broke the faith of the party, his comrades or the people. As I bent to kiss his forehead, my heart said goodbye - I love you forever - my soul said - separated but never apart - never touching, but always connected. He was the best of us, as long as we remember him, he lives on.

All Power to the People!

Albert "Shaka Cinque" Woodfox 

(Photos of banner and mural from North Carolina)

EDITOR'S WARNING: This article contains graphic content about sexual violence and is not appropriate for children.

As poverty scholars we write stories that relate to us, and others as well. I personally had a real horrifying experience when I was nineteen years old. I was religious and a man whom I had known for a long time manipulated me, and I did things that I didn’t want to do or felt uncomfortable doing. After I lost my virginity and was not married, the whole community of Muslims treated me so terrible. They called me Mary Magdalene, a ho, an adulterer, and a person who has committed a serious crime. Afterwards over the podium, the preacher announced that I had become promiscuous I lost my dignity. I left and never went back. The man who had sex with me was praised and honored for getting that far.

This is what women go through all over the world, whether it is rape, pimping, or using women for self-pleasure and not love. I was preyed on because this man saw an innocent Muslim girl who has lost purity and is therefore a detriment to mankind. I felt like they were my family more than my blood relatives, but they disowned me and kicked me to the curb. The most amazing thing I did was get help from a professional, and got sent to Saint Francis for psychiatric reasons.

I am telling this story on media for the first time in my life because I read a book called Half The Sky, and the women in the book have life stories that are worse than mine could ever be.  Rape can also mean being taken advantage of mentally. He raped my personal spirituality and my dignity.

I read about a village in Somalia that has a large number of rapes, and a doctor from another country actually wanted to open up a hospital and shelter for women in this village. Around eighty women get raped in this village every day. The doctor who established this awesome clinic made something called Rape-aXe, and it is inserted like a tampon except when the man rapes a woman it hurts him, and he can't take it off by himself - he has to go to the hospital emergency room. After reading that chapter it made me feel good that someone went through the same thing I did. Especially because the women are oppressed, not by religion but by man. And men use religion as a scapegoat to oppress women and make them feel unworthy for the rest of their life. Rape-aXe has helped even though in Somalia the women go through a lot. The doctor at this clinic has to pay off some men just to protect women who are at risk of getting killed. The women who have come to the clinic are not only raped but also humiliated, and physically tormented. Some women have acid on their face; others have body parts cut off and various other diseases like AIDS. Though the government does not like what this doctor is doing because women are not recognized as human beings in some countries, and they are looked at as objects and servants for men.

When someone rapes you it hurts two ways - physically and emotionally. Evidently the emotional part haunts you for the rest of your life. It is not fair that men use God to manipulate women. Half the Sky brought me joy, because I am so torn apart that I have never had a real relationship before and this happened when I was nineteen now I am twenty-nine. Stories like this have to be told and, creating rape-aXe is a revolutionary-minded action. It is not okay to abuse women, or demand women act a certain way because of how men feel. Now I follow inner peace and read a lot of inspirational books like this one. I learned about it in my diversity and sexism class at City College of San Francisco. As women we have to stand up and nourish ourselves by taking care of us first.

Friday, 11 October 2013           
Abahlali baseMjoindolo Press Statement

uMlazi Update

Our movement is growing in uMlazi. We are very strong in the eMhlabeni land occupation and the Silva City transit camp. On Friday last week three comrades were arrested on an uMlazi road blockade organized to demand (1) the release of Bandile Mdlalose and (2) that the City stops its repression and start negotiations with us on our demands given to them at the march on 16 September 2013. We are demanding democracy, not just voting but also, real democracy, everyday democracy, and an end to repression.

These three comrades were kept in the holding cells till Monday. On Monday morning some comrades went to the Durban Magistrates’ Court and others went to the court in uMlazi to support comrades in detention. Before the court was in session our members were singing outside, as is their right. The police came, threatened them, and said that if they were not be quiet they would know who to start with when the shooting started. They said that they would shoot two people. After this the people stopped singing. We have signed statements on the threat from the police to shoot two people.

When the case was called people began to enter the court building. They had to go through security, which means that it is certain that no one was armed. At the door of the court two security guards (Fidentia) started pushing people out and refusing to let them in. They were then attacked from behind by a group of police officers (between 7 and 10) who peppered sprayed them and shocked them. Amanda Nokobeni and Nyati Gcinithemba were pushed into a room. Amanda has made a signed statement to the police about what she saw. A security guard took out a small black gun. He fired two shots. The first shot
hit his own hand. The second shot hit Nyathi in the chest, on the left side near his heart. The police officers then pushed him to the floor, beat him, tied his hands and continued to beat him. This was also witnessed by one of our members, Emmanuel Mangcoba. He has made a signed statement to the police
that he looked through a window and saw Nyathi being beaten while his hands were tied.  Nyathi said he needed to go to hospital. This was refused. An off-duty paramedic wanted to help but was not allowed too. At first Nyathi was trying to sing while the beating continued.  But he lost a lot of blood and
stopped talking and his eyes closed. We then rushed to report this attempted murder to our lawyer, Shabna Palesa Mohamed and to Pastor Ngubane. The police forced everyone to leave the court and wouldn’t allow anyone to see Nyathi. More police came with helmets, tear gas, rubber bullets etc and forced the comrades to leave the area outside of the court. Naythi was taken to hospital where he was kept under police guards as if was a dangerous criminal. He was charged with assault. As far as we know none of the police officers who assaulted Nyathi have been arrested and the security guard who shot him has not been arrested either.

As usual the media reported the very violent and near fatal police attack on us as ‘a violent protest’. It is becoming clear that some of the media will always consider any protest during which poor people are violently attacked by the police (or the Land Invasions Unit or private security guards) to be ‘a violent protest’ even when the only violence comes from the police. They take our suffering as normal and they take state violence as normal. At the same time they take our demand that our dignity must be recognised as violent and criminal. We are supposed to remain in silence in our dark corners. It is unacceptable that peaceful protests in which no person is harmed are continually described as ‘violent’ protests in the media when they include road blockades or when the police attack them. It is unacceptable
that violence by the police, private security and the Land Invasions Unit, is often not described as violent but presented as normal and necessary.

The prosecution failed to be bring a docket to the court for the case against Themba Msomi, Thembeka Sondaba & Fikiswa Mgoduka and so they were sent back to the holding cells without the bail application being heard.

Nyathi was released on Tuesday. He still has the bullet in his chest.

Themba, Thembeka and Fikiswa were only released on Wednesday. They were released on free bail. They have sign in to the police station each week.

As repression gets worse and we are treated like animals in a slaughterhouse more and more people who are supposed to be part of the system of repression are breaking ranks. Some ANC members are supporting our protests. Anyone with eyes to see can see that the politicians have lied to the people and will continue to lie to the people and that our cause is just.

We note that some middle class resident’s associations are calling for the Tactical Response Team of the SAPS and the army to replace the Public Order Policing Unit. Their local newspapers are saying that ‘the city is under siege’. We are asking the middle classes to please note that three housing activists have been killed this year and that three others have been shot. We are asking the middle classes to note that no one has been arrested for these murders and shootings even when witnesses have publicly stated the names of the murders and shooters. We have killed no one and we have shot no one. We are asking the middle classes to please note that large numbers of people have been illegally evicted from their homes and arrested on trumped up charges. Many of those who have been arrested have been assaulted in custody. We have driven no one from their home and we have detained no-one against their will.  We are not the threat to this society. The threat is coming from a corrupt and violent political class that is using public housing for its own enrichment rather than for the public good.

Everyone knows how corrupt the City is. This affects the middle classes too. The time to stop corruption is now. The time is coming when the violence against the poor will start to affect the middle classes too. On Wednesday a middle class man was shot at while driving by a blue light cavalcade. The
politicians are becoming a threat to everyone. The time to stop state violence is now.

Poor people across this city have given notice that we will no longer accept to live in shacks with no refuse removal, no toilets, no paths, no drains and regular fires. We have given notice that we will not accept transit camps. We have given notice that we will not accept re-ruralization via forced removals
to human dumping grounds. We have given notice that we will no longer accept corruption, lies and repression.

We stand for an inclusive city, a democratic city, and a city for all. The Municipality stands for corruption and violence. They want to intimidate us into accepting oppression instead of negotiating a better way forward. If the middle classes join the Municipality in supporting the campaign of violent intimidation, and even murder, against us, the democracy that is left will be destroyed for everyone. If they join with us and stand for an end to corruption, for an end to lies and for a city that respects the dignity of all
who live in it, a shared city, a just city, then democracy can be deepened. That is the choice that the middle classes must make.

We have made our choice. Across the city the message from our branches is the same. There is no turning back.

For comment and updates please contact:

Mnikelo Ndabankulu (Abahlali baseMjondolo Spokesperson) 081 263 3462
Khayelihle Magcaba (Abahlali baseMjondolo uMlazi) 073 873 0636

Viernes, 11 de octubre del 2013

Base Abahlali de Mjoindolo, Comunicado de prensa

Umlazi actualización

Nuestro movimiento está creciendo en Umlazi . Somos muy fuertes en la ocupación de tierras eMhlabeni y el campo de tránsito, City Silva. El viernes de la semana pasada tres compañeros fueron detenidos en un corte de ruta Umlazi organizado para exigir ( 1 ) la liberación de Bandile Mdlalose y ( 2 ) que el Ayuntamiento deja su represión y las negociaciones iniciales con nosotros en nuestras demandas que se les da en la marcha el 16 de septiembre de 2013. Estamos exigiendo la democracia, no sólo votar, sino también, la verdadera democracia, la democracia cotidiana  y poner fin a la represión.

Estos tres compañeros se mantuvieron en los calabozos hasta el lunes. El lunes por la mañana algunos compañeros fueron a la Corte de Magistrados de Durban y otros fueron a la corte en Umlazi para apoyar a compañeros detenidos. Antes de que el tribunal estaba reunido nuestros miembros estaban cantando afuera, como es su derecho. Vino la policía los amenazó y les dijo que si no se callaban sabrían que les iba a pasar y es cuando comenzó el tiroteo. Dijeron que iban a disparar a dos personas. Después de esto la gente dejó de cantar. Hemos firmado declaraciones sobre la amenaza de la policía de disparar a dos personas.

Cuando el caso empezó la gente comenzó a entrar en el edificio tribunal . Tuvieron que pasar por la seguridad, lo que significa que nadie estaba armado. En la puerta del tribunal dos guardias de seguridad (Fidentia) comenzó a empujar a la gente y nego a dejarlos entrar. Luego fueron atacados por la espalda por un grupo de policías (entre 7 y 10), que les rocía pimienta y les sorprendió. Amanda Nokobeni y Nyathi Gcinithemba fueron empujados a una habitación. Amanda ha hecho una declaración firmada con la policía sobre lo que vio. Un guardia de seguridad sacó una pequeña pistola de negro. Disparó dos tiros. El primer disparo golpeó su propio puño. El segundo disparo alcanzó Nyathi en el pecho, en el lado izquierdo cerca de su corazón. Los agentes de la policía y luego lo tiraron al suelo, le golpearon, le ataron las manos y continuaron golpeándolo. Esto también fue presenciado por uno de nuestros miembros, Emmanuel Mangcoba . Él ha hecho una declaración firmada a la policía que se veía por la ventana y vio Nyathi siendo golpeado mientras tenía las manos atadas . Nyathi dijo que tenía que ir al hospital. Esto fue rechazado. Un paramédico fuera de servicio quería ayudar, pero no se le permitió también. Al principio Nyathi estaba trató de cantar mientras la paliza continuó. Sin embargo, perdió mucha sangre y dejo de hablar y permaneció con los ojos cerrados. A continuación, se apresuraron a informar de este intento de asesinato a nuestro abogado, Shabna Palesa Mohamed y Pastor Ngubane . La policía obligó a todos a salir de la cancha y no iba a permitir que nadie vea Nyathi . Más policías llegaron con cascos, gas lacrimógeno, balas de goma, etc y obligó a los compañeros a abandonar el área fuera de la cancha. Naythi fue llevado al hospital donde se le mantuvo bajo guardias de la policía como si fuera un criminal peligroso. Fue acusado de asalto. Por lo que ninguno de los policías que agredieron Nyathi han sido arrestados y el guardia de seguridad que le disparó no ha sido detenido.

Como de costumbre, los medios de comunicación informaron que el ataque policial fatal muy violento y cerca de nosotros como ' una protesta violenta.’  Cada vez es más claro que los medios de comunicación nunca tendrá en cuenta las manifestaciones de los pobres cuando son atacados violentamente por la policía (o la unidad de invasiones de tierras o de guardias de seguridad privada) de ser ‘una protesta violenta,’ aun cuando la única violencia viene de la policía. Toman nuestro sufrimiento y la violencia estatal como normal. Toman nuestra exigencia de dignidad como ser violento y criminal. Se supone que debemos permanecer en silencio en los rincones obscuros. Es inaceptable que las protestas pacíficas, en las que ninguna persona se vea perjudicada, sean continuamente descritas como "violentos" en los medios de comunicación, cuando incluyen bloqueos de caminos o cuando los atacan a la policía. Es inaceptable que la violencia de la policía, la seguridad privada, y la unidad de invasiones de tierras, se presenta como normal y necesaria y no se describe como violenta.

La fiscalía no pudo llevar un expediente al tribunal de la causa contra Themba Msomi, Thembeka Sondaba, y Fikiswa Mgoduka, por lo cual fueron enviados de nuevo a las celdas de detención sin permiso a fianza.

Nyathi fue liberado el martes. Él todavía tiene la bala en el pecho.

Themba, Thembeka, y Fikiswa eran liberado los miércoles. Fueron puestos en libertad bajo fianza gratis. Ellos tienen que presenciarse en la estación de policía cada semana.

Como la represión empeora y nos tratan como animales en un matadero, más, y más personas que se supone que son parte del sistema de represión están rompiendo filas. Algunos miembros del ANC están apoyando nuestras protestas. Cualquiera que tenga ojos para ver, puede ver que los políticos han mentido al pueblo y seguirán mintiendole a la gente y nuestra causa es justa .

Tomamos nota de que algunas asociaciones de residentes de clase media están pidiendo que el Equipo de Respuesta Táctica de la SAPS y el ejército para sustituir la unidad de Policía de Orden Público. Sus periódicos locales dicen que la ciudad está en estado de citio. Estamos pidiendo a las clases medias que reconozcan que tres activistas de vivienda han sido asesinados este año y que otros tres se han desaparecido. Pedimos a las clases medias que reconozcan que nadie ha sido arrestado por los asesinatos y tiroteos, incluso cuando los testigos han declarado públicamente los nombres de los asesinos. Nosotros no hemos matado a nadie ni hemos disparado a nadie. Estamos pidiendo a las clases medias que reconozca el un gran número de personas que ha sido desalojada ilegalmente de sus casas y arrestadas bajo cargos falsos. Muchos de los que han sido arrestados han sido asaltados en custodia. Nosotros no hemos echado a nadie de su casa y no hemos detenido a nadie en contra de su voluntad. No somos amenaza a esta sociedad. La amenaza proviene de una clase política corrupta y violenta que está utilizando la vivienda pública para su propio enriquecimiento y no para el bien público.

Todo el mundo sabe lo corrupto que está la Ciudad. Esto afecta a las clases medias también. El tiempo de parar la corrupción es hoy. Está llegando el tiempo cuando la violencia contra los pobres comenzará a afectar a las clases medias también. El miércoles pasado un hombre de clase media fue valiado mientras conducía por una cabalgata de luz azul. La los políticos se están convirtiendo en una amenaza para todos. El tiempo para detener la violencia del Estado es ahora.

La gente pobre a través de esta ciudad se han dado cuenta de que ya no podremos aceptar vivir en chozas sin basureros, sin baños, sin caminos, sin desagües y los incendios son regulares. Ya no vamos a aceptar los campamentos de tránsito. No vamos a aceptar la re - ruralización mediante traslados forzosos

a vertederos humanos. Nos hemos dado cuenta de que ya no podremos aceptar la corrupción, las mentiras y la represión.

Estamos a favor de una ciudad inclusiva, una ciudad democrática, una ciudad para todos. El municipio se destaca por la corrupción y la violencia. Nos quieren intimidar con la opresión en lugar de negociar un mejor camino. Si las clases medias se unen al Municipio en apoyar la campaña de intimidación, violencia, incluso el asesinato en contra de la democracia, todo será destruido para todos. Si se unen con nosotros y se destacan por el fin de la corrupción, que se ponga fin a las mentiras y se de una ciudad que respete la dignidad de todos que viven en ella, una ciudad compartida, una ciudad justa, entonces la democracia se puede profundizar. Esa es la elección que las clases medias tienen que hacer.

Hemos hecho nuestra elección. Al otro lado de la ciudad el mensaje de nuestras sucursales es el mismo. No hay vuelta atrás.

Para comentarios y actualizaciones, por favor comuníquese con:

Mnikelo Ndabankulu (Portavoz de Base Abahlali Mjondolo) 081 263 3462

Khayelihle Magcaba (Base Abahlali Mjondolo Umlazi) 073 873 0636

Ms. Carolyn Smith, my grandma, was a community activist and played many roles and wore many hats, but I am just going to talk about the ones she bragged about the most.    

First she was on the board of the city college of New York alumni association where her position was considered the president of the organization. Nowhere in any other undergraduate college are there so many opportunities to work with seniors who have graduated and accomplished a lot. There were at least three hundred graduates that shadowed people like my grandma. The director of the alumni association expressed that grandma stood up for her beliefs, in spite of dissent from others. She wasn’t just a part of the alumni, she was an advocate for the African American graduates as well.

Grandma was also a participant and advocate for Aging in America. In 1977 Aging in America was created to serve as the parent company for Morningside House and other services being provided to the community. Today Aging in America oversees five subsidiaries with the common mission of devoting time, resources and skills to those who need it most in neighborhoods of the Bronx, Westchester, Rockland and Long island.  She was a dedicated staff of Aging In America. She took a leading role in finding solutions and serving the needs of the seniors. The director of the organization said that Carolyn Smith focused on self-esteem and self-reliance and enhancing each person’s sense of freedom and dignity. He explained that grandma was a soft shoulder to lean on for every client and staff. Everything he said absolutely confirmed how I remember my grandma. Whenever I called her she would write her TTD list, meaning things to do. Her first priority was working with seniors, and I would laugh because she yelled at some of them for peeing on themselves without saying anything. I would talk to her for hours and all she did was tell people what to do. She was also a part of JPAC/JASA the institute for senior action, which is a comprehensive education, leadership, and advocacy program.   

I write for a non-profit organization called Poor Magazine. We do not study linguistics, syntax, or any other standardized writing. We call our classes the people school, because it is by the people, for the people, led by the people. I’m not talking about Ivy League college graduates. I am talking about people from the streets, the shelters, the churches, and various other revolutionary minded people who are willing to struggle with poverty, yet embrace writing as a tool. I have terrible grammar at times but my words are powerful, and my experience is strong. That is what journalism really is: the person, the environment, and the truth. As I’ve grown in this grassroots organization, I’ve often thought about my grandma who has transitioned, but yet is still in my heart. My grandma was the first one who told me how to write, and how to write with passion, intelligence, and humility. My Uncle, whom I love, transitioned after her and they are not only going to have a memorial at Columbia University but they are being put on our website as poverty heroes. Poverty Heroes is a project coordinated by Lisa Garcia Dee Gray and Tony Moore. It is a ten week project created for honoring the lives of youth, adults and elders who have struggled, resisted, and lived through poverty, racism, disability, criminalization and violence locally and globally.

    In the nineties I went to New York every summer, and grandma basically sacrificed every penny she ever had to make us happy. She would always write letters to organizations, the mayor, and various people with whom she either got upset or embraced as an associate in the community. It’s no coincidence that when I started writing for this magazine I was so stressed out about this article because I didn’t know what to say or do. I decided to let the spirit lead me from my heart and not try to please everyone by sugarcoating my grandma’s experience in life. Every person I interviewed about Carolyn Smith was devastated about her passing, and described her as as a natural teacher and a natural leader.

After I spoke to these people, I reflected on our “elephant meetings” at Poor Magazine. Elephant meetings got their name from the African belief that elephants represent the women as matriarchs. Poor magazine was founded by a black woman called Momma Dee, and she was the matriarch of the organization. The last time I saw my grandma in 2011 she pulled me to the side and said, “I’m the matriarch of the family, and you have to stay strong for the family because I will not be around forever.” The metaphor of the elephant meetings spiritually coincides with what my grandma is and was.

    My Uncle Raymondloyd transitioned a week prior to my grandma. Before this happened I started to write and bond with Uncle Ray because he was so proud of me for finishing my bachelor’s degree. He cried with empathy for all the tough times I told him about. He listened to my experiences about being a young teenager growing up Muslim, and having hardships with family members who held grudges against me. From the time I was a young age, he always said good words to me no matter how sassy I was. When I would get in trouble, I remember him taking me to the side to say, “You can do whatever you want at my house.”

What I remember most of my two beloved family members is their endurance and perseverance. Uncle Raymondloyd was a twenty-six year old veteran of the United States Army, serving Southwest Asia, who left to serve in the Gulf War on Thanksgiving day 1985. He was a medic, with 865th combat support Hospital. He ended his career in 2002 as a first sergeant. Raymond worked as an LPN from 1994 to 2010 at Erie County Medical Center and another six years in a similar facility. He was with my beautiful and loving Aunt Rita Bennett. They raised my cousins Nathaniel Bennett, Sammy Bennett, Trevor Bennett, and Gideon Bennett. I’m sure they had tough times but their family was special because they had such strong bonds and they grew up being bi-racial. Regardless of any circumstances my Uncle was always there to listen and provide for his handsome sons (yes, our family members look damn good!). I know for a fact that my Uncle was so proud of his sons, and he adopted the whole community. Everyone went to him for advice and comfort or just a laugh because he had such a good sense of humor.

Recently I reconnected with my cousin Nate and hope to re-connect with my other cousins Trevor and Sammy. I am reminded that blood is thicker than water. Nate, Sammy, and Trevor are not victims of the stereotypical complex that they say about young black men. They all are beautiful in spirit and they represent what young black men should be. I love my Uncle and Grandma but their transitions have helped me and my cousins come back together. When I was little, I always wanted a big family. Another Uncle, Wendell, always said “We will do with the family we do have babe.”

In memory of these two magnificent people: whenever you wake up in the morning, know that my Uncle and Grandma are watching all of us, family and friends as well, and they transitioned with humble spirits. All I know is they left painless and happy. God Bless the Bennetts for their strength and thank God for Uncle Ray and Uncle Wendell because without their help life would’ve been harder for my grandma. I sincerely believe through this extremely hard time for the family both Raymondlloyd and Carolyn would want us to connect and grow through our differences and mistakes in the past. I think they would want us to be non-judgemental and sincere with each other. We should make a call log list and tell one another at least once a week, “I love you and you are family.”

I never cared about family all during high school (except for Nate - I always wrote to him). I considered my associates more of family than my own. I didn’t take value in what God had put in my life. When I turned twenty-one, my best friend died and people hurt me really bad in the community. White people do not have to do anything anymore in low income communities, because usually your own people will turn on you and kick you when you’re down. After this, the only people I could turn to were grandma, daddy, Uncle Wendell, my mom, stepfather, and of course now my cousins. Through this tough time with slander in the community, I was involved in a lot of organizations in the projects, homeless shelters, library, and even wrote for a local black newspaper. At the age of fourteen I was never home, not even for dinner.  When I called my twin (Veronica Smith) for the first time recently, I started to actually get to know little things that I never even knew before. For example, my sister’s best friend recently told me that dishes were the best of what my dad made for dinner every night.

    Despite all of this, I learned that family is something genuine, and that family must stick together regardless. I now go to a church with no walls. No building but just living in the spirit. Walls can mean anything: financial burdens, family feuds, low self-esteem. Most of all we put up walls so we wont get hurt from anyone. Even with these issues, the intervention that God helped me realize is that He already gave me my friends, He already gave me hope, and He already gave me faith. Instead of hanging out with other people I discovered God gave me a gift, which was my family. I do feel bad for having a nasty attitude with grandma when I was seventeen, but we talked about it long before she transitioned. I’m so happy that my cousins are holding up (not on their own, the Lord is carrying them through this meaningful storm.) This is just my healing of getting close to family and not other people. But I do believe that everything happens for a reason and my grandma and uncle are the light at the end of that tunnel. Through them everyone will grow and realize the beauty of life and the foundation they put down for us. I thank God everyday for my family, because we have unconditional love. At least that’s how its supposed to be.

On Mission Street the

Lime

Papaya

Banana

Jicama

Mango

Pomegranate

Cantaloupe

And watermelon are real

Apples don’t have buttons and screens

And switches and pushpads

They are just apples

With seeds

And skin and core

And there is a grocery

Store named in honor of

The apple called “Apple Grocery”

Where unadulterated, unbitten

Apples lie in the cradle of crates

Before seeing the

Mission Street sun

And a short

Distance from the market

A woman sits at the bus stop

I get off the #16 bus

Through the rear door

And come upon her face

In the apple moist air

She must have been

In her late 60’s, early

70’s

She held a straw hat,

Shielding her head

From the sun

She was beautiful

And I imagined her

As a young woman

The red life in her lips

Sung out as her eyes

Looked through a pair

Of sunglasses

I crossed the street

Knowing that at one

Time she could have stopped

The flow of both human and

non-human traffic

And she knew what I was

Thinking and she knew

That I knew that she

Knew and we kept it to

Ourselves

And the apples

Knew

© 2013 Tony Robles

a guy with a

gray afro was

on the #14 bus

this morning

plowing through

the mission where

I first learned my ABC's

A=Asian

B=Black

C=Chicano

and on this bus

going though the neighborhood

it seems like our ABC's are

like those wooden blocks that

we played with as kids that would

eventually get knocked over

and the man with the

gray bumpy afro that

had once been smooth,

sits and watches the world

pass by the window

and another man, a brother,

calls out to him:

say man, that's a nice afro,

looks like the Jackson 5

and the man sings out

ABC, Easy as

1-2-3

and the guy with

the gray afro

sings out

it's simple as

do-re-me

and they kept

singing and the bus

kept moving like a

fish to the smell of water

and when the man

with the gray afro

finished singing the

last line, the other man

said, ok, you got to get

up and spin

and the man with the

gray afro turned slightly

and said

man, I ain't doin' all that now

he turned and

looked ahead with

a half smile

Afro still bumpy

just like the

ride

'(c) 2013 Tony Robles

Would you

Bite into a watermelon

Without seeds?

Munch on an ear of corn

Without taste?

Suckle the bittersweet juice from

           a pomegranate

The size of a baby’s skull?

Chew on a tomato

Grown with fish genes?

Eat bread made with wheat

That can withstand heavy

Clouds of insecticidal mist?

Cook a meal with spicy chili peppers

That can make

Their own herbicide?

A loaded gun

Is no longer required

Simply to play

Russian Roulette with

Your own body.

The game can

Now be played

Much slower

When feasting on

The cisgenic harvest.

Keeping hunger away-----

Original intent-----

Perhaps an excuse-----

By scientists.

The poor are left

To take that gamble.

White rats

In a cage

Took a chance

On a potato

They were fed for dinner.

Liver failure

Weakened immunity:

What they’d gotten

In return.

Will these

Be the effects that

Mistakes of science

Corruptions of nature

Have on us?

A loaded gun

Is no longer required

Simply to play

Russian Roulette with

Your own body.

The game can

Now be played

Much slower

When feasting on

The cisgenic harvest.

I wouldn’t take

Such a chance.

Would you?

[ For Nita B., Miguel Robles,

Rachel Parent & Tami Canal. ]

Original Artwork by Jose Villarreal

Editors Note: Jose is one of several power-FUL PNN Plantation prison correspondents who was involved in the Hunger Strike to end all solitary confinement and the in-human treatment of all of our incarcerated brothers and sisters.

This round of strikes has been suspended and prisoners are now able to regain strength in these torture chambers. Our efforts are only just beginning in the realm of prison activism.

            As of 9-15-13, the 2013 hunger/work strikes were suspended. This was done no just to preserve humyn life but also because of the support we received and the efforts of some assembly people who see out struggle against torture as a just struggle and have decided to hold hearings on solitary. These efforts are good but we should know that our real victory will not come from state efforts, rather our victory will ultimately come from our own actions. History tells us that small reforms are possible from the California legislature but how we struggle and how we educate and harness the barrios and ghettos will determine where we really go with this prison movement for humyn rights.

            One of the things that the people should know is that despite state propaganda which paints us as bad people who are rehabilitating ourselves outside of state influence. Our greatest tool in rehabilitating ourselves and our fellow prisoners is in humyn rights activism. Some of us here have discovered that people are transformed once they are participants in class struggle; as humyn beings we cannot commit to a positive and selfless act – and denying one’s body nutrients is pretty selfless – with others in concert by the tens of thousands and not be transformed in some way. The upcoming legislative hearings are good but many remember that back in August of 2011 the California legislators held a hearing on SHU and again back in 2003 he same legislators held a hearing on SHU and validation and again there was no change to our torture. This of course helps to educate some of the public but these meetings will not resolve our oppression.

            As long as all those who are currently participating in the prison humyn rights movement understands that what were face ultimately in these SHUs is national oppression we will not be discouraged or demoralized by any lack of action in the upcoming legislative hearings. By us understanding that the highest levels of power are aware that 30,000+ prisoners went on hunger/work strike and don’t care, we will be determined to find ways to come together to find our own ways forward instead of getting caught in the ballot box trap of bourgeois politics.

            In my opinion the state is a terrorist entity which is not only ok with torturing mostly brown and black folks in these kamps but is attempting to build more of these torture centers, not just in California but throughout the US and around the world. These warehouses work to control first world lumpen which prisoners in the US mostly derive from. Chican@s are a major component of this class, particularly in the states that comprise Aztlan (the southwest).

            The torture being unleashed in California or US prisons for that matter should not be seen as an isolated event but as one portion of oppression that is unleashed by US imperialism globally. In many ways the Palestinians are suffering a brutal occupation by settlers just like chican@s and other internal nations within the US suffer. The SHU is merely a manifestation to the occupation of our land by an oppressor nation. Of course we must struggle against the SHU torture, humyn rights violations throughout the US prisons and lawsuits but our real aim is in obtaining national liberation.

            This down time when the imprisoned people are rejuvenating themselves and nourishing- as best as one can do in a dungeon- our bodies should also be a time when we educate, educate to propel the people! The essence of the beast we are up against should be well grasped by all involved in the humyn rights movement. We should reach a point that when the state slanders us in some way, even the least educated prisoner or people should immediately see this as the vile propaganda that it is! Ultimately we will not make real progress without arriving en mass to the anti-Imperialist front in shackles and all.

            Looking at any phenomenon we commonly know that ones strength is often ones weakness, but when it comes to prisoners we need to look at it the other way and that is that our challenges are also our strength. Our existence as tortured SHU prisoners who are isolated and locked in windowless cells are indeed challenges, these are grave challenges. But our draconian conditions teach us that our “life”, our reality cannot get worse but only ensures that we struggle to improve our conditions by any means. What’s more is those who are armed with political theory and a firm grasp of reality and what it means for the internal semi-colonies to live in Ameri-kkk-a, we have concrete examples to teach the imprisoned masses what national oppression looks like. Settlerism is not an abstract term in Pelican Bay study groups; we have living, breathing examples.

            In order to teach, one must first learn. Our downtime is being used to learn more on all different struggles against oppression around the world. We can learn plenty from other people similarly situated who resisted oppression, in prison and out. We should always attempt to build on our understanding of our reality as an oppressed nation, oppressed class or oppressed gender depending on who we are. Living in a capitalist society we can tie all of these forms of oppression to the relations to production in the society we live in. Poor folks are not expected to ever rise above this poverty because in order for some to be rich there must be a huge segment of poor folks in a society to exploit. These are class contradictions that must remain firmly in place in a capitalist society if this society plans to remain a capitalist society.

            The idea is with our suspended strike is to educate prisoners on who our oppressor is while educating people in society, our friends, family and pen pals as to what is behind our strikes and why their participation in future struggles are essential if we are to advance in our future efforts. Our suspended strike is “suspended” not just to better our health but while doing so bettering our understanding and our peoples understanding of our humyn rights activism in these torture chambers. Resting while studying and educating is what a “protected struggle” looks like in regards to ending SHU torture.

            When our future strikes proceed I hope to get more of my pen pals and outside supporters involved in these efforts. My plan is to get more people starting blogs, creating committees, showing up at marches and contacting their local political representative in support for our efforts to end SHU torture. Each one of us as prisoners have potential to tap our resources (community) on the outside. Some of us have support systems already existing and others must start from scratch, but we al have that potential. It’s important that we realize that each one of our outside supporters in turn has their own community of friends, family and support networks which hopefully with our time and persistence can also be brought to support our future strikes demanding humyn rights.

            I think the biggest lesson that must be learnt from this beautiful struggle is that this is the new normal. We can’t put the baby back in the womb and this is what petrifies the state the most. A new movement has been born in which tens of thousands of oppressed, marginalized and cast off people have been brought to struggle against the World Oppressor. But once more this is a new reality, a reality of struggle between poor prisoners and the arm of the state. Prison activism is a new normal, we have all been bitten by the revolutionary bug and we will never forget these efforts in our lifetime. What we did- both prisoner and outside activist is making history in mobilizing tens of thousands of prisoners in opposition to the super-parasite. Our mobilization has only begun and will continue onward and will spill out into the brown barrios and the black ghettos which will work to put our people’s back on a revolutionary path in our struggle for self-determination.

            FREE THE PEOPLE, FREE THE LAND!!!

            Jose H. Villareal PNN Pelican Bay Prison Correspondent

Another corporate takeover of the public streets of San Francisco took place this past weekend.  Out at Ocean Beach that multinational sneaker company that calls itself Nike decided to set up shop to put on an ad campaign in the name of fitness—this time women’s fitness.  Streets were blocked, parking spaces swooped up, Google style buses clogging streets and of course, the participants ran their race while the ravens looked on from the trees and wires above.  These events are like massive masquerade parties and you look and wonder what theme is it this time, what costumes are they wearing, what corporate logo will be affixed to the ass—of which there are multitudes.

So there they were, the followers and/or disciples of this worldwide sneaker company, pounding the pavement nice and early.  Some streets were blocked off and many residents were trapped because of the anointed sneaker race in progress.  I stood and watched the participants at the conclusion of the race—all very satisfied, smug and oblivious to the neighborhood trounced upon by the endless passels of sneakers.  A coyote from nearby Golden Gate Park walked over to me.

“What’s up blood?” asked the coyote.

“You know how it is” I answered.  “Another pain in the ass footrace”

“I hear you on that.  I was watchin’ the way some of ‘em was runnin’.  They was runnin’ like a coyote was chasin’ ‘em”

“Where you chasing them?”

“Hell no, today’s my day off.  But this whole Nike thing is old.  I heard some of these runners saying just do it.  What the hell does that mean?  It don’t mean nothing.  I mean, payless shoes should have done this event”

“I hear you”

“I mean, it kinda reminded me of that blue grass concert shit they did in the park a month or so ago.  Tons of people and I don’t know where the hell they came from.  Comin’ into my home with all that noise.  One of the owls came by and told me that Paul McCartney was playing and that I needed to go and check it out”

“Do you like Paul McCartney?”

“Hell no I don’t like him!  Singing all that silly love song bullshit.  He’s had more dye jobs than a Grateful Dead T-shirt.  He should have retired a long time ago along with Rod Stewart and Elton John and that punk ass KOIT s**t”

“Who do you like then?

“Tony Bennett…now there’s a singer”

“Yeah…that’s true”

“Alright, I’ll holler at you later.  I gotta get up outta here”

The coyote left and I headed to the bus stop.  A sea of people was there.  I had to get to a panel discussion that I was to facilitate at the SF Public Library.  With the crowd at the bus stop and the crowd one and two stops before mine, I knew that getting on a bus was a long shot.  Many cabs and google styled passenger busses whizzed by with people behind the tinted glass.  Where did they come from?

I stood at the stop with all those runners. In the distance I saw a bus.  I stood and hoped that the bus would stop close to me so I could be among the first to board.  The bus approached and the bus driver took mercy on me.  It was brother.  He stopped and the door was right there in front of me.  The only thing I needed was a red carpet.  For a native San Franciscan, this rarely happens—good luck on public transit.  I got on and others flooded in through the front and back doors.  It was the good ship Nike.  I moved my way towards the rear.  I made it to the middle.

I was the only man on the bus.  It was an army of nike women who—upon looking at them—I determined could likely do me some great physical harm, even with a coyote at my side.  A wide variety—some looked like they could have come from a pot club vacation while others looked like another version of the burning man.  My ears were flooded with the talk and voices of those providing recaps of the run, the strides, the human competition.  I noticed a sameness about them; perhaps they went to the same schools, listened to the same music, colonized the same neighborhoods, ate Thai and Ethiopian food regularly or wore the same running shoes.

One of them called out to another, “I’m going to have brunch, then there’s a quaint little place we can go to get a pint of Guinness”.  I looked at the folks who were, along with myself, packed in like anchovies.  A few wore cape-like things draped over their shoulders.  The material looked like aluminum foil.  It made me thing of the old jiffy pop popcorn that used to explode from the aluminum foil casing when placed on a stove.  I waited to hear a sound, a pop.  And I heard them popping off about the thousand dollar training camps that you can go to to prepare for these running events, about how foggy it is out at Ocean Beach and, of course, how things are different here in comparison to their hometowns.  One woman, sitting, who came to support a friend who was running said, “I didn’t run in the race”.  I looked at the woman and her bulky girth of foot race support and thought: YEAH, NO KIDDING

I finally got to my stop.  I felt good to be away from the corporate logos, corporate air, corporate water.  I got off the bus and walked to where I had to go.  Let the rest of them run back to where ever it is they came from.