Story Archives

by Tony Robles/PNN

Live it down

There’s a lot of us been pushed around

Red, yellow, black, white and brown

With a tear of their own

Can’t you see
While you’re pickin’ on society

That the leaves on your family tree

Are calling you to come home

"Keeper of the Castle"--The Four Tops

I remember sitting in my father’s chocolate colored Cutlass in 1972. Dad was a young father—handsome, a sharp dresser and a guy that didn’t take any crap—especially from his son. He owned what seemed to be 10 thousand record albums. We drove to my aunt’s house on 12th Ave when I heard the Four Tops’ “Keeper of the Castle” on the car radio (KDIA, "Lucky 13"). The song was about fatherhood: You’re the keeper of the Castle/So be a father to your children/The provider of all their daily needs/Like a sovereign lord protector/Be their destiny’s director/and they’ll do well to follow where you lead. I can't forget the powerful voice of Levi Stubbs on that record--a voice that told fathers to handle their business. My father had that album. The song meant something to him.

Program Director “JJ” of San Francisco’s KPOO (89.5 fm/www.Kpoo.Com) announced the death of Four Tops lead singer Levi Stubbs at age 72 during his afternoon show on October 17th . I was in my girlfriend’s beat up Volvo station wagon affectionately known as the “Hooptie Volvo” heading down Divisadero Street with a couple of Filipino poets when the news hit me. JJ dedicated his show to the memory of Levi Stubbs by playing “Baby I need your loving”. The poets were silent.

Levi Stubbs possessed one of the greatest voices of all time. When I reflect back on growing up, I always think of the music of the time. The music was truly the soundtrack of the poverty and indigenous scholarship I was blessed to have as a child. I would come home from school and my father would be listening to his record albums. Black music—jazz, rhythm and blues—was what he listened to. Without it I don’t know if my uncles or aunts—Filipinos with black/brown hearts, bellies, minds—would have survived.

Levi Stubbs was born Levi Stubbles in Detroit in 1936—the cousin of legendary R&B singer Jackie Wilson (www.jackiewilson.net). He and a group of friends formed The Four Aims in 1954—changing their name to the Four Tops in 1956. In 1963 the group signed with Motown Records. Levi Stubbs’ rich baritone was the lynchpin in a succession of hits that included, “Baby I need your lovin’”, “I can’t help myself”, “It’s the same old song”, “Reach out I’ll be there”, “Standing in the Shadows of love”, “Bernadette” and “Ain’t no woman like the one I’ve got”. The group’s longevity was amazing--performing 4 decades with all original members. The group was inducted into the Rock n Roll hall of fame in 1990.

Levi Stubbs and his wife Clineice were married in 1960 and stayed married until his death. He was the father of 5 children and grandfather of 11. His unforgettable voice was in demand and in 1986 he was the voice of Audrey II the carnivorous plant in the movie version of “Little Shop of Horrors” and the voice of “Mother Brain” in the animated TV series “Captain N: The Game Master in 1989. In 1995 Levi Stubbs was diagnosed with cancer, followed by a stroke. He stopped touring and performing, making occasional appearances at special events.

As I drove down Divisadero in the Volvo, the voice of Levi Stubbs took me back to another place. I was no longer in a Volvo but in a Chocolate colored Cutlass with my father and, this time, driving him around. I’m asking him to talk story with me about being a Filipino boy in the Fillmore and to sing me his favorite songs. I can hear his voice and the voices of my aunts and uncles and the spirits of my elders as I listen to Levi Stubbs' incredible and beautiful voice. He’s the keeper of the castle.

by Marlon Crump/PNN

"Nancy Pelosi is SO out of touch with the regular American, that it is pathetic. She said that this will be a NEW direction, but instead, they're going in the same!" said anti-war activist /Peace Mom, Cindy Sheehan, during an interview for POOR Magazine/ POOR News Network.

Following the interview, Cindy attended POOR Magazine's Community Newsroom, where she was collectively interviewed by my POOR family, on October 7th, 2008 on what her relation (s) and thoughts to the very issues that deeply impact people in poverty and even privilege, daily. October 7th also marked the three-year anniversary of my near death-experience of racial profiling, at the hands of a dozen members of the San Francisco Police Department.

Last year during an event in the backyard of the headquarters of both ISARC (Idriss Stelley Action Resource Center) and the S.F BayView National Black Newspaper, in San Francisco Bayview Hunter's Point, my comrade and godmother, mesha Monge-Irizarry, founder/director of ISARC introduced me to two women.

One of them was anti-war activist, Cindy Sheehan, Peace Mom, and founder of "Camp Casey" The other was former U.S Representative, and current Green Party candidate for the 2008 U.S Presidential election, Cynthia Mckinney.

I had the pleasure of meeting both of these women. During the festivities, I greeted Cindy Sheehan with a warm hug of solidarity, in the movement for struggle towards change from everything that affected people universally, from poverty, oppression, racism, war, etc, etc.

Sheehan, and many people, nationwide have fought a near-never ending battle to the end of a certain war, since its birth on March 20th, 2003 by the U.S President, George W. Bush:

The End of the Iraq War, and the U.S occupation in Middle Eastern countries!

For those who are unfamiliar with Cindy Sheehan, and her opposition stance against the War in Iraq, she joined the anti-war movement in 2004, following the news that her son, Casey Sheehan had been killed in the war. Casey was a specialist in the First Cavalry Unit, in Sadr City.

Since Casey's death, Cindy unleashed ultra-unrelenting attempts against the entire administration of President George W. Bush, towards ending the Iraq War, and the return of U.S Troops back home to their families.

For centuries, the children of Almighty God were often sent to wars, convinced that their self-sacrifice is to" serve their country" unaware of the frightening reality that they're really serving their country's "interests!" Glory for the greed of governments, guts spilled from children who're unsure if they'll ever return to their families, in one piece to say the least.

"In God We Trust" as it is hypocritically inked on the average U.S 1$ bill.

Despite Cindy Sheehan's efforts, from her appearances to the White House, arrests of civil disobedience, giving untold amounts of speeches, touring countries, and even purchasing property to bring "Camp Casey" near Bush's ranch, in Crawford, Texas; President Bush's heart remained hardened like Pharaoh who was constantly warned by Moses to either free the slaves of Israel from bondage, or feel God's wrath.

Instead of producing twelve plagues, however, Cindy chose different approaches by battling the Bush Administration with her very voice of resistance, struggle, and presence. In that process, she's received nationwide and international attention, with that same voice.

Most of the youth, sons and daughters that has ever served in the U.S Military, were either brought up in poverty, a working class family, or a place of privilege. "When my son was killed in an illegal war, he wanted to have college money. I suffered without health insurance." Cindy would later explain, during the interview.

Cindy Sheehan was born in Inglewood, California in 1957 to working-class parents who came of age during the depression and World II. Cindy's parents, Shirley and Dennis Miller met at the Lockheed Martin Corporation where they both worked during the 1950s. Shirley raised three children-Cindy, her younger sister Dede and her brother Scott-while Dennis worked as an electrician. Cindy attended public school in Bellflower, California.

In 1974, Cindy Miller met Patrick Sheehan. The couple married in 1977 in Norwalk, California. In the subsequent years, Cindy and Pat Sheehan had four children Casey, Carly, Andy and Jane, and settled their family in Vacaville, California.

When her youngest child was two, Cindy decided to go back to college to earn her bachelor's degree. She first attended Cerritos College where graduated with honors. Thereafter, Cindy transferred to University of California Los Angeles where she majored in U.S. history with a concentration in California history.

Following UCLA, Cindy worked as a Youth Minister at St. Mary's Catholic Church in Vacaville, California for eight years and coordinated an after-school program for at-risk middle school children for the City of Vacaville.

Late last year, Sheehan decided to continue increase her efforts, by going into politics. On December 8, 2007 Cindy Sheehan officially opened her campaign headquarters in San Francisco, CA, where she is now running as an Independent candidate for the United States Congressional Seat, for California's 8th Congressional District, against current incumbent, U.S House Majority Speaker, Nancy Pelosi.

Following this opening, the Cindy for Congress campaign acknowledged the poor population's motivation and commitment(s) towards change, after they appeared out of oppression-able isolation (including myself) to vote, volunteer, and spread the word towards helping Cindy Sheehan be placed on the November ballot.

On August 8th, 2008, this goal was accomplished after the required signature amount, were approved by the City and County of San Francisco, Department of Elections.

Many S.F voters share the same passion, with Sheehan for the removal of Pelosi, who failed deliver her "Articles of Impeachment" (among other U.S Government accountabilities) against U.S President, George W. Bush, following her successful win in the November 2006 Election.

I arrived at her campaign office, CINDY FOR CONGRESS, located at 1260 8th/Mission St, at around 1:50 p.m. After a brief welcome from her volunteer staff, and family members, I greeted Cindy Sheehan and began with the interview. "Should you win the election, what would be one of the first things that you would do? "This was my first question.

"Well, I'm running on a very detailed, progressive, populace platform. My major issues are of course the immediate troop with drawls, in Iraq and Afghanistan, and holding George Bush and Dick Cheney accountable." Sheehan replied. "That's why I am running against Nancy Pelosi because she refuses to hold Bush and Cheney accountable, as well as the occupations in Iraq, and Afghanistan."

I then asked, "Miss Sheehan, what was the feeling you got after meeting with President George W. Bush?" (The devil of devils, monsters of monsters, I thought to myself.)

"Two months after Casey was killed on April 4th, 2004 me and my family met with him. (Bush) He met with us, and approximately 17 other families. The feeling that I got from him was that he didn't care about our loss, and he didn't even want to be there."

As I continued the interview, it quickly dawned on me that her son's death was on the same date that the most famous civil rights leaders in history, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was struck down by an assassin's bullet. The news of King's death caused chain reactions of sorrow, anger, and violence to thousands nationwide.

Thirty-six years later, on April 4th, 2004, there was another news explosion that every mother and father dread. When Cindy received word of her son's demise, via Bush lie, Cindy's internal emotions snapped, like the many that felt lost without Dr. King. Angered, and saddened beyond measure, Cindy Sheehan joined the anti-war movement as a Peace Mom.

During her years of anti-war activism(s) in the road to end the Iraq War, outcries could often be heard in the distance:

"Bush lied, thousands died!"

"Bush lied, thousands died!"

"Bush lied, thousands died!"

Though there exists criticism of her alleged use of her son's death to selfishly achieve her own agendas, Cindy countered this criticism with the inner emotion and strength she carries by transforming tragedy into triumph.

Others have also turned tragedy into triumph, before and after Cindy, such as John Walsh, host of the T.V show "America's Most Wanted", Mothers Against Drunk Driving (M.A.D.D) and mesha Monge-Irizarry, founder, director of the Idriss Stelley Action Resource Center, a non-profit grassroots organization that counsels victims of police brutality.

Cindy, herself, started an organization that founded the Gold Star Families for Peace, (an organization of families who've lost loved ones, to the Iraq War)

I paused as she briefly tended to her grandson. After a few minutes, I then continued the interview. "How has your journey been for you against George Bush?" I asked. Cindy's face seemed to answer that question, by giving a slight shift that showed an expression of the weary road that she left behind, and the road that lies ahead of her.

"It was hard to do in mourning my son." she softly replied. "It was physically exhausting, emotionally, and financially draining. It is still very difficult to be so committed to fundamental positive change, when the system is so stacked against it. "I asked her in regards to change, "Do you think that after you're elected that you can accomplish that?"

Cindy replied, "Well first of all, I am running against the Queen (Pelosi) of the system. "When we (Cindy and her supporters) take her down (defeat her at the November ballots) that is really wounding the system."(From a changing perspective.) "We have the people's platform.

"When Pelosi's out, that puts everyone else in Congress on notice that their jobs are in jeopardy. They will have to listen to their constituents............not their lobbyists."

I then asked about her thoughts regarding the gentrification movement(s) that's occurring, locally, and universally. "How do you feel about gentrification, Miss Sheehan?" She replied, "I think that privatization and gentrification harm communities, because they destroy diversity. Not only is it destroying communities, but it is profoundly harmful to poor families."

It has been reported that Nancy Pelosi supports the housing land development company, based out of Miami, Florida called Lennar Corp. Lennar was recruited by S.F Mayor, Gavin Newsom sometime ago to join the city's "redevelopment" (gentrification movement) against the poor of the entire community of S.F Bayview Hunter's Point.

Recently, Pelosi supported George Bush, after he and Treasure Secretary, Henry Paulson proposed to Congress to sign into law a "Bailout Plan " known as The Emergency Economic Stabilization Act of 2008 to solve the "financial crisis" and "rescue" mortgage companies, banks, and stock markets of the New York Stock Exchange on Wall Street to avoid another "Great Depression."

However, it is yet to be reported of a "Bailout Plan" for those plagued in poverty, and not another Economic Stimulus Plan that would once again fail to boost the economy in crisis.

"This massive bailout is nothing short of a scheme by irresponsible corporate pirates to privatize gains and socialize debt," Sheehan stated recently in an interview on PRNewswire. "Such a move will only further add to the burden of individuals and families, who are already struggling to make ends meet. Not one of our tax dollars should go toward rescuing an industry that is failing because of unregulated lending and trading practices."

"WE ONLY NEED ONE BILLION!" These are the current cries and pleas of seniors, people with disabilities, families, and people living in poverty to gain equity access from U.S Congress towards affordable housing. (This is also in reference to the October 3rd POOR article by "Tiny" Lisa Gray-Garcia, regarding her analysis of the U.S $700 Billion "Bailout Plan" that included the wealthy, but excluded the poor.)

Sheehan pointed out a clear conflict of interest on the part of her opponent, Nancy Pelosi, and other members of the Democratic Party leadership pushing the "corporate bailout" forward. Apparently, Pelosi is one of more than 50 members of Congress, who is said to have investments in the companies involved in the current "financial crisis."

Sheehan also explained how on PRNewswire how Pelosi has half a million dollars in stock invested in AIG (American International Group) alone, which is included in this "bailout" situation. "We need elected officials who will stand up for our interests, not protect their own pockets or the pockets of the very same people who got us into this mess in the first place."

"We are tired of giving golden parachutes to greedy corporate interests. We're standing up and saying, not this time, not with my money and not with my consent!" This "Bailout Plan" is also expected to cost each taxpayer in America $2,300 in the future!

"If you fall on the side that is pro-George and pro-war, you get your ass over to Iraq, and take the place of somebody who wants to come home. And if you fall on the side that is against this war and against George Bush, stand up and speak out.'" -----Cindy Sheehan, BuzzFlash August 20, 2005.

by Catherine Limcaco/POOR Magazine Race, Poverty and Media Justice Intern

Women & revolution are alive & inseparable." In her opening keynote address, celebrated poet and unionist Nellie Wong put it bluntly: "This weekend, we continue the fight for women's liberation because it's as necessary as breathing. The revolution is ours to make. It is our greatest duty. It is our greatest joy." Such sentiments permeated the high-energy event. As one young Chicana noted, "Thunderous applauses, tears of pride and cheers of laughter empowered and emboldened those who came to build the revolutionary feminist movement."

Participants traveled from far and near to attend Radical Women's 41st anniversary conference, The Persistent Power of Socialist Feminism. The landmark Women's Building was a tapestry of ethnicities and colors, feminists born in the United States and many other places, such as Somalia, Iran, Puerto Rico, China, South and Central America, and Spain.Convened in the midst of the imploding U.S. economic crisis, the four-day conference of keynotes and policy resolutions, panels and workshops, sparked intense discussion. The result are concrete action plans to strengthen women's leadership in the social movements, to build united fronts with other committed activists, and to foster solidarity among working people at home and abroad. Merle Woo, one of the volunteers on behalf of Radical Women says , "In these times of economic meltdown, the rise in ranks of economically-distressed workers, the unemployed and homeless, the Radical Women Conference was a true antidote to all these ills, because our goal is to build a grassroots socialist feminist movement that is independent of the Democrats and Republicans and which will truly represent us, the majority, in theory and action."

One pivotal resolution was for a U.S. feminist movement independent of the twin parties of war and reaction. The author, Oregonian mom and bi-lingual teacher Laura Mannen, provided concrete advice on how women can organize independently of the two major parties. "On the job where we are already reviving union power," said Mannen. In coalitions where an army of grassroots women organizes in every community and social movement. In the anti-war movement, pressing it to include youth, women, people of color, queers, socialists, anarchists, pacifists, GIs, veterans and unionists in the crucial war against U.S. militarization. The point, she stressed, is to work together, not separately.

Other movements for immigrants, people of color and queer rights we're spotlighted at this conference. Seattle Radical Women president, Christina López, motivated Estamos en la lucha: Immigrant women light the fires of resistance, the second major policy resolution of the conference. A Chicana-Apache, López exposed the harsh impact of U.S. immigration policies on women and children and heralded the leadership of migrant women fighting for the right to survive around the world. Radical Women members voted unanimously to step up defense of immigrants and to send López on a national speaking tour to address these critical issues.

A panel of Asian American, Black and Chicana/Latina members spoke on "The galvanizing impact of multiracial organizing in a society divided by racism." From its founding in 1967, emphasized Emily Woo Yamasaki, New York City president of Radical Women, the group has fiercely defended its fundamental political position that there can be no revolutionary change without the leadership of women of color. How to teach and practice this made for riveting discussion.

Queer activists at the conference, eager to address issues beyond same-sex marriage, want to combine their issues with the struggle for immigrant rights. The conference pledged to help a guest from Arizona, one who is integrating these struggles in her community. The group also agreed to highlight transgender rights and organize to support the New Jersey Four — Black lesbians being prosecuted for defending themselves.

Moving into action. The conference concluded with National Organizer Anne Slater's report and proposals, Rising to the challenge of socialist feminism in a neoliberal world. Radical Women members affirmed plans outlined by Slater, including the need to maintain a strong national organization and build chapters. The group decided to canvass door-to-door in workingclass neighborhoods to see what issues are of interest to women in local communities, and then organize campaigns around those topics. Furthermore, it was agreed to send resolutions of support and solidarity to political prisoners including the San Francisco 8, Mumia Abu-Jamal, Marilyn Buck, and Leonard Peltier in the United States, Lori Berenson in Peru and Lex Wotton in Australia.

At the end of the four-day conference, it was clear that socialist feminism is alive and thriving. Linking arms across age, race, gender and sexual orientation lines — attendees went forth fortified with the ideas and practical knowledge needed to build a stronger, independent women's movement. Woo believes breaking these racial barriers was one of the highligts. So what's next? Woo says, "A lot needs to be done to implement some power in youth and start crossing generational lines. The youth are the ones who will be left to carry the movement."

by Staff Writer

No I’ve Written No Columns.

There are many reasons for the statement above.

I won’t bore my many readers with multiple excuses.

Said simply there were

and are changes in my life going on at the moment.

From physical, psychological stresses to housing situations that have kept me from the POOR MAGAZINE offices and San Francisco Liberation Radio. Net. programs.

Ultimately I’ve been my own worst enemy (no pun intended)of new recent tv show.

For the past few months either hold up in a bed bug infested room doing the “woe is me” stuff forgetting that I’m blessed to be alive, healthy, and relatively sane.

Being A politictal with all the swirling news about the upcoming election has also gotten to me at times.

I will not worry who’s best for job as the next President or Vice President that’s up to every voter on Nov. 4th.

2008 is a momentous sea change, may usher in changes we cannot yet conceive of.

Personally, sometime after this election is over, the economy still limping along I have some decisions already made
involving travel, jobs, and career goals that just a weeks ago I could not imagine as possible.

CHANGE SEEMS TO BE THE WAY OF THE WORLD.

My firm belief is that it is positive and ongoing for everyone involved.
For me it means turning some tapes in CD’s, going places outside the U.S.

All I’ll say is “If you don’t go and vote, don’t bitch and moan afterwards.

All comments please send to

ne.com.

I think?/telljoe@poormagazine.

by Joseph Bolden

His/Her story made by all of us
Well,here it is momentous,undeniable history being made.

Just being alive to choose who’ll be next president of U.S.A. is an awesome choice.

Many literally fear change coming as old standards flounder, flail,new truths revealed.

For me,not being in Washington isn’t as big a deal as voting for the candidate in the White House
and seeing her or him with left hand raised,right hand on the bible sworn in as the highest office in America is occupied by another person other than Bush.

You know what I say. “If you don’t study the issues, vote your choice… Don’t Bitch ‘N’ Moan about the outcome.

Its up to all of us. As for the two A-holes racist Neo-Nazi Skinheads bone head Kill 88 by beheading

According to documents unsealed in U.S. District in Jackson, Tenn. By A.P. writer Laura Jakes Jordan

Also the numbers 88 and 14are symbolic in the White Supremacist community.

The spree, continues targeting [italics mine] unidentified predominantly African-American School, ending with the Two men driving toward Obama, “shooting at him from the window,”

The court documents show.

Again I thank Associate Press reporter Laura Jakes Jordan
For reporting this.

So,Drive By shootings of Black Schools and a Presidential Candidate…
Well, boys, girls, Women, Men, People- Can we smell not spell the word F E A R, true fear of a first ever Black President?

I’m voting then doing my personal run for life Extension.

I don’t care which political party, or socio economic strata you are from, of, have recently entered maybe re-enter.

My deal: get healthier, improve on it, and get down to research on the best Life Extension therapies.

The next Frontier is a personal stake living way longer than any of us ever expected to live!

I’m not the only one thinking this way.

Its no joke, laughing matter or simply nerdy to think it weird. I’ve got hard work cut out for me to live long, make few enemies have more friends, lovers and see this next evolution stage of People-kind Homo Mathuselah and I’m talking odd walk of dwarfs.

Vote and be ready for change and if it don’t happen become your own change.

Got to go folks and bet that between both Goddess/God and global humanity life extension to eventual personal physical immortality is a given.

The only question is: stay the course ‘til death or change for a chance for the hard earned gift of a very healthy prolonged lifespan.

You know me I seek the enlightenment, illumination not the gray bleak foggy darkness we’ve lived through so far.

Send comments to telljoe@poormagazine.org or www.poormagazine.org

by Joseph Bolden

Night And DaY Transformed

Just when I think this world and people cannot get any better something affirms
"Keep Your Head Up,
Hold On,Keep The Faith Baby.

I have not eaten since mid Monday, ignoring radio/tv pundants purposely until the next President is chosen.

Rent paid using my E.B.T. card (always forget what the initials mean, its my food card and not General Assistance check combined).

I don’t like it but you deal with change or change deal with you.

While paying rent, saving what I can, and preparing to see my worker in a day or two this Presidential race drifted in and out of focus until Tuesday, Nov. 2, 2008.

Early up to vote and not hear or see talking heads back to looking for stuff to take to my G.A. worker.

I almost fell asleep before tuning in the radio hearing who is the next President!
“Barack Obama is our 44th President OF The United States.”
WHAT, WHAT, OH MY GOD, THE PEOPLE YOUNG, OLD, RAINBOW HEWED HAD ELECTED NOT SELECTED A NEW PRESIDENT!

I’ve been floating since President Elect Obama’s victory and acceptance speech.

Yes, I didn’t expect to see this in my lifetime but it’s not about me now its young folks and children born and yet to be born who’ll grow up knowing
without a doubt have a Black President hopefully one of many.

Further more it will be not even debated but a given that anyone Fem, Male, whichever religion or sexual orientation will have an equal opportunity to become leader of this land.
There are still hurtles, trials, and problems abound.

It will take all of us as a nation and global humanity to solve them, everyone is
needed to keep striving to find the best in all of us to improve the lives of past, present, and future generations.

If any you listened to my voice on San Francisco Liberation Radio. Net you know there is a lot more I personally want than an election to be won and dreams in to reality flurrish but that’s a quirk uniquely mine and a few other imaginative and brave souls to shad light where ever darkness reins and set ark lights keeping shadow, mist, and dark bleakness forever away.

Now must get back to a pigsty single room occupant apartment and look for important documents needed.

Take care everyone, let us all be...

(I'm borrowing a phrase from an old-young
traveler) some of you may know of his recent return.

Brilliant, open eyes to a new day.

The dawn of many great days to come.

Any comments please send to www.telljoe.com or www.poormagazine.org

by Staff Writer

Practice conscious consumption by purchasing POOR Press publications and art created by youth, adults and elder poverty scholars in residence at POOR Magazine for the holidaze!

POOR Press is a revolutionary art and access project of POOR MAGAZINE aimed at creating access for silenced voices on issues of poverty, racism, disability, child abuse, welfare reform, the Prison Industrial Complex, houselessness, border fascism, gender oppression and media Injustice.

POOR Press is also an economic development project beginning with digital arts, creative writing and design education through POOR's Digital Resistance Program and then aimed at providing a micro-business opportunity for all the very low and no-income youth, adults and elder writers and artists of POOR Magazine.

WHEN: November 11, 7pm

WHERE: MODERN TIMES BOOKSTORE

888 VALENICA STREET, SAN FRANCISCO, CA 94110

by Thornton X/PNN Poverty Scholar in residence

I want to write like Studs Terkel did for over 40 years. He more-or-less practiced Poor Magazine’s "I"-focused journalism, and knew how to get out of the way and let the experience of the people he interviewed speak to readers of books like: Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day And How They Feel About What They Do, and Race: How Blacks and Whites Think and Feel About the American Obsession.

No one knows Terkel’s interview style for his books, but he made editing and writing look easy; the mark of a great writer it looks like any idiot can do it! I know better. Writing is a discipline demanding daily dues paid up front. It is all too easy to Not Write, while the pen and keyboard are there, always ready to put my thoughts where someone else might read them.

Terkel was also a television pioneer and a survivor of the McCarthy-dominated 50’s television and radio blacklists, running a variety/interview show called Stud’s Place from 1950-1952, canceled after NBC tried to get him to sign a paper stating he was duped into signing petitions for progressive causes. Late in 1952 Terkel heard Woodie Guthrie singing on WFMT radio station in Chicago, he called and began a 45-year career there, essentially inventing the radio talk show and honing the "invisible interviewer" mode of editing found in his books.

There are many practitioners of that style, including my favorite, the Oakland, CA-based science fiction/fantasy/horror/mystery author interview/book review magazine called Locus.

Terkel’s tombstone epitaph is Curiosity Didn’t Kill This Cat. True, it drove him to live 96 good years, listening to everyone who would talk to him.

by Adrienne Aguirre/PNN Race, Poverty Media Justice Intern

Mire al fondo para español

one of the first things we learn to do
is move
its what we do

movement is embedded in our existence
strung on the chords of our DNA songs of resilience

SO AS WE EXIST
WE MOVE
SO WE CAN EXIST...
an excerpt from Migrant Movement a poem by freddy gutierrez

There’s something exhilarating about Halloween. The air is different, charged with an electric current, and this breathable voltage makes anything seem possible. Taking a deep breath, I’m filled with the feeling an all-or-nothing gambler gets when victory is imminent, despite all the odds. It is a day of transformation, where the janitor strolls the Embarcadero in Super Mario overalls, a restaurant worker struts by in checkerboard mod, and where victimized youth don the skeletal, war-painted faces of their ancestors to fight for the safety and wholeness of their families.

For these youth, Halloween doesn’t mean candy and frivolous costume parties; today, dressed head-to-toe in black, they simultaneously mourn and fight against the abuse inflicted by ICE, Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the agency that has been terrorizing their mothers and fathers and destroying their families.

Two brown, white, and black faces meet mine.

"Excuse me, do you know where the ICE protest is?" "Yeah, two blocks down that way, to your left," one of the skeletons tells me, her brown hand pointing me in the right direction. Thanking her, I move briskly towards Ferry Park.

ICE, formally known as the INS, is the government titan responsible for the devastation of brown families, arrest of immigrant mothers and fathers, and unspeakable brutality against impoverished labor under the guise of "gang control." Approaching Ferry Park, a shifting black mass overtakes the green. An army of black bodied skeletons, an ocean of black, brown, and white, slapping palms and patting backs, hums in rhythmic solidarity.

We form a circle on the green, a symbol of unity and wholeness. The emcee takes the mic, inviting stragglers to join the ranks of the resistance.

I hear a girl on the phone near me, "Yo, where my Frisco peeps at? They’re stuck on BART, they won’t let them through!"

Though outraged at the impediment of their youth allies, those present hardly seem surprised. Time freezes for a moment, faces searching other faces for a solution to this obstacle. The girl moves away from the circle, phone still perched on her ear.

The circle focuses.

"We didn’t cross the borders. The borders crossed us!"

"Abajo con ICE!"

"Que queremos? JUSTICIA! Cuando? AHORA!"

Five young men take center circle, carrying a large drum with them. A hundred fists thrust upward. The steady drumbeat lifts their voices into the autumn air. Listening, my mind drifts back, remembering the story of my father.

My father, a Political Science and Law professor in the Philippines, was stripped of his education upon arrival to the United States. Years of education and experience meant nothing in comparison to his brown skin, landing him a low-paying job as a paint carrier at a local mechanic shop. Recounting his experiences, he recalls not only his inadequate wages but also being the subject of psychological abuse.

"He pointed a loaded gun at you?!" I exclaimed.

The wealthy owner of the mechanic shop apparently felt the need to prove his manhood from time to time and, threatened by my father’s 6’1 presence, his dad became the target.

"My father’s brown skin proved a barrier throughout his search for employment, denying him access to the teaching jobs he loved; my dad was forced to adjust his resume, essentially dumbing himself down in order to obtain employment. He was always either overqualified or underqualified. His educational attainment and experience could not outweigh his immigrant status and brownness."

A cheer goes up from the crowd, bringing me out of my reverie.

"Who’s got the power? The youth have the power!"

"Who’s got the power? WE got the power!"

The youth have arrived, despite the efforts of law enforcement to detain them on BART. A new wave of energy washes over the resistance. The small park is overflowing now, generations strong against the injustices of ICE. The circle expands, welcoming the new additions to the movement. The mic travels from youth to youth, a common thread of justified anger and passionate dissent linking the beautiful words the youth offer their ancestors, mothers, and fathers. The mic listens intently, amplifying these sentiments for the rest of us to hear.

These words of power send us on our way, the march is beginning.

Faces press against the glass eyes of the concrete and steel giants looming over us on either side. Office workers point and whisper to each other as we wind down the streets of downtown San Francisco, a river of bodies rushing towards our final destination: the ICE building. This river teems with life, signs reading "MELT THE ICE!" held high, bobbing to the beat of the liberation.

"Ain’t no power like the power of the people ‘cause the power of the people don’t stop!"

Espanol Sigue:

una de las primeras cosas que aprendemos a hacer
es mover
es lo que hacemos

movimiento está incrustado en nuestra existencia
ensartado en los acordes de nuestra DNA

Canciones de la Resistencia

Existimos
Realizando movimientos
Para poder existir ...
……un extracto de Movimiento de Migrantes un poema por Freddy Gutiérrez

Hay algo emocionante acerca de Halloween. El aire es diferente, cargado con una corriente eléctrica, transpirable y esta tensión hace cualquier cosa parecer posible. Tomando una profunda respiración, estoy llena de la sensación que obtiene un jugador cuando la victoria es inminente, a pesar de todas las probabilidades. Es un día de transformación, donde se ven trabajadores caminando por Embarcadero en overoles Super Mario, mesera de restaurante vestida de tablero mod, y donde los jóvenes víctimas se visten en trajes esqueléticas, la pintura de guerra en sus rostros honrando sus antepasados para luchar por la seguridad y la integridad de sus familias.

Para estos jóvenes, Halloween no significa dulces y fiestas frívolas de disfrazes; hoy, vestidos de cabeza a los pies de negro, honran sus ancestros y luchan contra los malos tratos infligidos por ICE, la agencia que ha estado aterrorizando a las madres y los padres para la destrucción de familias migrantes.

Dos caras cafes, una blanca y una negra se enfrentan a mí.

"Perdone, ¿sabe usted dónde es la protesta de ICE?"

"Sí, dos cuadras abajo esa direccion, a su izquierda," uno de los esqueletos me dice, su mano de color cafe me apunta en la dirección correcta. Agradeciendo a ella, paso rápidamente hacia Ferry Park.

ICE, formalmente conocido como el INS, es el titan del gobierno responsable de la devastación de las familias migrantes, la detención de inmigrantes de las madres y los padres, y de inenarrable brutalidad contra la pobreza laboral con el pretexto de justificacion de "control de pandillas". Acerco a Ferry Park, una masa de negro supera el parque verde. Un ejército de esqueletos de cuerpos negros, un océano de negro, marrón y blanco, protestando en una forma rítmica en la solidaridad.

Formamos un círculo en el campo, símbolo de la unidad y la solaridad. El emcee toma el micrófono, invitando a los rezagados a unirse a las filas de la resistencia.

Oigo a una chica en el teléfono cerca de mí, "Yo, adonde estan mi gente de Frisco? Están atrapados en BART, no les permiten pasar"

A pesar de su indignación por el impedimento de la joven y sus aliados, los presentes apenas parecieron sorprendidos. Tiempo se congela durante un momento, se enfrenta a otro y se enfrenta a la búsqueda de una solución a este obstáculo. La niña se aleja del círculo, teléfono encaramado en su oreja.

El círculo se centra.

"Nosotros no cruzamos la frontera. Las frontera nos cruzo a nosotros!"

"Abajo con ICE!"

"Que queremos? JUSTICIA! Cuando? AHORA!"

Cinco hombres jóvenes tomaron el círculo central con un gran tambor. Un centenar de puños empujaron hacia arriba. El constante ritmo ascenso sus voces en el otoño de aire. Escucho, mi mente se deriva atrás, recordando la historia de mi padre.

Mi padre, un profesor de Ciencias Políticas y Leyes en las Filipinas, fue despojado de su educación a su llegada a los Estados Unidos. Años de educación y la experiencia significaba nada en comparación con su piel morena, dando le un trabajo de bajo pago como transportista de pintura en un taller mecánico local. Recuento de sus experiencias, el recuerda no sólo su insuficiencia de los salarios, sino también ser objeto de malos tratos psicológicos.

"Señaló una arma cargada a usted?" Yo exclame.

El rico propietario de la tienda mecánica aparentemente sintio la necesidad de probar su hombría de vez en cuando por que se sentia amenazado por la presencia mi padre que media 6'1, mi padre se convirtió en el objetivo.

"La piel morena de mi padre hizo una barrera a lo largo de su búsqueda de empleo, negándole el acceso a la enseñanza de puestos de trabajo que amaba, mi padre se vio obligado a ajustar su resume, esencialmente olvidando sí mismo en el fin de obtener un empleo. Fue siempre demasiado calificado o no calificado . Su nivel de estudios y la experiencia no puede pesar más que su condición de inmigrante y su piel".

Una alegría sube de la multitud, con lo que me forzo fuera de mi ensoñación.

"¿Quién tiene el poder? Nosotros tenemos el poder!"

"¿Quién tiene el poder? Nosotros tenemos el poder!"

Los jóvenes han llegado, a pesar de los esfuerzos de la policia para detenerlos en BART. Una nueva ola de energía se lava más en la resistencia. El pequeño parque es desbordante ahora, las generaciones fuerte contra las injusticias de la ICE. El círculo se expande, acoge con satisfacción las nuevas incorporaciones a la circulación. El micrófono de jóvenes viaja a la juventud. Un hilo común de la justificada ira y la pasión que une el disenso y las bellas palabras de los jóvenes que ofrecen a sus antepasados, sus madres y padres. El micrófono escucha intensamente, amplificando estos sentimientos para que el resto de nosotros escuchemos.

Estas palabras de poder nos envio en nuestro camino, la marcha á comenzado.

Rostros de prensa contra el vidrio, los ojos gigantes del hormigón y del acero se ciernan sobre nosotros. trabajadores de oficina susurran el uno al otro como el viento por las calles del centro de la ciudad de San Francisco, un río de cuerpos creados en virtud de prisa hacia nuestro destino final: el edificio de ICE. Este río lleno de vida, los signos de lectura "Derritimos el ICE!" en alto, al ritmo de la liberación.

"No es ningún poder como el poder del pueblo porque el poder de la gente no se detiene!"

by Adrienne Aguerrre/Race, Poverty, Media Justice Intern

It was the first cold Sunday the Mission had seen in weeks. The bilingual
language of resistance, unrest, and revolution drifted down the escalator
shaft at the 16th and Mission BART station, causing me to quicken my
step.

How little things have changed.

Emerging from the station, I see a few familiar faces amongst the modest crowd of people gathered in the small square, all listening attentively to the woman speaking at the microphone. Signs screaming "Affordable housing,living wages, and universal healthcare!" in black ink titter above the
heads in the crowd, jittery before beginning the short march to 24th and
Mission. The white paper of the signs is just barely discernable against
the dirty white of the San Francisco sky.

The weather reads my mood, chilled, tense. I don't know these people, I
have never shared their experiences, and yet here I am, picket sign in
tow, in solidarity with the exploited masses. I, who have had healthcare,
housing, and enough to eat all of my life, joined this fight for justice
at the baby fat age of 12.
As a 12 year old, knowing absolutely nothing about modern art, I really
had no business wandering around SF MOMA that day.

What I saw, however,
and the immeasurable pain it caused me, has been etched into my psyche
ever since. I remember the exhibit, the words of suffering and anguish
scrawled across blood red walls next to the photos of their authors. People forced from their homes into desperate poverty, prostitution, and drug use, sleeping next to dumpsters on makeshift cardboard mattresses. They all watched me with hollow eyes as I read their apologies, their pleas for help, and their disappointed dreams.

We're marching now, past doorways where indigenous voices unite with our own, where chants of "Si se puede!" ring proud from all sides. These eyes are not hollow but tired: tired of being unappreciated, of working for slave wages, of being cast aside as a subhuman source of cheap labor. I
can feel the restlessness, the desire to march with us overpowered because
these workers are simply too strapped for cash.

It's Sunday but for these people, there is no such thing as a day of rest. Some marchers pause to say hello to the friends and family they protest for, giving them quick handshakes and warm embraces. Though few, we are loud, a single united voice marching along on centipede legs. Approaching
our destination, more familiar faces greet us, more tired eyes meet our
own. As the speaker from United Healthcare for Workers takes the mic, I
remember the messages of hopelessness and despair on the walls of SF MOMA.

Not here.

This kind of despair demands to be addressed. Here, the power lies in the
hands of the victims, where those who can't afford to be housed, to have healthcare, or even to take a day off from work to march on a Sunday can educate the public about what's really been going down. Karl Kramer, a
member of the SF Living Wage Coalition, described the rally as a "beginning," a "movement to overturn the current conditions." Bob
Offer-Westort, from the Coalition of Homelessness, put emphasis on unity,
pointing out that those without access to jobs and low-wage laborers are
affected by a lot of the same conditions and need to join forces in order
to effect change.

Ten years later, the depression has lifted. I no longer see those in
poverty as weak or powerless. I realize now, the artist's depiction of
the poor and homeless did them no justice; the artist responsible for the
exhibition in SF MOMA ten years past neglected to reveal the strength and
will to survive so necessary to those in poverty. It is precisely this reason why my presence is necessary at this rally, precisely why I choose to help the resistance. I am a person of privilege, yes, but this
immeasurable strength, this consequence of injustice, cannot be ignored.