Story Archives

by Barbara Lee

In the last fifty years, we have seen many of society*s barriers come down.
The color line and the glass ceiling haven*t disappeared, but they are
diminished. We have enacted important laws that helped stretch the social
safety net, such as Medicare and Medicaid. The Americans with Disabilities
Act marked a landmark victory in the struggle for access and equal
opportunity.

But there are still too many obstacles blocking full inclusion in American life
for those with developmental disabilities and their families.

Inclusion embraces both independence and integration. The work you all do
to advance inclusion is so important because it is so fundamental: it*s about
making people*s lives better.

It*s about improving schools and opening classrooms. It*s about jobs. It*s
about family support. It*s about the recreation and socialization
opportunities that enrich life. It*s about access to comprehensive healthcare
and the elimination of artificial boundaries that say that illnesses of the mind
are uninsurable.

Life can throw you curves. But everybody has a right to stand at the plate
and take their swings. Everybody deserves to get in the game.

Too many people, though, are still shut out. Access and integration are
justly considered civil rights issues.

Furthermore, access and integration for everyone is in all our interests. We
all benefit when people enter our workforce and join our economy, and we
all lose when they are shut out. Isolation carries heavy economic, social, and
psychological costs.

We can do more at the federal level to help. We should pass Medicaid
reform so that those facing long-term disabilities have a greater element of
choice in their treatment and so they can utilize community resources and
maintain their independence and dignity at home. I am a cosponsor of this
bill, and I believe we need to maximize choice rather than bureaucracy.

We*ve made some progress. Two years ago, Congress passed the
Developmental Disabilities Act to provide grant money to state and
nonprofit community programs.

But Congress hasn*t provided full funding for the Act, and in this year*s
budget, the President didn*t request any money at all for family support
services. I hope this is not an example of compassionate conservatism.

Family support, as all of you are all too aware, is crucial. It needs to be part
of a network of services that promise inclusion rather than isolation.

The federal government should also fulfill its promises to fund special
education, which currently represents a crushing financial burden for many
school districts. We must fully fund I.D.E.A.

Integration and inclusion should be hallmarks of that educational effort. We
cannot let special education remain a bastion of legal segregation.

Healthcare is also a critical component of our federal effort. Healthcare is
not a luxury. It should be a matter of human rights, not corporate profits.

Forty-four million Americans have no health insurance. That*s a national
tragedy. Medicare does not cover prescription drugs; neither do a growing
number of health plans in California and nationwide.

Improving healthcare also demands increasing our investment in research.

We need to understand why autism rates are climbing, for example, and
what we can do about it.

We need to understand the relationship between toxins in our environment
and the impact on our bodies and our brains.

Tackling this problem requires real enforcement of the Clean Air Act and
other federal environmental laws and demands a renewed investment in
scientific research. Children are especially vulnerable, and these problems
cannot wait.

These issues are not negotiable, they are fundamental to our personal and
national well being.

Developmental disabilities have to be part of this agenda, and inclusion must
be our ultimate goal.

These issues represent national challenges, but they are also local realities. It
is at the community level where many of the daily struggles for inclusion will
be won.

Here in the East Bay, we are still wrestling with these questions, but also
making advances.

The Ed Roberts Campus in Berkeley will be one such advance as a center
of learning but also a center of economic and social vitality and accessibility.
In Washington, I will continue to work to secure funding for the Center*s
construction because I understand how big a difference it will make in
people*s lives.

It will stand as a fine tribute to a great man who refused to let barriers get in
his way. It wasn*t enough for Ed himself to make it; he then proceeded to
spend much of his life tearing those barriers down so they wouldn*t impede
the progress of others.

And your work at the Councils is in this spirit. Your coordination of
resources among the regional service providers, your advocacy, and your
education efforts are vital to this community.

We have come a long way in our quest for accessibility, independence, and
inclusion, but we still have a ways to go. I have enormous respect for all of
you who are leading this effort.

Let me leave you with the words of Supreme Court Justice William
Brennan, who wrote "that society*s accumulated myths and fears about
disability and disease are as handicapping as are the physical limitations that
flow from actual impairment."

I would extend his analysis to developmental disabilities as well. With each
and every victory you achieve, with every barrier that you tear down, you
also tear down another myth, another misunderstanding about disabilities.

Thank you for your good work and thank you for inviting me here tonight.

by Carol Harvey

Helped by her friend, Scott Bravmann, Carolin Jack has escaped the fluorescent glare of the Disney Store on Union Square moving three blocks away to a clean, well-lighted room South of Market in downtown San Francisco. 

I visited for a May 7 housewarming.  A lovely afternoon sun beamed onto the soft rug.  A tiny tiger bounced over my feet into the kitchenette crying for food in a nearly human voice.  Then Carolin's "little girl," ran to her place below the sunlit window and sat regarding her, Scott and myself in bemused surveillance.  Carolin said, "She's phasing herself in here very cautiously, not quite sure how she feels about it."

This was the home Carolin hoped, worked, and saved for the last five years.

Carolin sat on her bedroll in the corner, her colorful blankets and comforter neatly folded.  Her sleeping/living room and kitchen, with TV set and chair, are clean and tidy.  A dentist who gave her a raincoat may get her a real bed.

Carolin said she washed with alcohol wipes for a year without the luxury of a bath.   Scott smiled, "She finished a bottle of bubble bath in two days."  Though she was always clean, her skin had kept that  "grimy" look a homeless person can't quite wash off.  "Water felt odd to my skin," she said, looking well-scrubbed and comfortable.

I never saw her without headgear, her tasseled wool hat and earmuffs warding off the wind.  Her face looked thinner, more relaxed, her eyes brighter, her color high.

Out of her wheelchair, Carolin scooted on hands and knees across the rug moaning with osteoarthritis.  This week she fell down a flight of stairs lifting her wheelchair to the elevator, the reasons Scott chose this apartment.  He looked askance describing the realtor's discouraging words, "The front elevator is broken a lot."

Scott talks animatedly of jumping a series of rental agent's barriers which made Carolin's move-in hard.

When I met Scott on Union Square, he played with the cats quietly, boyish and reserved, wary of me.  Today he was animated, outgoing, and informative.  He seemed pleased with this accomplishment.

Looking at Scott's happy face, I flashed to another day in the past at Griffith Park in L.A. I recalled the impassive mug of a large man who grabbed at my bike as I plummeted downhill past his broken VW Bug.  He needed wheels.  I was an object.  His was the face of cruelty: Flat, expressionless, inhuman.

Scott's kind face was warm and communicative, open and trusting.  I told him he was my hero.  He said, "It's what a normal person would do." 

Scott's alarm grew in February during the hard rains. Harassed by police, hauled to Court on Quality of Life crimes for sidewalk sleeping, cats impounded by Animal Care and Control, Carolin was living in a group of five.  Her "protectors" stole $800.00 panhandled dollars she saved for rent.

Scott found three apartments on Craig's list.  This one offered a two weeks' free rent special.  Move-in costs included $725.00 first month's rent and a month's rent deposit plus $225.00.  Animals were allowed.  There was a ground floor elevator.  The tub and protective buzzer system were bonuses.  "Carolin said 'Yes" without hesitation."

In the open rental market, the building had 5 or 6 vacancies.  "The elevator's cramped, and the neighborhood's not the greatest," said Carolin.

Scott presented himself and his credentials, dropping off the application with excellent credit report attached.  He has a PhD and a good job.  ("I only flaunt my PhD when I need to impress somebody.")   They said, "If your friend's homeless, you can co-sign."  His income plus Carolin's $800 a month Social Security was enough.  He never concealed she was homeless, and that her disability mandated an wheelchair accessible elevator. 

They claimed 24 hours to process the application.  The agent didn't call back.  "During the first week they several times changed their story about why I didn't have the apartment."   The agent confessed if it wasn't for Scott, there would be no problem.  They said they couldn't verify Carolin's income. 

Scott was relentless.  He was going to research Disability rights.    Finally, they said, "The problem is we haven't met Carolin."  Scott said, "Why does the big corporate entity have to meet her?  But, okay, we'll play by their rules."

The agent kept him and Carolin waiting an hour in her wheelchair outside the building.  He phoned on his cell complaining Market was full of marchers protesting the anti-Israel West Bank occupation.  He couldn't drive six blocks from 3th to 9th street.  "The underground would have taken 7 minutes," said Scott.  "He could have somersaulted here faster."

On arrival, the agent warned, "You can't have all your friends live here." and, "Will you be storing things?"  Homeless people provide crash pads for their friends and, of course, collect junk. 

He turned to leave.  Scott said, "Aren't you going to let her look at the apartment?" 

When a friend wheeled a shopping cart with Carolin's belongings, the manager, disturbed by the man's appearance, complained the cart was scuffing up his lobby.  Scott said, "I informed him the ceramic floor was harder than rubber wheels and could not be damaged."  The manager also suggested Carolin's friend banged her wheelchair against the narrow passageway wall and knocked plaster loose.

"When I put something on the windowsill, the manager bangs on my door, peeking in to see if there are people in here," said Carolin, "or whether I'm tossing my keys to a friend outside."

The buzzer system only opens one of the two locked front doors, so, if the elevator isn't working, Carolin can't get down to let people in.  She betrays concern that she is not safe from her thieving "friends," comforted that the double buzzer system means, "You can't get into this building easily."

Carolin knows she can't pay rent and live on $800 a month.  An agency provided $600 from emergency funds.  They are applying to other agencies.  Scott has got her food stamps . 

Without an ambulatory "respectable" benefactor fronting the money and running  "interference," a disabled homeless person would not stand a chance of charging the gauntlet to get themselves housed. Carolin has that person in a hero named Scott Bravman. 

by Connie Lu/PNN Media Intern

My ears guide me towards the bass echoing from the
music at the Holistic Health Festival, as I walk up
the street towards Precita Park on a beautiful and
relaxing Saturday afternoon. The park itself is
encompassed by a mosaic of colorful houses that fit
tightly against each other and an elementary school
with an amazing mural filled with life and a sense of
community. As I step onto the field, I see tables
along the edges of the park with vendors, art, crafts,
food, and various community organizations to promote
the importance of having a healthy body. I am sitting
on the grass now and soaking in the rich warmth of the
sun. The wind is blowing its cool breeze in keeping
the perfect temperature and there are children are
running freely with everyone gathered to enjoy a
peaceful, healthy day at the Holistic Health Festival.

The stage is set up at the front of Precita Park for
various musical and poetic performances. I arrive to hear the performances already in progress with JenRo, a 19-year-old songwriter, takes the stage and begins her
song called, "Hold Us Down". She dedicates this song
to the government and the police who are holding the
community down and preventing it from succeeding. Her
voice is strong and powerful, as she clearly
annunciates her rhyme to the rhythm of the break beat.
After her performance, I talked to JenRo briefly. I
asked her when she started to write songs and she
said, "I started writing songs at a young age, but my
first performance was when I was 10-years-old."
Initially, I was uncertain about asking her questions,
but after talking to her I was glad to have met her
because she is very friendly and approachable.

After JenRo's performance, the "Secluded Journalists",
a Hip-Hop crew from Pittsburg and Berkeley, begin
their song called "Faceless". This song is dedicated
to the greed of corporations for money and portrays
the worker as being "faceless" because there is no
recognition given for a job well done. The only thing
that matters to the boss is making money, not the
names of the hard-working employees, who are barely
surviving off each paycheck. The beat of the song is
quick with an underlying melody of a jazzy flute.
Their voices are filled with great strength, as they
roar into the microphones with passion for the words
that flow from their mouths.

The last performance is by "II Sense-Kaotic Souls", an
experimental Hip-Hop crew, whose style is very
different from the "Secluded Journalists" because the
beats that they work with are much slower and more
mellow. The deep, penetrating bass along with the
vast integration of various live instruments emitting
from speakers reflect the creative and talented skills
of the artists that make up this group. One of the
songs they perform is called, "Appreciate", which
relays the message of being thankful because the
number of days in the future are uncertain.

I leave the Health Festival feeling encouraged by the
artists who performed that day. Their desire to
express themselves through spoken words were so strong
and genuine. Each word comes from their hearts that
are deeply rooted in believing what is said through
their poems and songs. I am also reminded of the
essence of health because once my health depletes,
then I am unable to do even the most simple everyday
tasks. My health is the source of my strength.

by Joe. B

Did ‘Bro’, Sis, aunts, uncles, cousins and good friends have fun at “Juneteeth.

”OOPS, didn’t mean to forget single and married mother’s and father’s or same sex mates.

I couldn’t be there because my mom’s birthday way out in a quiet flatland.

Flat, quiet, boring, safe, dull, that’s turning into my kind of kink.

I’m gonna try something a friend had told me to try.

Since my ultimate goal is to sit on my tush, write strange, odd imaginary tales with some facts thrown in just to confuse folks who are reading.

From now on along with my columns which is torture enough for readers as it is - now they’ll pieces of my as yet unpublished works.

The difficult part for me is not knowing if my words are read by publisher(s), editor(s) proofreaders, (of course) Literary Agents, On line publisher(s) or the general readers.

I really hope to get feed back.

A excerpt from “Gifts From Earth.”

Humanity has improved itself over time. With better, improved bodies they still like old fashioned procreation since bodies and brains can exchange cloned ones of various heights, sizes, shapes, nationalities, genetic memories is mandatory.

Immortality is in. Though for some people “Limited Option Life Span are for those individuals seeking “Natural Ends” or death.

That’s it folks, words, a few lines, 1 or 2 paragraphs.

Next time another morsel of “GFE” separate yet in the middle of the column.

It can be somewhat crowded when also placing the House Sit ad also but a guy’s got to make some dead ‘Prez’s somehow... Here’s mine.

Now lets get cracking.

My greatest ambition use to be getting rich showing former highschooler’s circa 1973 what a big wheel I became.

The second thing was rediscovering the fantastic, illusive, and legendary miracle of a natural substance.“The Philosopher’s Stone”

Well I failed at both being bad at math, not knowing enough chemistry, also I never tried to borrow nuclear material to hyper-speed the process of chemical changes if I ever had all the material needed.

You folks know about the stone; after gathering all the materials like triple distilled water, copper.

To literally enable one to be a master of oneself, the cosmos, communicate with other beings on parallel worlds, travel mentally or physically to them.

Maybe see and speak clearly beyond the final curtain of death.

No wonder people, if they discovered it couldn’t stay but had to keep learning with full beam-searchlight illumination upon them.

I missed this century but here’s a new one.

The best I can do now is live, learn, ask questions, take the time if I ever try for that supposedly impossible dream.

I’m a lazy guy but I do see enough ‘tech that might enable many of us to just be more ourselves.

I don’t want much out of life just immortality, space and time travel and illumination all this to for improving myself without killing myself.

At least I don’t have worry about the android/human conflict because we’ll integrate artificial and improved real genes, bio-chip, and nanotechnologies into humanity and we’ll literally marry male and female ‘droids.

So far, aside from this suicidal president, att. General and a few other kooks most of us are sane people trying live through this nuclear madness - and we will.

I hope to be healthy, write my books, invest wisely, maybe rededicate my search for the stone.

But if I succeed how can I help. One way I can see is exploding a silent Knowledge bomb that simultaneously frees minds, repairs bodies and as a reverse disease cure not kill, heal not harm, by touch, breath, sweat, airborne symbiosis, life improving virus would permeate the skin , blood, bone, and brain in a permanent healthy body and mental states.

It seems that is what I would do and in one stroke people would be able to free themselves from their own oppressive governments.

To bad it wasn’t done in the past maybe that’s what I should try something so impossible as that and leave the world until the positive infection as with aids spreads world wide.

Only this and other kinds of radical positives steps can be taken besides dying, killing, being killed...

A call to all the living illuminated, ascended ones.

If you exist and are brothers, sisters, of light this is the time maybe not to reveal yourselves but to free us as many ways as possible...

Now Is The Time To Shine!
If time is given to me the mind/body expansion bomb will be invented, deployed and used to save lives not destroy them... Bye.

HouseCare-Pro Price range:
$25 per day or 100 a week for
1 bdrm. Apt, small House.
4 to 3 bedrooms, $50 to $100 a week,
$5,000 a week for 20 to 40 rm. Homes.
$25,000 by the week or $100,000 for
50 to 100 rm Mansions
Prices are negotiable.
Non drinker, smoker, drugs (unless its aspirin & vitamins)
Not a party animal, Boredom, works me.

For Joe only my snail mail:
PO Box 1230 #645
Market St. San Francisco, CA 94102
Email: askjoe@poormagazine.org

by Dee Gray, Ace Tafoya,tiny, Joseph Bolden and Ashley Adams/PNN

It was a day like any other –I curved my body into a half circle and twisted sideways between the wobbly steering wheel and the broken drivers seat. I breathed a short-lived sigh of relief, I was in……The car that is , better known to some as …the hooptie, the clunker… the tank- it didn’t matter what you called it – it was ours, we had wheels and being that some family members are disabled – and we had far distances to travel - cars were a necessity– but back to today – today we needed to travel to Marin County – San Rafael to be exact – to do an outreach workshop with The Canal Community Center –The Canal was peopled with mostly mono-lingual day laborers residing in a minute yet beautiful raza ghetto known as The Canal district of San Rafael – one of the few very low-income communities in the whole County of Marin- we should know we were one of the poor folk who used to reside there-

After a successful day of outreach and training we "slid" back into the car and headed South on 101 towards San Francisco. The Sun, sky and hills collaborated to form the impenetrable beauty of Marin County. The shocking unrealness of the sky and water became even more clear as we started up the incline leaving Marin City, mostly because if you exceed 45 miles an hour our entire car and its contents begin to violently shake ….

And then… we were there – facing the red steel, black and blue asphalt framed by a bright green expanse of bay.. The Golden Gate Bridge – we sailed across feeling light and momentarily happy until we got close to the toll – oh my god, fear set in- We didn’t have enough for the Bridge toll. Dee and I looked nervously at each other – emptying the contents of our backpacks and bags in tandem. "Well, " Dee proclaimed, "tell them that you don’t have the toll – they will probably just issue a ticket like the Bay Bridge does.."

"Excuse me – we don’t have the toll- " I said to the lady in the toll booth, she looked at me and an odd look of confusion and anger filled her face.

"What do you mean you don’t have the toll?"

"Just what I said, I don’t have the toll.."

"Well I am very sorry but that is not acceptable, everyone has to pay or you don’t get across" and then she looked at me like now I would produce the $3.00 I really must have

"So what do you want me to do?"

" I already told you miss- you need to pay the toll"

We continued to go back and forth like this for a few more minutes until Dee lost patience in the idiocy of the interchange. "Look, we said we don’t have the toll, what do we do now?"

"Well I don’t know, I will have to call my supervisor and you will have to drive over there and talk to a police officer"

A police officer??!! – would this whole thing end up being one of our worst ‘Driving While Poor’ nightmares yet. I scanned my mind for warrants and/or unpaid citations. Was our registration current? I just paid for my insurance. I think its ok ….

"you gals will need to wait here for awhile while we sort this out", this time some police or sheriff like character was loudly yelling into the car. We became truly scared and angry . Were we to be arrested for three dollars ? What would we or could we do and how could we prove to this man that what we had done nothing wrong other than be poor and drive over the Golden Gate Bridge?

"What the Golden Gate Bridge Highway & Transportation Board are doing is trying to force the poor people and working poor out of Marin County," stated John Ortega, the Acting Director of Canal Human and Economic Development Association.

Last month Dee Gray assigned a team of PNN reporters to cover the proposed toll hike of the Golden Gate Bridge, as well as a proposed toll for pedestrians and bicycle riders. The tolls are being rationalized in the mainstream media and by the Bridge board of directors as the way to pay for increased costs of Bridge upkeep and to underwrite public transportation. Due to the fact that we had had first-hand experience with the racist, classist policies of the Golden Gate Bridge we had a feeling the whole story wasn’t being told

We began our media organizing with multiple calls to several agencies that we have worked with in the low-income Canal district and Marin City areas of Marin County to get there feelings on the impact that a bridge toll would have on low-income commuters. The response was clear, in a telephone interview with PNN media intern Ace Tafoya, John Ortega was adamant, "Marin County is one of the most affluent counties in the country. They want to drive out the poor people,". In Marin County, 6.9% of the population are below the poverty level, communities of color make up 16% and persons over 65 years old are 13.5% of the total populace.

Byron Allen, a former resident of Marin City warns, "They (poor people) can’t afford the hike. It’s gonna be an economic impact to them because of their economic disadvantage." Many families of Marin County often share living quarters just to survive month to month. "These people who live in these areas don’t make enough money to handle that increase. This just isn’t right," Bryon Allen says shaking his head in disbelief.

Our next step was to report and "support" at one of the first public information meetings held by The Golden Gate Bridge highway and transportation district which unlike the Bay Bridge and Richmond Bridges is not a public entity supported by sales tax and managed by Caltrans, but rather in the trend of other public spaces and places has become a business with a good ole fashioned profit margin and board of directors.

Armed with a few thought provoking hand-made signs saying things like; Stop Economic Apartheid and Stop making decisions based on rich white folkThe PNN crew of Ace Tafoya, Joseph Bolden, Ashley Adams, Tiny and myself arrived at the San Rafael Community Center on a bright afternoon in June.

The room was large and airy with high redwood beam ceilings and a wall of sliding glass doors. At each corner was an easel with pie charts, graphs and vague statements about "The Cost of Bridge Upkeep" etc. Standing awkwardly in front of each flow chart were a few older men wearing ill-fitting sports jackets.

Dee motioned to start with one of the men in the left-hand corner, " Excuse me, can we ask you a few questions?"

" Sure" he stated pleasantly

" What is your name, what is your position?"

" I am Stanley smith, I am on the Board of Directors for the Bridge"

"So can you just tell us, in the planning of this increase have you thought at all about the impact on poor people?

He smiled again, "We thought of the impact on everyone, Sure of course we have, its how we’re paying to keep the bridge up. We have to keep the bridge there and obviously we haven’t raised any tolls in eleven years, its like when your bread, milk goes up, unfortunately that happens and we just have to raise a toll: because of the security, seismic retrofit, the maintenance of the bridge itself."

"What about the state taking over the bridge; what do you think of that idea?", Dee asked.

Mr. Smith chuckled and shook his head lightly at his own inside joke, "I would recommend anybody who wants the state to take over the bridge - go commute on the Bay Bridge for one week and then come back to Golden Gate Bridge and see if they still want the state to take it over. The Bay Bridge is not a well run bridge. Look every morning on your television the commute is backed up to Portland Oregon maybe. That’s being facetious but ever since we put the Fast Track in we’ve haven’t had a jam-up, look how the Bay Bridge Fast Track went - its just terrible. But we have exceptionally talented people running the bridge so that would be-I say the difference."

"So your saying part of this increase is to cover those exceptional people salaries?"

"Of course part of it is to cover salaries-yes, but the majority of it is gonna go for the maintenance of the bridge"

Mr. Smith went on to relate that he also believed that all those bicycle riders with their $300 hats and $600 bikes could easily afford a toll and that he wishes he could institute a sliding scale toll for poor folks but he wasn’t sure how to do it. We thanked Mr. Smith and moved on to join another very heated conversation.

"All those people, the whole board of directors and no one ever pays to go across the bridge. For the rest of their lives every board director gets a free pass." Dressed in work-pants and loose t-shirt, with the remnants of wood chips still clinging to his boots stood one Bob Dahlgren, public citizen, a new breed of activist which the PNN crew encountered at the Bridge hearings- "contractor as activist" He continued in a clear loud voice, " If that’s not a conflict of interest, I don’t know what is…"

Dee interjected "Board of directors of what?"

Bob answered, " The Golden Gate Bridge District"

"That’s not true", The man that Bob was directing his comments to was wearing one of those odd polyester/nylon jackets, giving him the slight impression of a ship captain , he forced a stiff smile towards Bob and continued, " board Members have free passes to cross the Golden Gate Bridge while they are members of the board of directors, not for the rest of their life."

Dee looked towards Bob again, "Why do you have a problem with that?"

"I don’t believe there’s a set policy, we’ve asked Jane Tarrentino, The Secretary of the Bridge District for the written policy about when the bridge (vote) passes or revoked, who they were given out to and we got no response. The fact is it took us approximately two months to get a Freedom Of Information Act results, there were over 1500 names listed of people that get to go across the bridge for free for the rest of their life."

While Bob was talking – The red jacketed man, who we later discovered was the Bridge Manager, backed himself out of our half-circle. We went on to ask Bob what he thought the impact of these bridge tolls would be on the low-income residents of Marin County

"That I believe is the biggest problem. The so-called Fast Track,program is the only thing they say is available for low-income commuters but of course you have to have a credit card and $35 dollars in your bank account, and when that drops to $30 dollars you are out of the system, plus Fast Track is a privately run company – and we have been unable to get any information on them- " He shook his head in disbelief, " I find it a shame this whole thing… You know-it’s a beautiful bridge, it has a lot to offer but if Cal Trans can run business and keep things under budget – I don’t understand why the Golden Gate Bridge District can’t"

Dee told Bob how she had asked Mr. Smith about the lower fare idea for low-income folks

Bob replied emphatically "There will never be a lower fare, it would only happen if they were backed up against the wall. This thing ( the Golden Gate Bridge) is a revenue maker and strictly revenue.

After speaking to Bob we were all collectively upset and discouraged. We sought out the Bridge manager, who seemed to be standing as far away from us as he could without actually leaving the room. He did not deny or confirm that there would be any special program put in place for low-income commuters, nor that the buses would be affected, rather he continued to state that, " The Board is always happy to listen to feedback from the community on any problems with the Bridge or the public transportation system, and.." he said this next comment while pointing us all in the direction of one of the feedback tables in the room, " if you have want to express your opinion, I would suggest you fill out a comment form, bureaucracies like us pay a lot of attention to paperwork"

After a few more strange minutes in that room, The PNN crew gathered up our Stop Economic Apartheid signs and sidled out. We drove out of the community center parking lot leaving the purple-brown mountains of San Rafael behind us, heading towards San Francisco and……The Golden Gate Bridge..!

"Hey Joe, Ace, Ashley…..do you have a dollar I can borrow?"

To find out about the upcoming finance committee and or meeting of the board of directors call the Golden Gate Bridge Highway & Transportation Board at (415) 455-2000

by Alexandra Cuff/PNN Media Intern

The somber, porcelain sky seemed appropriate and welcoming on the year anniversary of the death of Idriss Stelley. Last Thursday at 5:30pm, I joined scores of people who gathered at 4th and Mission for the healing and celebratory funeral procession which mourned the loss of the recent victims of police violence and celebrated the small victories being won by raising consciousness around this issue. The brightly lit Metreon with itís artificiality and consume! motif proved a contrast to the theme of truth, pain, and revolution of the people gathering outside. In the half hour before 6pm, people from a wide breadth of backgrounds came together to protest the wrongful murder of Idriss Stelly and several other victims of police brutality.

On June 13th 2001, Idriss Stelley, who had a history of mental illness, was shot 26 times inside a Metreon theater. His girlfriend, Summer, had called in a 5150, the police code for someone in psychiatric distress, and the ìhelpî she received was reactionary and unprofessional. The ìhelpî was the murder of her fiance. Since that day, we have seen other examples of unwarranted police violence. Gregory Hooper, Richard Tims, and Richard Rosenberg are other subjects of the epidemic of racial profiling and brutality against the poor and people sufferring from mental illness.

Although it was real that the friends and families of these men were in mourning, the struggle and solidarity of those who showed up on this raw evening seemed the beginning of a victory to me. Among the procession of strollers, bikes, wheelchairs, and walkers were members of the community present to support the resistance of the criminalization of poverty, race, and mental illness. Some of the marchers were silent and crying, others were unfaltering as they chanted demands of justice. During the march to city hall, I met Latino and African Descendant brothers and sisters as well as people from France and Russia. Children walked along drummers who walked among the beautiful paper-mache puppets that were brought along by Art and Revolution.

In the midst of Idriss's family and friends were several folk from the Senior Action Network, PoorNewsNetwork/POOR Magazine, Coalition on Homelessness, SF Indymedia, the October 22 Coalition, Police Watch, and the Police Watch/ Ella Baker Center, the organizer of the event. Sixty to eighty of us marched down Mission, up 5th and then down Market inspired along the way by the voice of Jakada Imani of the Ella Baker Center, by the drummers, and I believe by the common knowledge that justice comes not from the court but from the noise in the streets. From the Metreon to the steps of city hall, the SFPD stood by close and powerless. When I asked one of the officers why they were there, he responded: To protect you, the marchers. I found this ironic and was embarrassed for him considering that the protest was about the role of the cops as controllers, not protectors.

Once on the steps of city hall, a number of impassioned folk addressed us, the listeners. The most touching to me was listening to Mesha, Idriss' mother, who shared her experience of seeing Idriss after the shooting with ìhis incredible smile frozen in death.î I was amazed at her strength. There was no indignation in her voice when she told us of a dream where Idriss came to her and said, "Ma, you see, we're on a rampage for healing, you and me." She thanked the community for coming together for healing and to advocate for police accountability.

As we stood there together in the cold, some of us hopping from one foot to the other keeping warm and children half listening, half dancing to the occasional song or drum beat, I felt what I didnít expect to feel, with so much injustice in this city. I felt hope. Marie, columnist for the San Francisco Bayview, a friend of Mesha and the godmother of Idriss, told the indifferent-seeming police who were standing at their posts surrounding the ceremony: I will not go quietly into the dark today. She forgave the police. She told us that she was absolving us of the responsibility and forgiving them for us! As Marie was doing this, some of us turned around to see the reaction of the cops - I saw them sink into themselves, into their tough, black armor. They did not acknowledge us.

Mary people carried signs which read: Their deaths were not in vain. Through community support, media organizing and solidarity over the past year, and by acting on what Marie said so gracefully about not going into the dark quietly, the police are going to start receiving mandatory Psychiatric Crisis Intervention (PCI)  training. Over the next 4 years, all 1st responders (of 911 calls) will receive PCI. Each year, 25% of officers will be trained 40-hours over a week which is supposed to enable them to handle any crisis where someone is in mental distress. We are hoping this will end the ìshoot first, ask questions later policy that exists now and continues to cause the senceless crimes against beautiful young men of color in crisis like Idriss Stelly and Joseph Tims

by Richard Midget/PNN Media Intern

I remember the trip to San Francisco on the bus leaving a city that had trampled on my civil rights and heading for someplace better…

The first few days where a bit rough but the city and some other organizations helped me settle in my new home. One of these groups had helped me to get some long-term shelter out on Folsom Ave near the water. This is when I encountered the other side if San Francisco. The rude and disrespectful City Employee.

Now this is not all city employees but a certain percentage of them and the them are the ones not believing in or held to any standards of accountability professional or otherwise.

One of my advocates had suggested I take The "66 Quintara" (bus) to my destination. I got on MUNI and showed the driver a transfer, the same time I asked him about the 66 line. He began to yell at me about my transfer being expired and how should I know this already. Being he was a bus driver and every other stop for the 66 line was missing(from what?) I thought he might have some grasp on the concept of bus stops and destinations.

Obviously I could have been wrong.

I went on to advise him that I in fact had the fare but he was the one in fifteen billion who had asked to see it since my return to the city by the bay. He continued to yell at me in both English and what I thought to be Tagalog. I stated to this gentleman he had no reason to be rude as I was paying my fare but he continued to yell at

He drove another block and a half and turned on to second street and yelled out "last stop!" I asked again where was the 66 line and again he yelled out, "last stop! You need to get off the bus!" So I looked at this man oddly and exited the bus.

After I exited, I noticed another bus parked in front of his so I walked up to the door and asked the driver if he could call a supervisor as I was treated disrespectfully by the driver of the bus that just left. I was told by this driver, "I don’t have a number" I said what about using the phone in your bus he replied, "cant do it"

I attempted to appeal to this mans sense of reasoning as a professional and stated, "You have the ability to call a supervisor and I am requesting you call one as I wish to make a complaint regarding your driver and I know someone is in the field"

Again he towed the party line, "cant do it". So being a worldly man I stated to the driver "next time you S.O.B's ask for a raise don’t consider my vote!!". As I was walking away from the door I heard a voice from behind call out "who you calling a b…." and the sound of something snap. When I turned around I had a uniformed muni driver standing in front of me with a 5 inch hunting knife opened, he was holding it in a position to strike me.

I began to state calmly at first and then more loudly to draw the attention of the passengers on the bus seated, "Are you going to stab me?!!" I repeated this line a few times till the driver noticed passengers beginning to raise and move toward the door . I got back onto the bus, we argued a bit more as I was afraid to take my eyes off of him, he looked as if he was going to get out of his seat again and charge the door. Eventually he started the bus and I stood outside the door till he pulled away.

by The Purple Berets,PNN staff and Andrew DellaRocca/PoorNewsNetwork intern

The Triumph

by The Purple Berets

In the first ever monetary award by law enforcement for their failure to
protect a domestic violence victim leading up to her homicide, the
Sonoma County Sheriff's Department agreed to pay a million dollar
settlement in the landmark civil rights lawsuit "Maria Teresa Macias vs.
Sonoma County Sheriff Mark Ihde."

The announcement came mid-trial at the close of dramatic testimony by
Sara Rubio Hernandez detailing more than 20 attempts by her daughter,
Maria Teresa Macias to get help with her violent, estranged husband,
Avelino.

Hernandez outlined her daughter's repeated reports to the Sheriff Dept.
of Avelino's multiple felony crimes including his sexual assaults of
Teresa and her children, his constant obsessive stalking, repeated
threats to kill, and restraining order violations. The Sheriff's Dept.
never once arrested or cited Avelino. After deputies ignored more than
twenty reports in just the last few months of her life, Avelino fatally
shot Teresa, then shot and seriously wounded her mother, Sara on April
15, 1996.

This landmark federal civil rights lawsuit, filed in October, 1996
claimed that Sonoma County Sheriffs Dept. violated Teresa's
constitutional right to Equal Protection of the law. A July 2000 9th
Circuit Appellate Court decision in the Macias case established for the
first time and in the most unambiguous language to date women's right to
sue law enforcement when they fail to act.

With today's testimony and the historic damages award, Sara Hernandez
said, "I have fulfilled my daughter's wish." Shortly before her death,
Teresa told her mother, "If I die I want you to tell the world what
happened to me. I don't want other women to suffer as I have suffered; I
want them to be listened to."

The settlement sends a resounding message to law enforcement around the
country that they can no longer ignore domestic violence victims with
impunity, and sends an equally forceful message to women everywhere that
they have a constitutional right to hold law enforcement accountable
when they refuse to act.

PURPLE BERETS

Women Defending Women

PO Box 3064

Santa Rosa, CA 95402

707.887.0262; fax
707.887.0865

http://www.purpleberets.org

The Trial by PNN staff, Andy Dellarocca/PNN media intern;

My blue t-shirt, jeans, and white sneakers were by no
means a camouflage amidst the sea of business attire around me in the federal courtroom of the Macias trial. A court-like woman walked around the room, asking who was press, and blew by me without a pause, assuming I wasn't. It was as if I were invisible, however I know I was ignored because I was exactly the opposite. I was here from PoorNewsNetwork to report and "support" on the landmark trial of a poor woman of color, Maria Teresa Macias, who was murdered by her abusive husband due to the neglect of the Sonoma County Police Department

Macias v. Ihde has become a landmark civil rights lawsuit that challenges
law enforcement's right to ignore domestic violence. Maria Teresa Macias,
a Latina housecleaner in the town of Sonoma, was shot dead by her
husband, Avelino, on April 15, 1996, who afterward turned the gun on himself
and took his own life. The couple were separated at the time of the murder, due to the violent behavior and ongoing abuse by Avelino of
both Maria and their three children. The civil lawsuit is being brought
against the Sonoma County Sheriffís department by Mariaís mother, Sara
Hernandez, and the estate of Maria Macias, which includes Mariaís three
children. They accuse the Sheriff's department of neglecting to provide
Maria with her rightful equal protection under the law, as is outlined in
the 14th amendment of the United States constitution, and seek damages. The
case is being viewed by the press and many social justice groups as a
breakthrough in the advancement of the rights and protections of women and
victims of domestic violence.

When the proceedings began at 8:30, Judge Susan Illston entered the room
and, after having a brief discussion with the attorneys, called a half hour
recess that lasted until ten oíclock. "Hurry up and wait" was how one woman
described it to me. She was a journalist reporting for a newspaper in
the North Bay, and was familiar with the proceedings of the Federal judicial
system.

Forty observers had shown up by ten oíclock. The day's proceedings
consisted of the opening statements by both the prosecutors and the defense,
and an initial round of witnesses called to the stand by the prosecuting
attorney, Rick Seltzer. Seltzer painted a picture of a complacent Sheriffís
department that was hesitant to intervene in cases of domestic violence. He
called to the stand a group of witnesses that included an employer, friends,
and the mother of Maria Macias, Sara Hernandez. Seltzer told the jury that the Sonoma
County Sheriffís department had two policies concerning domestic violence
responses, one written and one ìunderstoodî. The ìunderstoodî policy of the
department rendered the use of restraining orders, which Maria had on
Avelino, useless, and thus emboldened Avelino to continue and augment his
abuse.

There is a system already established that is effective in preventing
domestic abusers from escalating their violence to the point of severe harm
or murder. That system includes fines, jail, and counseling. " The Sheriffís
department are the gatekeepers to this system," argued Seltzer, and, "they
kept the gate closed here".

The defense countered Seltzerís arguments by painting a picture of
extensive civic bureaucracy, diverting the blame from the sheriffís
department into multiple civic institutions that included the District
Attorney's office, the Juvenile Court, and Child Protective Services. Taken
separately, none, including the sheriffís department, could be held
accountable for Mariaís death. The sheriffís department, argued the defense
attorney Mike Senneff, tried multiple times to bring Avelino under the
umbrella of the criminal system, but were often derailed at the District
Attorneyís office. Senneff also mentioned a love letter that was written by
Maria for another man, and that was intercepted by Avelino a few days before
the shooting. The letter was written after Maria's final contact with the
sheriff's department, and the defense plans to argue that it wasnít until
Avelino read this letter that he began to display the psychotic tendencies
that led to the murder. How, therefore, could the sheriffís department have
acted to prevent the tragedy?

The Triumph...

The trial was expected to last three to four weeks, but instead, on day two of the case at the close of a dramatic testimony by Sara Rubio Hernandez detailing more than 20 attempts by her daughter, Maria Teresa Macias to get help with her violent, estranged husband, Avelino, a landmark settlement was reached to award
the first ever monetary settlement to the Macias Family by law enforcement for their failure to protect a domestic violence victim. The Sonoma County Sheriff's Department agreed to pay a million dollar settlement to the Macias Family.

With this testimony and the historic damages award, Sara Hernandez said,
"I have fulfilled my daughter's wish." Shortly before her death, Teresa
told her mother, "If I die I want you to tell the world what happened to me.
I don't want other women to suffer as I have suffered; I want them to be
listened to."

The settlement sends a resounding message to law enforcement around the
country that they can no longer ignore domestic violence victims with
impunity, and sends an equally forceful message to women everywhere that
they have a constitutional right to hold law enforcement accountable when
they refuse to act.

As well as a triumph for the memory of a crime against a poor woman of color, this trial could not have been a success without the tireless efforts of several grassroots women's organizations like The Purple Berets who are dedicated to bringing justice to oppressed women like Maria Macias, all over the world.

by Leroy Moore

Frida Kahlo & June Jordan

Together teaching through

Realism art & Poetry

Paints, Paintbrushes, pens and paper

Weapons of the truth

Both telling stories of the people

And their pain

Frida Kahlo in the garden with her students

June Jordan tearing down Ivory Walls with Poetry for the People

Both had a unique style of teaching

That was rooted in community

One stroke of the paintbrush opened a wound

For dark and bright colors so we can see & feel, heal & learn

Influence by their fathers

He was determine to see his daughters strive

Father & mother planted a seed in their youthful garden

Grew up poor and middle-class in New York & Mexico

Kept their individuality

That attracted many

And confused their enemies

Art n Activism

Frida join the Communist Party

June, a Black radical

She wrote, poetry is a political action!

Took their art and views to their community

Wrenching control from Mexico’s military dictator and college administrators

To deliver Power to the People

You cannot write lies and write good poetry!

Yeah, she wrote the raw truth as June puts it

because poetry is the medium for

Telling the truth

June said to speak the truth cause

We have work to do!

Frida painted her pain

Determined to face the truth squarely

With courage & honesty

Creating an open avenue of learning

Building what June calls A Community of Trust

This trust opened black hidden shame

That has been scratching to get out

To be replaced with pride & inner fame

A report card full of As

A in Art, blasting revolutionary words into the market

A in Activism, blowing up the system from in and outside

A in Academia, rolling dead white history

With Poetry for the People, a rainbow at UC Berkeley

Now they are masterminding

Creating a haven for activists\artists

A resting place, palace of vibrant colors on imaginary walls

Razor sharp words producing shock and a calm atmosphere

I can’t wait to get there

June & Frida taught the young

To wear their art & heart on their sleeves

A new generation armed with pens, pencils, paintbrushes, paints & paper

Spoken, written and painted

Following their teacher, June & Frida

On their own paths to the truth

Dedicated to June Jordan who passed last week and will always be remembered

DAMO and POOR Magazine will miss you

By Leroy F. Moore Jr.

by Joe B.

I’ve thought of this Bush, Ashcroft, and the rest of the Justless Freedom League.

As American citizens are denied lawyers while suspicion, becomes strong a proof these days.

I the Soviet Union is reborn deleting a letter, exchanging star and scythe for star and stripes.

Mr. Art Bell’s boiling frogs is an accurate analogy of how American’s can slowly, subtly, imperceptibly lose their hard-earned freedoms.

The fire is under the pot, water is simmering not yet boiling.

If we keep our mouths shut, ears closed, brains numbed by boob vision, like a proverbial frog we’ll collectively boil and all our rights will be forever gone!

I’ve had my say on that and hope more people WAKE THE FUCK UP… NOW!!!

Excuse the offensive language but I feel that this Evangelical Right Wing, Ministry like Theocracy is reaching more and more into more than for protecting its citizens but expanding into ideological thought police.

The domestic, national, and international quasi legal law enforcement agencies expansion is really a waking nightmare for me because when they [to protect it citizens from terrorist threats] or have already linked television, radio, land-cell phone technology along with micro miniature tracking devices.

I wonder if we’ll ever be able to be along, isolated because we want it a that moment.

When introducing my column I said didn’t want PC’s, tv, and phones hooked up together because too much interconnectedness can be a bad thing. I DETEST BEING RIGHT.

The way to combat this gov./fed/corp/state/wrong or W-media is for decent thinking hackers to take their brilliant tech minds and ferret out teach others to do same without detection.

Though the Carnivore program was discovered which I believe was a test so that other even more intrusive programs can get by without detection.

"I know, Joe you fool, our government’s not that devious or corrupt.
"I guess I’ll be a fool and think different and keep my odd ball thoughts to myself and let others come to other conclusions.

Gifts From Earth.

We need more room, more worlds, but we must safeguard our first one before generations unborn forget, even though many will never see or visit.

Genetic memory ensures an abiding respect, curiosity to return, and for a place to settle.

That’s the last installment of Gifts From Earth.

Hope it got your interest. I must clean my paper covered room. Bye.