Story Archives

Capitalism pushes the cult of individualism. But true wealth comes from family, connectedness and giving (and that doesn't mean presents...).


I hold the world…
or try to…
 
on my broken back ..

I have carried worlds and toasters –
the guts of a hundred evictions, couches and king-sized beds
and everything else- 
…on my broken back

I have carried the love of some people and the disdain of others
the hate of a thousand landlords, welfare workers,  
and a few hundred angry creditors..
and my broken family….
….on my broken back….

— excerpt from My broken back by tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia

Interdependence – what is it really? In a capitalistic society raised on the cult of independence and the notion that an individual's personal advancement are the most important thing to strive for, how can we really comprehend — or more importantly, practice — true interdependence?What are our personal models of interdependence? And as we approach the co-opted and colonized Christmas holidaze — or what I now have dubbed Capitalismas — how will those of us trying to be practitioners of interdependence translate some sense of spirit and true care-giving to our families and communities?

Mine is a story of survival common to many families subsisting in poverty all over the world. My mother was a poor woman of color who was one paycheck away from homelessness.  When she lost her job and became disabled it was necessary that I drop out of school in the sixth grade, at age 11, so I could work to support us. Contrary to Western (US) capitalist standards where healthy families are made up of individuals whose personal advancement and fulfillment are considered paramount, I am honored that I could help my family, that I could help my mother, and like poor children all over the world, I am aware that without my help she would not have made it.

I learned by default that the core concept of interdependence is sacrifice, sacrifice not for ones' self, but for others —not in a minimal, time limited, "I've got to go on with my life, you are holding onto me, holding me up, or just plain holding me" kinda way — but in a selfless, "I love you, you raised me, you are my elder, my child, I am there for you" way.

These values didn't come to me easily, for the first part of my life I was raised on US television, US schools, washed re-visionist, Euro-centric history perpetrating US values of independence, ageism, separation, and individualism  It wasn't until my early twenties when I was blessed to study with ethnic studies scholars that I began to articulate my values about family and togetherness, eldership and care-giving, to realize that my struggle to care for my mom by any means necessary could be viewed as resistance and heroism, or just plain normal.  It was here that I started to claim my own voice.

Everything began to re-defined, rooted out and examined, especially notions of mental and community health.  I re-examined my own organic decision to care for my mama as an adult within new contexts: From a western psycho-therapeutic perspective, my mom suffered from a mental illness. But from the perspective of almost every non-western culture from Asia to Africa and all in between, nobody is ever left alone, the way they are in the U.S.  Here, alone-ness, "independence" is valued as a virtue, a strength, a form of normalcy, a barometer for sanity — whereas in other cultures togetherness, the group, the collective, is the norm. So, from a non-western belief system — or "deep structure" as they say in Black psychology — did my mama really have a mental illness, was there even such an "illness" I wondered, or did we as a society have an insane and twisted notion of what sanity was? Perhaps my mother's worst problem was that she had no extended family. 

The Homefulness Project at POOR Magazine was born from the struggle and resistance of a poor people-led/indigenous people-led movement to self-determination and has been built on our indigenous values of  intergenerational teaching and sharing, eldership, and interdependence. These are revolutionary concepts within a US capitalist,individualistic system.

A system based on dominant US culture alone inhibits community love and care-giving, pathologizes togetherness as co-dependence, perpetuates isolation, and at best, ghettoizes people in need, people alone, people no longer seen as productive. And just in case you are fraught with any kind of pain or guilt for your lack of caring, involvement or sacrifice for your elders or family, you can resolve it with a Capitalismas gift 

To truly comprehend, integrate and practice interdependence, we must look into our own lives, families and communities. Are you encouraging or enabling, even if by default, an elder in your life to be incarcerated in a senior ghetto or have separated yourself from your children's lives and/or education? Are you making decisions based solely on what fits with your time, your future, your success?  And finally, at this time of year when we are supposedly filled with some sense of spirit and love rooted in an indigenous, Christian, Jewish, or pagan tradition, the most important question remains:  What, if any, connections, efforts or real sacrifices, are you making in your life for others?

Tiny aka Lisa Gray-Garcia, poverty scholar, poet, lecturer, revolutionary journalist, daughter of Dee and mama of Tiburcio is the co-founder of POOR Magazine and the author of Criminal of Poverty: Growing Up Homeless in America, published by City Lights Foundation.

Read about Homefulness- launched on the values of Inter-Dependence more: http://www.poormagazine.org/homefulness

English follows...

Por el trabajo que hacemos, yo creo que ya es  tiempo de que  nos tomen en cuenta  y que hagan una ley  que nos ayude  a todos. Pues hay muchas personas que trabajan más  de la cuenta. Los empleadores prometen cierta cantidad  luego no les cumplen. Yo digo esto porque apenas unos días  atrás me entere de la ley que paso en Nueva York. Por fin se dieron cuenta que todos tenemos derechos.

Esta  es mi propia experiencia. Una vez alguien me contrato para limpiar su casa. Prometió pagarme  más de 100 dólares. Yo me sentí  feliz porque necesitaba  dinero para el gasto de mis hijos pero sentí  como si me hubiera  caído una lluvia de  hielo cuando me pago la siguiente vez Me dio la mitad de lo que  me prometió. Esta gente abusa porque somos personas sencillas. Ellos creen que porque somos amables no nos damos cuenta de sus abusos. Hay gente que tiene miedo de decir lo que los empleadores les hacen. Yo solo estoy esperando. ¿Qué piensa hacer esta persona conmigo? Pues  estoy trabajando para él. ¡Pero si no me paga lo que me prometió, yo tomare otras medidas. El no sabe que yo me  gradué  de defensora legal en LA RASA centro legal! ¡Se mis derechos!

Pero cuesta mucho. Se te hace muy difícil, no pagan tiempo extra, te dicen vas a cuidar niños y terminas hasta bañando al perro. Te quedas callado(a) porque muchas veces has tenido  una amistad,  con él o ella. Eso hace que se aprovechen de ti. Ya por favor  tenemos que perder el miedo y denunciemos a estos  patrones abusadores. ¡No nos demos por  vencidos! Luchemos para que aquí también haiga  una ley que nos proteja como a los trabajadores  domésticos de Nueva York que por 75 años lucharon para  lograr esta ley que es perfecta. Así ya no habría maltratos y abusos que lamentablemente mucha  gente sufre.

Hasta hoy  día  nadie lo sabe. Por miedo nunca le decimos a nadie. Preferimos callar y sufrir lo que nos pasa pues  a veces nuestra misma Rasa se burla de nosotros o nos conformamos con lo que nos dan siempre decimos algo es algo peor es nada. No es justo que esto siga pasando en nuestra ciudad. En ves que nos ayuden nos  discriminan, esto duele y no nos ayuda en nada. Por eso yo quiero que nos unamos para lograr una ley que nos proteja y nos beneficie a todos. Sigamos en la lucha, no nos demos por vencidos hasta lograr que  nuestro trabajo sea reconocido como cualquier otro trabajo. ¡Así que compañeros  a luchar!

Ingles sigue...

For the work that we do I think that it is time that we are acknowledged and a law be created that would help us all.  There are many people that are overworked. Employers are promising a certain pay but are not following through.  Just a few days ago I became aware of a law that was passed in New York.  Finally there was an acknowledgment that we all have rights. 

This is a story of one of my own experiences.  One day someone contracted me to clean their home.  They promised to pay me more than $100 dollars. I was filled with happiness because I needed the money to pay for expenses for my children.  When they ended up only paying me half of what they promised I felt as though a ice storm was falling on my head. These people abuse us because we are a simple people. They think that because we are nice people that we don't notice their abuse.  There are people who are afraid to talk about what their employers do to them. I am only waiting, and thinking 'What does this person think they will do with me?'. Well I am working for him, but if he doesn't pay me what was promised I will take other means to get the full amount.  He doesn't know that I graduated from a legal defense program at La Rasa Legal Center. I know my rights!

The work is very hard. There is no overtime pay, and when they tell you that you will be taking care of the kids, you end up washing the dogs.  A lot of times you stay quite, because a lot of times you are friends with her or him.  That is a way that they take advantage of you. It is time that we stop being scared and denounce these abusive bosses. Lets not give up! We must fight that here too they create a law that will protect us like the domestic workers in New York. For 75 years they fought for this law that in my opinion is perfect. With such a law there will be less mistreatment and abuses that unfortunately many people suffer from.  

To this day many people don't know of these abuses. And because of fear we don't tell anyone. We prefer to stay silenced and suffer through what happens to us. In some cases it is our own race that clowns on us. It is unjust that this continues to happen in our city. Instead of helping us they discriminate against us, this hurts and doesn't help us at all.  That is why I want us to unite to achieve a law that would protect us and benefit everyone.  We continue in the fight, we should not give up until we win the acknowledgment of our work like any other job. That is why friends we must fight!

HOUSING FIRST: IF YOU BUILD IT THEY WILL COME ISN'T JUST A SLOGAN

PNNscholar1 - Posted on 08 August 2010

By Bruce Allison and Thornton Kimes
San Francisco has a “Housing First” policy. The (very extended) Patel
family, which owns the vast majority of SRO hotel (Single Room
Occupancy: a.k.a. Poor People Housing) properties in the city, is
spitting in our faces by leaving SRO’s vacant for years. There is one
in the Mission (22nd and Mission, above the Ritmo music store, with 40
units), and one in SOMA—the already earthquake code-improved 100-200
unit four-story Chronicle Hotel (across the street from the
newspaper!) and the retail space under it.
Housing in the city translates into money spent in the city, including
jobs for people staffing SRO hotels; of course, getting the empty
Patel spaces clean and useable as living spaces would also generate
those oh-so-wonderful short-term (a.k.a. temporary) jobs the “job
creators” love to talk about (contractor stuff, construction…) too.
The SRO in the Mission only needs $500,000 (current costs) to be
returned to service. The electrical wiring is up to code. Sinks and
bathrooms would need to be installed. The SOMA space, abandoned for 20
years, used to have a blood plasma donation center on the ground
floor. Bruce and Thornton remember it well. A lot more money would
need to be sunk into it to make it liveable.
City services, funded by local, state, and federal taxes, would not be
strained by an effort made to maximize housing for poor people, the
tax base would be improved by it. This modest proposal would take
approximately 200 people off the streets. More would be better.

*Note from POOR Magazine Co-Editor Tony Robles

This fantastic poem was written by my cousin Kyra Bowes, a youth scholar living in New Jersey.  Kyra is a poet, songwriter, and dancer. She and her mother Leslie Yngojo-Bowes visited POOR Magazine recently.  Kyra  graciously demonstrated her dancing to our children in POOR Magazine's Family project.  The children followed her moves, step building upon step--flowing beautifully to the music coming from not only the radio, but from our ancestors who live in our sacred space at POOR Magazine--including the spirit of our Uncle Al, whose presence is strong.   I am very proud of Kyra. Her poem demonstrates the values of POOR Magazine:  honoring family, eldership and remembering--values that come from poetry, the life's blood of POOR Magazine.

I am From

By Kyra Bowes

Camping trips

And shopping sprees.

Soccer games

And tennis tourneys.

Dancing

Singing

Writing,

That’s me.

Drawing every little thing I see.

I am from a great line of activists.

Half are peacemakers.

And others use iron fists.

Travelers from around the world.

Coming here to speak their voice.

Having to make their own right choice.

I come from Veterans.

Accountants.

And activists.

Dancers.

Singers.

And artists.

In blood their talents sit.

In my heart, their light is lit.

They’ve lead.

Sang.

Danced.

And inspired the world.

From Germany to England.

From China to Japan.

Spain to The Philippines.

Around the world, it seems I’ve seen.

Traditions from all over.

Joining my cousins playing red rover.

Houses painted white.

With little picket fences.

Barns on a field.

With animals trotting the grounds.

I am from sayings like

“Stand up for what’s right.”

To

“No texting past midnight.”

From my brother yelling

“No dating till eighty-five.”

To my daddy saying

“Take a risk, learn how to dive.”

My great Uncle, may he rest in peace.

“Don’t cry for me.

Don’t think I am gone.

I am here, for whatever is right and wrong.

I am not dead.

For I am still living,

In your hearts,

And mind,

And soul.”

I come from a symbolized family.

Gay rights and the lord.

Farmers driving tractors.

Others in a ford.

I come from hard wooden-floors.

With a red little rug.

In the cabinets,

You’d see a “#1 Daddy” mug.

This is who I am.

This is how my family is and forever will be.

If you don’t like them.

Then you don’t like me(: