Story Archives

by Kaponda

A sea of orange jumpsuits leaped for joy when the verdict of the marathon trial of O.J. Simpson was being read. My eyes were also fixed on the television during the final episode of that saga, along with the other predominantly black inmates incarcerated at San Bruno Jail. The black inmates who surrounded the television and exulted after hearing the verdict on that day in 1996, considered it an indictment on the Los Angeles Police Department. It exposed a tight-knight and thuggish mentality within the Los Angeles Police Department.

But the notorious Los Angeles Police Department and its RAMPART Division would be labeled as altar boys if compared to the Philadelphia Police Department. With a history of underhanded law enforcement methods and improper conduct, the Philadelphia Police Department has the dubious distinction of being the only law enforcement agency in America that has been investigated three times in a decade for corruption. The Federal Bureau of Investigation scrutinized the Philadelphia Police Department three time during the decade of 1980. These are some of the reasons that the disciple of John Africa and minister of confrontation for the MOVE organization, Pam Africa, expressed to me during an interview last winter that, “We are at war!”

A rally and march was held last Saturday, May 12, 2001, in support of a prisoner of war, Mumia Abu-Jamal. A swell of supporters of Abu-Jamal gathered at Dolores Park around 11:00 a.m., to help underwrite his legal representation and convey to the Pennsylvania judiciary a message of outrage at its blatant racist policies. The thousands of people of the multiracial crowd listened as the speakers at Dolores Park explained how Abu-Jamal became ensnared in the precarious predicament in which he has been placed. A three-year member of the Steering Committee to Free Mumia Abu-Jamal, Merle Woo, expressed to me that “We are here today to save a hero, a man whose only guilt is that he is for all of us -- the voice of the voiceless -- the disenfranchised. Millions are celebrating and demanding his full freedom all over the world, today. We are against censorship, and we are for free speech. We are here today to demand the freedom of Mumia Abu-Jamal, a political prisoner.”

The political prisoners in San Bruno Jail in California, where blacks make up only seven percent of the population but an astounding 50 percent of the California prison population, the political prisoners in the penitentiary located at 175 Progress Drive, where Abu-Jamal currently resides on death row, and those political prisoners throughout the industrial prison complex of America, were not physically at Dolores Park last Saturday. But like the clamorous voices of the inmates at San Bruno during the verdict of the O.J. Simpson trial, the unrestrained emotions in support of Mumia by prisoners, and especially black prisoners, were witnessed by guards of prisons.

The beat of the start of the march from Dolores Park to the Civic Center was provided by the San Francisco producer, activist and ragae artist, Pam Pam. Like an inflated balloon, the spirited crowd burst out of their tranquillity as they bounced west on 19th Street, bellowing chants that resonated from the halls of City Hall in San Francisco, through the airwaves of radio transmission into the halls of the Pennsylvania courts where, on May 4, 2001, the legal team of Abu-Jamal filed new evidence in the federal District Court in Pennsylvania that overwhelmingly points to Abu-Jaml’s innocence. The evidence, which consists of four sworn affidavits, has become a part of the official court records.

Rashidi Omari and Brutha Los of the Company of Prophets restored the vitality of the marchers with three of their musical songs as the masses entered Civic Center Plaza for what supporters of the Free Mumia Movement are calling the last dance if the new evidence is suppressed in federal court. The stage was draped in a banner that bore the words, “In Commemoration of the 11 Men, Women and Children Killed in the 1985 Police Bombing of the MOVE House in Philadelphia.” These were some of the people who also were a part of the international protest in 1995 that forced the hand of the executioner from the lever of the death of the former Black Panther and award-winning journalist, Mumia Abu-Jamal. The wide array of support by the masses has been the mainstay and tactical defense of Abu-Jamal. His support includes not only prisoners of war in the United States, but also Nelson Mandela of South Africa, French president Jacques Chirac and members of the British Parliament.

Mumia Abu-Jamal has run his course in the Pennsylvania state courts, where every shred of evidence that provided open-and-shut evidence of his innocence was ruled out by a judge known in Philadelphia as the “king of death row” for handing down more death sentences than any other sitting judge in the United States, Albert Sabo. His case has now come before the lowest federal court in Pennsylvania, the federal District Court, and the sitting judge, William H. Yohn, Jr. Judge Yohn, however, does not have to admit any evidence that was not already a part of the original evidence based on a 1996 law, the Anti-Terrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act, signed into law by then-President Bill Clinton. I asked one of the four new legal representatives for Mumia Abu-Jamal, Elliot Grossman, to give me an update of the situation of Abu-Jamal.

“We just appeared for the first time in federal court in Philadelphia last Friday, May 4th. We filed evidence, affidavits, which are sworn statements, just like testimony in court, on Friday. New evidence and some evidence that we have found in the files of the previous attorneys that had never before been presented to the court.”

I asked Grossman that this new evidence, according to information I have received, may not make it at the appellate level because Judge Yohn might refuse to admit it based on the Death Penalty Act, is this correct?

“No,” stated Grossman. “I think that is getting ahead of the game. We’ve filed this evidence in court. It is now a part of the official record, and we expect the judge to consider the evidence. What’s done with the evidence remains to be seen. But basically what we’ve got here is evidence that we feel cannot be ignored. This is evidence that proves that Mumia Abu-Jamal is innocent. That he did not kill Officer Faulkner. That, in fact, we have a sworn confession by the man who really did kill Officer Faulkner -- a man named Arnold Beverly -- who says in his sworn confession that he was hired by corrupt elements in the police department itself, and elements of organized crime in Philadelphia to kill Faulkner because Faulkner was interfering with corruption and payoffs in the center city area. We have also filed an affidavit from Mumia himself for the first time presenting his sworn testimony in court explaining what happened the night of December 9, 1981, specifically, “ continued Grossman, “that 1) he did not shoot the officer; 2) he was not involved in that; 3) he was basically in the wrong place at the wrong time; and 4) he was shot down himself,” stated Grossman.

Elliott Grossman went on to tell me that “the reason that he [Mumia Abu-Jamal] did not testify to this effect in the 1995 Post-Conviction hearings that took place after his trial and appeal was over was because his previous attorney, Leonard Weinglass, told him ‘not to testify.’”

“We also have an affidavit from Billy :Cook, Mumia’s brother, in which he testifies that the incident began, basically, when a volkswagon driven by Billy Cook was stopped by Officer Falkner. Billy Cook testifies in his affidavit that there was a passenger in his car with him. This is an interesting fact that the prosecution completely kept out of the trial of Mumia, and in fact, suborn perjury in Mumia’s trial by having one of their witnesses testify that no one else was there when, in fact, there was someone else there at the scene -- the passenger in Billy Cook’s car. What Billy Cook says in his affidavit is that ‘after the incident was over,’ and after Billy was released by the police, when he talked with this man again -- the person who was his passenger -- the passenger told him that ‘he,’ the passenger, ‘had been part of a plot to kill Faulkner. That there was a plot to kill Faulkner.’ The passenger was armed that night and participated in the shooting. Billy Cook states in his affidavit that he was ‘willing and ready to testify in the 1995 Post-Conviction proceedings, and the reason he did not testify is that Leonard Weinglass, Mumia’s previous attorney, told him not to testify.’”

Grossman concluded his stated by saying that “Faulkner was set up to be hit. We have a confession from the man who was one of the people who did that, and this man says, sworn under penalty of perjury, that ‘Mumia Abu-Jamal had nothing to do with it. That Mumia did not get there until after the officer had been shot. That Mumia had nothing to do with the shooting.’”

I asked Elliott Grossman about the whereabouts of Arnold Beverly, the man who has come forward to take responsibility for his actions 20 years ago?

“We are not disclosing any information regarding his whereabouts,” began Grossman “because he, obviously, is running serious risks of his own personal security by coming forward and presenting this information. Because he has testified that he was paid and he was hired by high-ups in organized crime and corrupt police officials to murder a police officer.”

I asked Elliot Grossman if this evidence is sufficient to compel Yohn to look at the evidence and admit it into the federal District Court, on its face

“We consider that this evidence proves that Mumia is innocent. If he is innocent, then they should overturn his conviction and release him. That is what they should do. We are talking a serious turn of events here. We have clear evidence to exonerate Mumia Abu-Jamal. This man is innocent. There is no reason for him to continue to be in prison and certainly no reason for him to be on death row. That is our position,” concluded Grossman as he walked toward the stage.

by Willie Warren/PO’ Poet and Organizer

To: Board Of Supervisors,

From Willie Warren

The story you are about to read is a true "event" that happened to me on Labor Day weekend. It is a result of the strange and hostile behavior that I have seen out in the public since the introduction of the Care Not Cash Plan and other city policies that target the homeless. This is the story.

On 09-02-02 at 8:10pm I was coming from the bus stop at Van Ness Street and Turk Street. As I got to Polk Street and Turk Street I decided to go to Kentucky Fried Chicken to get something to eat.

After I crossed Polk Street, I turned left to head up Polk to get K.F.C. on the corner of Polk Street and Eddy Street. There were some people out in front of the bar called the Wooden Horse. As I passed one girl who looked
familiar I said, "How ya doin?" She smiled and said, "I’m good, How are you?" As I kept walking past her I noticed 2 white guys in front of the bar showing lots of anger by cursing a lot.

I paid no special attention to it until one of them looked at me and shouted, "Hey nigger Mother Fucker." At first , I was shocked that he actually said that to me, but I kept walking trying to ignor it. He said it again, but louder, "Hey nigger, I’m taking to you punk.

" I stopped momentarily and asked him, "Why are you saying this when I don’t even know you?" His reply was, "Fuck you." He approached me and was blocking my way. His friend was behind me.

I went around and kept walking away. He and his friend started following me until I stopped to let them pass me. When they passed me, I backed up in the direction of the bar. One was my height and the other one was taller.

When I stopped backing up, they both turned around and came back towards me. This is when I sensed trouble. The biggest one again was blocking my way, while his friend was behind me. I said, "What problem do you have with me? I’m a Homeless Advocate who works around the corner.

" When I said that, he really got angry. He said, "You represent those sorry ass people. You should be agreeing with Newsom e and his plan, you fuck." I told him, "I don’t think so. Do you work for Newsome or something?" At this point, he started shuffling around like he was in a boxing ring. Realizing that he was ready to charge, I started taking off my backpack. That’s when his friend who was behind me grabbed my backpack from behind.

As I pushed him away, I turned around just in time to see the bigger one coming at me with some type of club-like object in his hand.

But, I saw it too late and was hit hard. Blood immediately gushed from my head as I went down. As I tried to get up, I was hit again above the eye. As I was going down again, I tried to get away from him to put up some kind of defense.

But I had lost too much blood and couldn’t see so I landed on the ground hard. As I turned back to see where he was, I saw him coming and about to kick me some more. But I also blacked out as he approached me. I don’t know what happened next because I was out cold.
When I came to, there was a paramedic kneeling next to me telling me, "You’re going to be alright bro. "You’ve been assaulted and some injured.

"The Police are here investigating this incident and you’re going to S.F. General Hospital for treatment." I said, "O.K." When the paramedics put me inside the ambulance the blond haired guy asked me, "What happened?"

At first I said, "I don’t know" because I couldn’t remember. But after a few minutes I remembered that I was hit by a object of about 12 inches long and about 2 inches in diameter. I said, "wait, that guy hit me with something.

" He asked me, "Could you tell me what it was?" I said, "I can describe it to you but I don’t know what it was."

He said, "O.K. Don’t worry about it. Just rest until we get to the hospital." Again I blacked out. When I came to, I was being wheeled in the Trauma Center of S.F.G.H., I was asked to slide over to the waiting bed and relax until the doctor arrives.

The doctor checked me out thoroughly to see if there was any serious damage. Luckily there was none. The doctor asked me, "Do you know where you are?" I said, "Yes. I’m in S.F.G.H. in San Francisco.

" The n she said, "You don’t know where you are?" I said, "Yes. I’m in S.F.G.H. in San Francisco." She then said, "You don’t have a concussion, but you might have some light headaches for a few days."

One of the nurses said, "However, since the introduction of Care Not Cash and other policies, there has been an increase in street violence. It was at this point that I decided to write a sort of article abut if for others to increase there awareness of what kind of behavior can happen.

At 3:00am my friends came and took me to their house to recover. After several hours of rest I was able to sit up to think a lot clearer on this matter.

Since the first words that were shouted to me contained the "N" word, I believe that these two guys had a real problem with my "suntan." This could be the reason why they singled me out and started towards me.

Then, upon noticing my backpack, could have made them believe that I was homeless. Then, they realized that I was a Homeless Advocate, that took them over-the-edge. As a result of this, I am not a surviving target of a hate crime.

Had I been a homeless person who didn’t have friends that I do, I can imagine that I would’ve been very scared. What shelter will have available bed spaces that last longer than a one night’s stay.

Policies like Care Not Cash and being illegal to sleep in your car cause homeless people to panic. They cling only to survival when someone in City hall is plotting to take away their source of income or their "home" and possessions.

It also causes residents to blame homeless people for the rising tension between themselves and homeless people.

I’ve heard that Gavin Newsome actually had to hire his own personal security to guard him where ever he goes. Is Gavin Newsome afraid that what happened to me might happen to him?

This incident was caused by ignorant people who believed in a wrongful and uncaring way of thinking if this letter that you are reading right now were to be read by every citizen in town, whether homeless or not, what would they think of present city policies and the Care Not Care plan?

Do you really think that the people of San Francisco would elect a Mayor whose policies are causing a anti-social and violent breeding ground? That would be like electing Gavin Newsome for Mayor to prostitute negative policies amongst the people, with Willie Brown as his pimp collecting all the credit and glory.

Time for Gavin and other city officials to wake up before they ruin San Francisco. I’ve read about these supposed endorsements that Gavin had and lost the same week. Political figures and policies like these are on a self –destruct course and are planning to take all of the City down with them.

Safety in citizenship isn’t a privilege, it’s a right!

Surviving Yours

Willie Warren


Cc: The Street Sheet

Cc: Board Of Supervisors

Cc: The Chonicle’s Editor

Cc: The Examiner’s Editor

NUMBNESS, THEN PAIN

A Poem in response by Willie Warren

Here’s a whiten your hair story,

Or at least, turn it gray;

My private space was violated

With a shocking memory display.

At 8:00pm Labor Day night,

Coalition On Homelessness bound;

After a McMillan’s Drop-In shower,

My hunger craving I found.

At Polk and Turk streets,

Seeking Kentucky Fried Chicken.

North on Polk with no idea,

That my safety clock was tickin’

Never fearing to walk along,

With all of life to gain;

Into a life chapter of,

Numbness, then pain.

Passing people on the sidewalk,

Weaving by smoking, of course;

Two guys outside the bar,

Named the Wooden Horse.

Never seeing them before

While walking, insults began;

These two fools didn’t like,

The shade of my suntan.

"Hey nigger" they r repeated,

Time stopped in suspension.

As I walked they followed me,

With speed they started to gain;

Increasing my chances to feel,

Numbness, then pain.

The bigger one blocked my path,

His comments were unkind;

This is where I asked them,

"Guys, what’s on your mind.

I don’t know who are,

I’m a Homeless Advocate,"

And then seen you before;

I’m a Homeless Advocate,"

His response was arrogant,

"Your advocacy has flaws;

Gavin Newsome has the plan,

Homeless need to obey laws"

I said, "Dig this slick,

Advocates don’t struggle in vain;

We oppose policies that cause,

Numbness, then pain."

by Boys and Girls Club of the Southern Ute Indian Tribe

Tiny and Mari from POOR Magazine's Indigenous Peoples Media Project collaborated with Ras K' Dee (Pomo/Afrikan) from SNAG Magazine and Cassandra Yazzie (Dine') from Four Rivers Institute to lead the Native Hip Hop workshop at the Boys and Girls Club of the Southern Ute Indian Tribe located on the Southern Ute Indian Reservation. The Workshop included Hip Hop writing, poetry, beat-making, film and consciousness training for young people 6-18. It was a very powerful exchange of intergenerational knowledge, culture, art and indigenous resistance on occupation, land, poverty and de-colonization. Here is some of the written pieces.

Editors Note: Last week Cassandra Yazzie was killed in an automobile crash. All of us are extremely saddened by her loss and are dedicating this issue of POOR Magazine to her beautiful spirit.

November's PNN radio and Bay Native Circle on KPFA are also dedicated to her memory and family. Mari from Indigenous Peoples Media Project has wrote an article in honor of her at http://poormagazine.org/index.cfm?L1=news&category=35&story=2399

by Staff Writer

Today, July 8, 2009 marks the 43rd anniversary of a Bennett Freeze imposed on July 8, 1966 by U.S. Commissioner of Indian Affairs Robert Bennett. The freeze made poverty mandatory for 10,000 people (with countless more displaced) living on 1.5 million acres in the western portion of the Navajo Nation.

The freeze made it illegal for people to fix their homes, build new homes, have access to running water, electricity, any infrastructure and development. Elderly people whose wells ran dry could not drill a new well, were forced to drink uranium and arsenic contaminated water, denied the right to build a wheelchair ramps to their homes and repair leaking roofs and broken windows. No new housing, schools, waterlines, powerlines, community facilities. Nothing.

The ban on construction and high unemployment rate forced the area’s young people to work away from their homes and families. It also had a devastating effect on a traditional Navajo socio-economic system that is centered around raising livestock and farming. Compounded by livestock confiscation and barren fields, the people faced starvation or wage labor and federal aid.

On May 8, 2009, President Obama signed legislation to end the freeze. However, no plan for rehabilitation has been made public. For this reason, Forgotten People by and through their attorney James W. Zion, Esq. filed a Notice of Suit requesting production and disclosure of a Bennett Freeze Recovery Plan to make the plan public and see how it will or will not benefit the people of the Bennett Freeze.

Notice of Suit

The Forgotten People Community Development Corporation, a nonprofit corporation, announced today that it will file suit against Scott House, the manager of the Former Bennett Freeze Recovery Plan Task Force, the Navajo Nation, and WHPacific, Inc. for production and public disclosure of the Former Bennett Freeze Recovery Plan. Despite WhPacific’s broadside for a “Final All-Chapter Summit Meeting” in August 2008 and a promise that the “final project deadline” would be September 15, 2008, and despite President Joe Shirley, Jr.’s. January 26, 2009 announcement he would produce the plan, it has not been made public so that it can be reviewed by the victims of the Bennett Freeze.

President Shirley prematurely announced that the Bennett Freeze was “over” when the Navajo Nation signed a compact with the Hopi Tribe, and we now have legislation in place that formally terminated the freeze. What we do not have is either a plan or a program of rehabilitation to deal with the freeze, or effective involvement of the victims of the Freeze to address its severe impacts.

The Forgotten People Community Development Corporation made a formal demand for a copy of the Former Bennett Freeze Area Recovery Plan under the Navajo Nation Privacy Act on March 31, 2009. Scott House, the manager of the task force that was to develop the plan, did not respond to the demand for more than three months, so the Forgotten People CDC is bringing a suit to produce a copy of the plan so it can be made public.

Suit is initiated by a notice of intent made to the President and Attorney General of the Navajo Nation to give an additional period of time to produce a copy of the plan. The notice of suit states a claim under the Privacy Act and also states claims for access to public information under the free speech provisions of the Navajo Nation Bill of Rights and the “rule of law” and “communication with the people for guidance” provisions of The Fundamental Laws of the Dine.

The Forgotten People intends to make the plan public when a copy is obtained, with information on how it will or will not benefit the people of the Bennett Freeze.

For further information, contact: Lucy Knorr, Secretary-Treasurer (928) 401-1777

by Joseph Bolden

Living A Life

Recently my age double five still alive.

It occurs to me I’ve missed opportunities, which may have saved my life at various crossroads in my life.

Nearly drowned at Orchard Beach at 5 or 6 years old I think a girl or young woman saved me.

Saw no bright lights, did feel calm floating around.

Volunteered for Viet Nam in 1972 or 3 at the age of 18 or 19 the usual reasons no job, leaving home,the military makes men, or to do something with my life.

Anyway I volunteered at four branches of the military plus The Air National Guard.

Was turned down because of a lazy eye

[told to drink plenty of carrot juice.]

All it did was make my stool orange and learned I liked carrot juice, cookies, and cake.

It could have been after being asked,
“What if you are ordered to shoot a man?”

My answer was “Why, what reason to do that?”

I guess that's the wrong way to answer a direct question because in the circumstances
when given an order one’s duty is to obey without question any or most orders when given by a superior or higher ranking officer.

Not being a perfect specimen because of faulty sight may have indeed saved me from that war.

Also while exercising that involves jumping up and down I may have been too enthusiastic jumping too high and across the floor.

Oh well I did volunteer so it’s one of those fateful choices that could change anyone’s life.

Before that bad times in summer camp sponsored by New York's Our Lady Of Mercy Church.

Bright yellow shirt green writing stenciled on.

Pain connected memories.

I'm fighting another kid.

With a fear churning belly, backed up for room to fight, then I’m stuck!

I had backed into a nail.
impale or Impaled! don't which is right but I couldn't move!

A wooden box or pallet turned with the nails exposed.

Couldn’t move forward, back shoots shocks of pain through me.

Not knowing this as I fought girls are screaming and gasps from other kids.

Some bigger kids and adults separate us.

Blood drips from the wood on to the ground only then did I see the bent, rusty nail as I with help was pulled slowly forward
from the wooden structure.

My blood gleams seems to glisten in the morning sun.

Little girls scream, crying,touch my back, shoulders as if they feel my pain before I can.

Red seeps from me.

I was thinking its raining feel my back wet.

Girls crying make me sad is all I was thinking.

I’m rushed to the a nurse at the infirmary.

She says its not serious but gave me a tetanus shot.

I still have a jagged scar on my back.

I'm able to go to summer camp, the new hole in my back is no big deal.

Years later when my mother, brother, and I moved I thought it was because of the divorce looking back it may also have been because of that incident.

That wasn’t the only time I was impaled.

Also speared in the throat after giving two quick, hard rabbit punches to some guy thought if funny to take my gym shorts down in public while on a grassy field as everyone was jogging outside?

I rabbit punched him, bloodied his nose.

for me its over, wrong.

The next week was his revenge as I’m speared in the throat by a shopping cart weighed down by football equipment
including two bars used to raise another bar to jump over.

The guy pushes the cart running with it, somebody yells."look out!"

Too late I'm speared in the side of my neck!

I'm on the grass holding my bleeding throat.

It looks worse than it really is.

I Bleed profusely from near the jugular vein is scary.

I always felt my voice had been changed because of that.

It is only now I’m trying to see if I have any singing voice at all.

Girls, women were and still are confounded mysteries always drawn to ‘em but not they to me so missed out on dances, social stuff, graduated danced a little.

Bummed around L.A. just when a psychopath who road the rails hunted and killed transients/
homeless now called houseless folk.

Safe in Mr. and Mrs. Joe’s church/house working for room and board in L.A.’s West End Skid row
before doing the same in The Salvation Army.

I could hear screams for help and wonder was it the railway killer or some guy getting beaten up or worse because they got caught by a gang or someone just wanting beat on someone who has less than they have knowing they’d get away clean because society didn’t care.

Was this the beginning of criminalizing transients, houseless, jobless, and youth creating or increasing more disposable people besides families or single mom’s or dad’s on welfare?

Eventually while learning a skill I did find a few women taking a chance on me.
As for the four letters word of L-O-V-E

I missed that call to me.

As an old movie line says, “What’s sex without love?
“It’s Just sex, it’s just sex.”

Better the latter if the other isn’t meant for us.

Now I’m 55, there are still places to go, visit, people to know.

I know to go forward not backup and avoid sharp objects or persons with sharp objects and really before speaking listen to women most of 'em help too few to mention have hurt me.

So what If I missed some things as a single healthy black male I count myself as rare and lucky in the extreme to still be alive at this stage of the game each day is God/Goddess given gravy.

San Francisco is where I reside for now that may change its all right change is constant.

I’ve tended to go-with-flow, not let too many things up set me.

I pray to live a long vigorous, adventurous, life have many good fem buds and guy friends as well avoiding old grim reaper, faking out Mother Nature for as long as science and technology will allow.

Did any of our lives turn out as we hoped or is it less than we dreamed?

Any comments sent to

telljoe@poormagazine.org or email me at

jsph_bldn@yahoo.com

Yes,my email,I'll try email you back.

by TJ Johnston

Big Brother paranoiacs are surely not put at ease by the accounts of organic farmer and Green Party activist Nancy Oden and her expulsion from Bangor International Airport for having the temerity to question the surly attitude of a Maine National Guardsman who searched her luggage.

Oden's police state fantasies were beginning to be realized on November 2 at the American Airlines ticket counter. She waited for her round-trip ticket to Chicago which she purchased online six weeks previously (she made two similar purchases earlier in the year and in the same manner). She found it curious that the agent took a while on the computer, though having arrived an additional two hours before her flight, she chalked it up to the new post-September 11 sensibilities.

Then the agent marked an "S" on her boarding pass. Oden inquired why. The agent explained that the computer flagged her to have her luggage searched. It occurred to the anti-war activist who had an op-ed recently printed in an area newspaper that hers may have not been a random search. She asked the agent if this was the case and the agent confirmed that it was.

But it was the manner in which she was searched that riled Oden. She was surrounded by half a dozen Guardsman during the scrutinizing of her baggage. One was especially hostile. When he grabbed her arm and starting haranguing her about "what happened on September 11," Oden felt her personal boundaries compromised and gave him a piece of her mind. The Guardsman found nothing remotely threatening, save for her awareness of her rights.

Inevitably, she was detained and denied passage (according to an American Airlines spokesman, she was "uncooperative"). Eventually, her ticket was refunded, but she was kicked out the airport. The airline offered her the alternative to depart from Boston's Logan Airport but her jalopy was not up for the five-hour detour (it barely made it to Bangor). The Green Party USA Coordinating Committee conference had to deal with her absence.

Oden is still stewing over the abrogation of her civil liberties. The list on which her name appeared in the first place is a compilation of "potential terrorists" the FBI distributes to airports. Normally, known criminals would appear on the airlines' radar, as would people who pay cash on a same-day flight. Of course, neither of these criteria explains the Gestapo treatment she suffered.

If a member of a pacifist political party would be marked for searching, what does it say for the rest of us? How do we avert being labeled as a "potential terrorist" before we embark on our airline travels?

These were the questions on my mind when I attempted to contact Timothy Ahern, American Airlines' VP in charge of safety and security. My calls, of course, went unreturned (granted, the Flight 537 crash in Queens, NY might have had something to do with his unavailability).

Closer to home, I thought of contacting a couple of travel agencies under the guise of a possible holiday traveler on American. Both agencies were surprised to hear about the Nancy Oden incident. All they could offer by way of advice was declaring your carry-on luggage and refraining from packing sharp or metallic-looking objects. At least they were friendly.

Between the military-corporate collusion in "rounding up the usual suspects" and the hassles inherent in holiday travel, I might as well ride Greyhound this year.

by Joe B.

Male Complexity Pt.1

Ok, Male doc’s were and continue to be wrong when using male bodies as end all/be all as women suffered from complaints male gynecologists had little or no idea of comprehended.

Its slowly being corrected.

I’d say over corrected giving women an exaggerated sense of superiority, we know the symptoms as may men still act as if their Gods/Goddesses gift to the female race we know because it still with us.

Women for the longest time at least two or three decades now believed after gaining power on their own that they are not the superior sex.

Yes, you mature, are stronger emotionally, can in the throes of emotional turmoil think rationally unlike most men, verbally better at speech and use hemispheres of their brains as men us either on or the other.

Of course feminine trump is always bringing life in the world.

Though it is now know not all women able to conceive children have natural mothering instincts as with men who’s seed can contribute to making babies are father materials and men can nurture some better than the mother’s that gave their child life.

Yes it seemed not long past women seemed to invade men’s cherished turf basketball to the boardroom and sacred male bastion of "men only social clubs" where men used social contacts to improve their business aspects.

Women have the same its call it "Networking" though its a girl’s ‘uh, excuse me Women’s Sisterhood socializing younger or the contemporaries up the corporate, political ladders.

I know it was a shock to most woman that some men don’t mind being home, watching, enjoying their son’s and daughter’s while they worked.

At first it chafes being in unfamiliar territory of diapers, P.T.A., explaining sex and protection to both son’s and daughters plus temptation of other stay-at-home mom’s; his wife’s friends dropping by unannounced sometimes doing way more than help their hapless friends hubby with his small charges.

Just because a guy’s at home without a job caring for his children makes him no less a man.

It’s opened up many men to what women still continue to go through - the "having it all theme" of late 1970’s early ‘80’s rang hollow to many women scrambling to be both career woman and mother.

Men saw these contradiction tried to warm them but speaking in dominant male language most women didn’t or couldn’t listen, had to prove things to themselves, the world at large and until cancer rates, job burnout take their toll only then did women begin listening.

Donations C/0 Poor Magazine


1448 Pine Street #205

San Francisco, CA 94103

Email:
askjoe@poormagazine.org

by Leroy F. Moore Jr

I can’t rest

My disabled brothers and sisters are dragged, shot and beaten to death

Society is scared of him..Big, black and mentally ill

Take him away and give him more pills

I can’t sleep

My disabled brothers and sisters are living on the streets

The ADA has done nothing for me
Listen to my life

Got raped in a shelter

Got robbed on the streets

Three strikes and now I’m in prison for life

I can’t rest

28 million dollars for Ed Roberts’ Campus

Can’t even get my SSI cause I have no address... Does anybody care?

Disabled youth abused in foster car..Segregated in school.. now I’m on welfare

My disabled brothers and sisters are put to rest...

On the streets, in psychiatric wards and in prison

But I feel your spirit and anger in my chest

I won’t rest..Your spirit and anger won’t rest

...We won’t let you rest

by Boys and Girls Club of the Southern Ute Indian Tribe

Talia Porambo
Slam Bio

Blue

Sour sometimes

Vanilla

Soft

A big fierce bear

My Southern Ute culture is creative, and very festive

I live with my dad

He’s always being funny

My home is always warm and as spiritual as the Sundance ground

I struggle with life, like not being on time, not doing the right, and what life throws at me

Like a ball being thrown at me but I don’t want it to be thrown at me

by RAM/PNN

Since the time I was nine I have had regular suicidal thoughts. I started smoking marijuana regularly when I was fourteen. I smoked as a way to stay alive and to stay focused on the things that mattered to me in life. I smoked to be happy and get rid of my negative internal dialogue. Smoking also helped me stay away from hard drugs and excessive alcohol. Currently marijuana is my only positive outlet for daily anxieties about my past. I don't want to let go of my past, but I need a positive and productive way to deal with it and continue towards a healthy future.

In San Francisco and all over California the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) has threatened to close Cannabis Clubs. This horrifies me because I need safe access to marijuana to help deal with my depression and my emotions. I am now the father of two daughters and I am constantly trying to move ahead in my life. I want to be as positive a role model for my daughters that I can. I want to create a home environment where they can come and stay with their father and feel a stability and consistency that I never really had.

Growing up in a trauma riddled environment I had to constantly remind myself there was light at the end of the tunnel in the distance that I couldn't even see yet. One of my first memories when I was only eight years old has stayed vivid in my mind.

"Take you're ass in the living room NOW!" My father's voice boomed through the house almost knocking me over.

It was all basically over a bill that was either not paid or paid a little late. I came home from school one day to my parents arguing or better yet pops yelling at my mom who was sitting on my bottom bunk weeping like a child. He was screaming at the top of his lungs about something I did not understand.

"Boy, take your ass in the living room now, before I whoop you too."

I sat there not knowing what was going on only hearing the screaming and screeching of my moms voice feeling helpless and powerless. I thought to myself as I heard my mother's cries, there is nothing I can do and how could my father do this.

Thinking back on memories such as these in my life, I end up with waterfalls running down my face. Marijuana calms and relaxes me so I can process and deal with these memories without the desire to do something that would end up hurting myself. Although I use marijuana for emotional support for some people with illnesses such as HIV and cancer medical marijuana offers an alternative to heavy medications or acts as a supplemental treatment. Many rely on marijuana to stay alive.

As Reverend Randi Webster recently said during a visit to POOR Magazine, "If Cannabis Club dispensaries close, I am worried that I will have to attend many more funerals."

I don't want to buy marijuana off the street risking jail or even worse. I also don't want to risk being sold laced drugs or running into old people, places or things. I don't want to risk starting my old habits again. I need 'safe access.' I know many people are in my position.

Jewnbug from POOR Magazine said, "350 Divisadero Cannabis Club saved my life. It's a place where I can medicate and incorporate artistic expression."

Similar to Jewnbug and many other people who have had to deal with trauma, marijuana helps me focus in all parts of my life especially in music, poetry, and acting. Marijuana helps me through the trauma of my past and present and keeps my mind positive.

California and the eleven other states that have compassionate use laws are being intimidated to end safe access. The DEA has sent letters to property owners who rent to dispensaries in San Francisco- and all over California- threatening them with property seizure. The San Francisco safe access community has unified behind a resolution to include the landowners in the city's sanctuary status for medical cannabis. The Board of Supervisors vote was postponed until Tuesday, February 26th. Axis of Love is calling for support at this meeting. The safe access community is calling for Mayor Newsom to join with Mayor Dellums of Oakland in support of the resolution.

The resolution sets the tone for political resolve and directs action from all local and state legislators to oppose intimidation measures lodged by the DEA against sick, disabled, and dying Californians seeking medical cannabis as a treatment. So far, San Francisco has been resilient and no medical cannabis co-op has closed its doors because of the DEA intimidation. The resolution was introduced by Supervisor Chris Daly and co-sponsored by Supervisors Ross Mirkarimi, Jake McGoldrick, and Tom Ammiano. The Harvey Milk Democratic Club, the San Francisco Green Party, and local patient advocacy Group ASA SF have endorsed the resolution.

I fear that if people who are in need of medical marijuana like myself, and other people who are sick and/or disabled lose their safe places to medicate we will be subject to the streets, violence, more police harassment, and other drugs. I fear, like Reverend Webster, that if Cannabis clubs are forced to close there will be many more funerals to attend.

RAM's second POORPress Publication, Another Broken Heart Mended is about the trauma Ruyata went through as a child which lead to his drug abuse and his recovery. For more information on his book or to order a copy please call 415.863.6306.