Street SpiritJ U S T I C E N E W S & H O M E L E S S B L U E S I N T H E B A Y A R E A

VVoolluummee 1188,, NNoo.. 77 JJuullyy 22001122 $$11..0000

AA ppuubblliiccaattiioonn ooff tthhee AAmmeerriiccaann FFrriieennddss SSeerrvviiccee CCoommmmiitttteeee

by Lydia Gans

Kenneth McCoy has been sell-ing the Street Spirit since hewas diagnosed with colon can-cer six years ago and found he

had no way to pay for the medicine hewould need to survive.

Sitting on an upturned bucket in front ofthe North Berkeley Post Office, Kennethexchanges greetings with the people whopass by. “They know me and I know themand they’re wonderful people,” he declares.“They help me a great deal.”

Kenneth grew up near Hayward,“across the tracks,” in an unincorporatedfarming community called Russell City,about 10 miles south of Oakland. RussellCity was settled back in 1853 and ceasedto exist in 1964 when the last remainingresidents were driven out and the smalltown was replaced by an industrial park.

That wasn’t unusual. The industrialparks now dominating the area were builton land taken forcibly from the people whohad settled there, mainly African

Americans who had migrated from theSouth. The story is that the residents triedto fight the removal and many of the build-ings were destroyed by acts of arson.

Prior to the mass expulsion of all itsresidents, Russell City was a communityof more than 1,200 people, mostly fami-lies with children. It was known for its lit-tle farms, modest homes, and small-townfeel — including dirt floors and boot-legged electricity in some residences.

The largely African-American commu-nity also drew many blues musicians.Russell City’s thriving legacy of DeltaBlues led to the founding of the annualHayward/Russell City Blues Festival.Such renowned blues masters as BigMama Thornton and Big Joe Turner onceplayed in Russell City.

Decades after Russell City was eradi-cated, its namesake music festival contin-ues to this day. The Hayward/Russell CityBlues Festival will be held this year onJuly 7-8, from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. at

A Man of Spirit: The Long Journey of Kenneth McCoy

See A Man of Spirit page 2 Kenneth McCoy sells Street Spirit outside a Berkeley post office. Lydia Gans photo

by Lydia Gans

The Occupy movement, like othermass expressions of protest, hasbeen plagued by occasional out-bursts of violence, Though

undoubtedly fueled by provocateurs, theaction in itself presents an occasion forpeople to physically express their anger.

We live in a culture of violence. Forsome, it becomes natural to lash outagainst property, even people. Our gov-ernment, through its overt and covert warsand attacks on other nations, has constant-ly sent its citizens the message that it’sOK to kill to prove you’re right.

But there are many people and organi-zations committed to nonviolent politicalaction. Many names come to mind as wesearch history for examples of nonviolentalternatives to violence and warfare.Mohandas Gandhi spent years in jail, andthen gave his very life in nonviolentprotest against British colonialism. MartinLuther King, Jr. led courageous activistsin marching nonviolently for civil rights.

And today, there are many organiza-tions whose fundamental mission is tocarry out peaceful protests — for exam-ple, protests against homelessness byoccupying empty houses, or againsthunger by publicly sharing meals togetherwith people who don’t have access to suf-ficient nourishing food.

Nonviolence is one of the fundamentalprinciples of Food Not Bombs. InBerkeley, East Bay Food Not Bombsstages a daily protest against a system thatvalues profits more than people andexpresses its values in a supremely nonvi-olent way — by inviting all who come byto share a meal outdoors in Peoples Park.

We are making a public statement thatfood is a human right, not a commodity.

Sharing food is an appropriate way ofcreating a culture of nonviolence. In thepast, it was customary for families to sitdown together for the day’s main meal. Itwas a peaceful time; not a time for argu-

Sharing Food as a Form of Nonviolent ProtestFor Food Not Bombs, shar-ing food is a direct act ofresistance to the violence ofhunger and poverty. It’salso a nonviolent protest ofthe corporate state’s mili-tary and economic violence.

Members of East Bay Food Not Bombs serve food to long lines of people every day in People’s Park. Lydia Gans photo

See Sharing Food page 2

Street Spirit vendor Kenneth McCoy exchanges greetingswith the people who pass by in downtown Berkeley. “Theyknow me and I know them and they’re wonderful people,”he declares. “They help me a great deal.”

July 2012ST R E E T SP I R I T2

Donate or Subscribe to Street Spirit!Street Spirit is published by the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC). Homeless vendors receive 50 papers a day for free,earn income and educate the community about social justice issues. Please donate or subscribe to Street Spirit !

❒ I enclose $25 for one year's subscription.❒ I enclose a donation of ❒ $100 ❒ $50 ❒ $ 25

Name: __________________________________________________________

Address: ________________________________________________________

City: ________________________________ State:______ Zip: ___________

Send Donations to: AFSC65 Ninth Street,San Francisco, CA 94103

July 2012

Contact Street SpiritVendor Coordinator

The Street Spirit vendor program ismanaged by J.C. Orton. More than 150homeless vendors sell Street Spirit inBerkeley and Oakland. Please buyStreet Spirit only from badged vendors.

If you have questions about the ven-dor program, call J.C. Orton on his cellphone at (510) 684-1892.

ments, but an occasion to relax from thestress of the outside world. By sharingmeals every day, Food Not Bombs is fol-lowing the same tradition.

If violence erupts, and sometimes itdoes because poor, hungry and homelesspeople often are stressed, it is quicklyabated. With a plate of food in your hand,it’s easier to find a place on the lawn, thestage or a picnic table, and sit down withfriends and chill out. And since the mealis a collective effort, everyone who caresto take part is welcome to help with theserving or come to the kitchens on anyday to take part in the meal preparation.

In preparing the daily meals, as in allour activities, we put into practice anotherof our basic principles: all decisions aremade by consensus. All Food Not Bombsgroups are run entirely by volunteers whohave equal voice in decision-making.

Whether it’s deciding what to cook. orwhat actions to support, or what events toparticipate in, decisions are not simply

made by majority vote. Everyone has tobe in accord — or at least not oppose agiven course of action. The same principleholds in our kitchens. There is no boss, soeveryone feels equally responsible.Accordingly, people take pride in produc-ing a good meal.

The third basic principle of Food Not

Bombs is vegetarianism. Our food reflectsour dedication to nonviolence — includ-ing violence against animals. Wheneverpossible, the food we serve is vegan. Thisalso avoids problems with food spoilagewhich is generally not a problem withplant-based foods. (When we get dona-tions of meat products, we turn them over

to soup kitchens that aren’t vegetarian.We believe that eating is more importantthan being politically pure.)

Food Not Bombs goes back more than30 years. The first group was organized inCambridge, Massachusetts, in 1980 byanti-nuclear activists protesting the con-struction of a nuclear power plant. In1988, a San Francisco chapter was startedand East Bay Food Not Bombs wasfounded not long after. Today, there arehundreds of Food Not Bombs chapters allover the United States and a thousandaround the world — in Africa, Asia, theMiddle East, Europe and Australia.

Food Not Bombs exists in small vil-lages and big cities. All adhere to thesame principles of working together toshare free food. Besides the regular serv-ings and the meals provided at protestactions, Food Not Bombs groups are oftenthe first to provide food for disaster sur-vivors, They were there for the 1989 BayArea earthquake, and they were there forHurricane Katrina, for 9/11 rescue work-ers and many other occasions.

Scanning the Internet turns up animpressive list of Food Not Bombs web-sites. This is a movement that is growing.It provides nourishment to some of thepoorest members of our society, whilenurturing the bodies and spirits ofactivists in the struggle for social change.

SHARING FOOD

IS AN ACT OF

RESISTANCE

Members of East Bay Food Not Bombs prepare nutritious meals forhundreds of people each day, utilizing the kitchens of volunteers.

Lydia Gansphoto

from page 1

Hayward City Hall Plaza, 777 B Street.Although Russell City was so close to

Oakland, Kenneth McCoy’s childhoodresembled growing up in a small countryvillage. His boyhood memories of the lit-tle town almost have the flavor of a ruralhomestead. “We had a farm,” he recalls,“with chickens, pigs, a cow and a horse.”

But it was by no means an idyllic life.There was no urban infrastructure, noindoor plumbing.

“We had outhouses, we had cesspools,”Kenneth says. “The outhouse sat on wood-en planks. There’s a deep trench they didfor the waste. When it rains, it goes throughboards — fills up.”

He recalls the tragic drowning death ofhis three-year-old nephew who was play-ing outside a neighbor’s house. “The topof the outhouse had been knocked downso there was just the trench full of waterand waste. He was playing out front, thenwent around back chasing the ball and fellinto the trench. They pulled the body outand put the body in the kitchen.”

Kenneth was only 12. It’s a memorythat has stayed with him his whole life. “Itwas a very trying time,” he says.

Several years after that, Kenneth’sfamily was forced to leave. He remembersthe expulsion. “My father finally toredown the shack we lived in and built ahome, a nice home. After he built it, that’swhen the city came along and told him hehad to sell it or they would take it.”

In 1963, Alameda County officialsdecided to demolish the entire communityand redevelop it as an industrial park. Theofficials created the Russell CityRedevelopment Agency to forcibly pur-

chase all the properties, or seize them byeminent domain. In only two years, hun-dreds of families and individual residentswere forced to relocate and leave theirhomes behind.

His family moved to Oakland, whereKenneth enrolled at Oakland High. Helived most of his life in NorthernCalifornia working in construction orbuilding maintenance. Listening to himtalk, it’s clear he worked hard and some-times dangerous jobs. He described a cou-ple of serious accidents, the last one land-ing him in the hospital when he was foundto have cancer.

The need for money to pay for hismedicine led him to sell the Street Spirit,but for Kenneth it has become a lot morethan a job. He speaks with pride about thepaper, about how people tell him howmuch they like the Street Spirit.

“Every time they buy a paper,”Kenneth says, “they say this is the bestpaper — better than the Chronicle and theTribune. They are not true words in them,but everything in the Street Spirit paper istrue. And they always tell me that.”

Kenneth talks about the man whobought a paper from him recently andthen, when he found the front-page articleon “The Mississippi Delta: Birthplace ofthe Blues,” he came back ten minutes laterand bought 19 more copies.

Since receiving his cancer diagnosis,he has been able to stay in shelters, butbefore that he was homeless for sometime. He is anxious to describe that expe-rience.

“I’d sleep on the sidewalks in betweenentrance ways of bookstores, down nearthe BART station on Shattuck,” Kennethtells me. “Sleeping on the street —-I

never got a good night’s sleep becauseyou would wonder when a person walkspast. You’d hear the footsteps.

“As the footsteps disappear in the dark,you try to go back to sleep. By the timeyou’re halfway asleep, you hear morefootsteps. That would keep you (awake)till you couldn’t hear those any more.”

He recalled the time several years agowhen news got around of someone threat-ening to spray lighter fluid on sleepinghomeless people and set them on fire. Thehomeless people in Berkeley got togetherand “we all decided to take our shoppingcarts and make a great big circle and sleepin between that circle with the cartsaround us.” That encampment took placein Martin Luther King Park in downtownBerkeley, and lasted for several weeks.

Kenneth is a regular voter and readilyexpresses his political views. “I voteevery year. I vote Democrat — even ifthey don’t win, I always voted Democrat.Some people say Republicans give usmore. I don’t think so. I think they tend tobury us, tend to bury us and step on us.

“We’re the little ones (and) they lookover us. When I’m sitting here at nightand one passes by, you can tell if they’reRepublican ‘cause they’re looking straightahead, or looking down. Democrats, theyalways pass by and face me, at least giveme a conversation. But a Republicankeeps walking.”

He celebrated his 64th birthday onMay 10, 2012. He has a roof over his headnow and the income from his Street Spiritsales, so he can buy the medicine to con-trol the cancer. We look forward to seeingKenneth at the North Berkeley post officewith his papers for a long time to come.

A Man of Spirit: The Long Journey of Kenneth McCoy from page 1

Editor’s note: J.C. Orton, director ofStreet Spirit’s vendor program, receivedthis letter from a vendor on Father’sDay. It is a testimony to the caring spiritbehind Orton’s work with the vendors.

The first time I saw him was in frontof the Men’s Shelter on Center Street —a short, big man with white hair, a blackcowboy hat and a gentle smile. I wasthere for a free laundry, and he wasthere to help homeless people.

When he found out I was new in theUnited States, and I didn’t have a workpermit, he offered to help me to becomea newspaper seller. Soon, he made me abadge to start my job, and showed me aplace and time to get a free meal.

He told me about the places where Ican find him to get newspapers, or anyother help, and gave me his phone num-ber for any questions that I might have.

That was a great help.Doing this job changed my life. I

could practice my English, earn money,get whatever I might need and have myfree time. After a while, I found out thathe knows many homeless people byname, with some necessary details.

Time and time again, patiently, hecorrected my English and asked me if Ineeded anything. Now I know, a bigpart of my safety and happiness inBerkeley is because of him. He is who Ihave to thank on Fathers Day!

Thank you, J.C. May God bless you,and give you a long and healthy life.

— Sanam

‘He Is Who IHave to Thankon Father’s Day’

July 2012 ST R E E T SP I R I T 3

Street SpiritStreet Spirit is published by AmericanFriends Service Committee. The ven-dor program is run by J.C. Orton.

Editor, Layout: Terry MessmanWeb designer: Ariel Messman-Rucker

Contributors: David Bacon, AndyBeres, Jack Bragen, Grace Braithwaite,Jonathan Burstein, Janny Castillo, Jon-Mychal Cox, Carol Denney, LydiaGans, T.J. Johnston, Tatiana Makovkin,Christa Occhiogrosso, Michelle Rogers,Edgar Segura, George Wynn

All works copyrighted by the authors.The views expressed in Street Spirit arti-cles are those of the individual authors,not necessarily those of the AFSC.

Street Spirit welcomes submissions ofarticles, poems, photos and art.

Contact: Terry MessmanStreet Spirit, 65 Ninth Street,San Francisco, CA 94103E-mail: spirit@afsc.orgWeb: http://www.thestreetspirit.org

Editorial by Terry Messman

After years of civil rights marches,freedom rides, and bus boycotts,the U.S. Congress voted over-

whelmingly in favor of the Civil RightsAct of 1964. This landmark legislationoutlawed many forms of racial discrimi-nation against African Americans, includ-ing segregation in schools, workplacesand public accommodations.

This legislation was a major turningpoint in U.S. history. But how well havewe learned the lessons of history? Onelesson that seems forgotten is that if thecivil rights of Black citizens had been putup to a vote by the citizens of Mississippi,Alabama, Georgia and other states, theywould have lost overwhelmingly at theballot box.

In the midst of the civil rights move-ment in the 1960s, Alabama voters electedGov. George Wallace and Georgia voterselected Gov. Lester Maddox preciselybecause Wallace and Maddox werestaunchly in favor of segregation “now andforever.” Both men did everything in theirpower to obstruct the granting of equalrights to Black citizens and both were over-whelmingly supported by the electorate fortheir vile acts of racial discrimination.

But Congress and the Supreme Courtdidn’t allow the majority of voters of thosestates to use the ballot box to deny fellowcitizens their civil rights. Instead, Congresspassed the Civil Rights Act despite theopposition of Southern governors and vot-ers, because certain constitutional rights aretoo fundamentally important, too sacred, tobe denied to minorities — even by a major-ity vote of the electorate.

This is precisely the lesson thatBerkeley Mayor Tom Bates and a majori-ty of the City Council have failed tounderstand and honor. In voting to placeBates’ grossly discriminatory initiative toban sitting in Berkeley on the Novemberballot, the City Council has betrayed thevery concept of equal rights for all.

Homeless people don’t have anywherebut public spaces to sit and rest. If the actof sitting down is criminalized, the obvi-ous intent of the law is to drive visiblypoor citizens out of downtown areas.

Punitive laws that banish certain groupsof people from public spaces — whetherbased on appearance, economic class, gen-der, religion or race — are, in fact, mod-ern-day segregation decrees, plain and sim-ple. Berkeley’s proposed sitting ban isbased on the same kind of societal preju-dice against “undesirables” that gave birth

to the discriminatory Jim Crow laws in theworst moments of our history.

On June 12, the City Council shamedBerkeley’s own best traditions of toler-ance and respect for equal rights by voting6-3 to place the anti-sitting measure onNovember’s ballot. Councilmembers MaxAnderson, Kriss Worthington and JesseArreguin once again distinguished them-selves by voting against the council’s lat-est attempt to pass a segregation decreethat would destroy civil rights protectionsfor poor and homeless people.

Max Anderson’s statements to MayorBates at the council meeting were deeplyinsightful, verging on prophetic.Anderson said that sitting and lying aresuch basic and essential human rights thatthey should never be allowed to be abol-ished, even by a majority of voters.

Anderson warned that, in the past, peo-ple have voted to eliminate the basicrights of their fellow citizens. He thenmade the most telling comment of all —the one sentence that should have madeBates and his council majority repent oftheir ill-considered plan to put humanrights up for sale to the highest bidder.

Anderson said: “Voters in the Southwould have voted in the 1950s to extendslavery.” Anderson is completely correctin saying that. It is shameful that anyelected official in Berkeley could vote forsuch a repressive measure after hearing

Anderson’s analysis.Last May and June, many homeless

activists and organizations in Berkeleymobilized successfully to convince theCity Council not to vote for Mayor Bates’first attempt to have the council pass ananti-sitting measure. Virtually everyhomeless organization in Berkeley joinedthe Keep Sitting Legal Coalition, and aftermonths of organizing protests and sit-ins,the council and the business lobbyistsbacked away from Bates’ proposal.

This latest ploy by Bates is an attempt toavoid the political price of having the coun-cil itself vote for this anti-democratic mea-sure. By putting the anti-sitting measure onthe November ballot, Bates and his alliestake the measure out of their own hands andduck the firestorm of controversy the pro-posal provoked last spring.

In their shrewd calculations, they knowthe business community can raise hun-dreds of times more money than homelesspeople and their economically stressedallies. Also, they are counting on the factthat it is far easier for people in the priva-cy of the voting booth to vote on theirprejudices, rather than on their principlesand democratic values.

But human rights should never be abol-ished by a majority vote, and theyshouldn’t be up for sale. The rights of thepoorest of the poor shouldn’t be eliminat-ed just because the business class can

raise infinitely more money than the poorand their few allies. It is all so cynical itmakes one sick at heart.

Once again, Bates has shown thathuman rights are for sale by doing thebidding of Telegraph Avenue businessowners, the Chamber of Commerce andthe Downtown Berkeley Association.

In Berkeley, as elsewhere in the nation,business interests not only control theeconomy; they also control the politicalsystem, because most politicians are forsale. This triumph of profit over humanrights has led city after city to cave in tobusiness interests and vote to enact segre-gation ordinances that should never havebeen countenanced by the elected officialsof an alleged democracy.

The vote by the Berkeley City Councilto put the anti-sitting measure on theNovember ballot shows us that nearlyeverything can be bought and sold — therights of the poor, the city sidewalks, andthe political process itself, along with ourelected officials.

In his thorough coverage of the councilmeeting in the online Berkeley DailyPlanet, reporter Ted Friedman describedthe following revealing exchange betweenthis repressive measure’s chief architects.

“As Roland Peterson and Craig Beckerof Telegraph property owners group leftthe meeting, they observed, ‘Same voteswe’ve had all along.’”

One thing about businessmen — theyknow how to tally up their assets and cal-culate the value of their acquisitions. Theywalked out of the meeting with the majori-ty of the council in their pocket. Now,they’re laying plans to buy the electionresults that will serve the interests of thebusiness class and criminalize the impover-ished class forced to live on sidewalks.

Perhaps, as they stroll to the bank,these business leaders have been forced tostep one too many times over thesprawled bodies of the destitute victims ofour nation’s distressed economic climate.So now they will attempt to pass laws tobanish poor people from public view.

If they are successful in using the elec-toral process to destroy the human rightsof their poorest neighbors, let them con-sider how the prophet Isaiah oncedescribed exactly this kind of legislation:

“Woe to the legislators of infamouslaws, to those who issue tyrannicaldecrees, who refuse justice to the unfortu-nate, and cheat the poor among my peopleof their rights, who make widows theirprey and rob the orphan.” (Isaiah 10:1-2)

by T.J. Johnston

The measure to ban sitting orlying on sidewalks in Berkeley’scommercial areas isn’t the firstattempt to regulate such activity

in the city. Nor is it the first law on anymunicipal books imposing penalties forreclining outside a public place.

The initiative, which the Berkeley CityCouncil placed on November’s ballot,would prohibit sitting or lying in front ofbusinesses from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m.

It also comes on the heels of an evalua-tion of San Francisco’s year-old ban on sit-ting and lying on sidewalks. City HallFellows, a nonpartisan public service corps,reported that enforcement has not deterredthe homeless people from resting outside.

Similarly, the National Law Center onHomelessness & Poverty and the U.S.Interagency Council on Homelessnessconcluded that enforcing quality of lifelaws is largely ineffective in changinghomeless people’s public behaviors.

Elisa Della-Piana, director of theNeighborhood Justice Clinic in Berkeley,also decries the measure as punitive.

“It will achieve nothing except createdivision in the community,” she said.“Enforcement of the ordinance wouldkeep people homeless and create criminalrecords that could prevent them from get-ting housing or jobs.”

Other cities also attempted to pass theirown sit-lie laws. If Berkeley passes its ini-tiative, it would join other West Coastcities that attempted to place restrictionson when and where people are legallyallowed to hang out.

Berkeley officials passed a similar ordi-nance in 1994, but the BerkeleyCommunity Health Project succeeded inchallenging it. The court found the law vio-lates constitutional rights to free assembly,due process and equal protection. Fouryears later, the City Council enacted a lawthat forbids lying down on commercialareas. That law remains in effect.

Seattle’s ordinance is the model for

existing sit-lie legislation. Palo Alto andSan Francisco passed their own Seattle-style laws, apparently emboldened by thecity’s successful defense in a 1997 chal-lenge. A Washington state appeals courtupheld the law. In 2010, Palo Alto’s expan-sion of an area-specific ban to the wholecity also withstood a county-level ruling.

In June of the same year, the SanFrancisco Board of Supervisors defeated asimilarly intended proposal. The follow-ing November, a ballot proposition spon-sored by then-Mayor Gavin Newsompassed with 54 percent of the vote.

The existing law in Santa Cruz isunusually prohibitive. It encompassessidewalks and bus stops. It also establish-es no-sit zones. A 14-foot distance mustbe kept from buildings in city limits, aswell as a 50-foot-wide berth from ATMs.

Other laws struck down or modifiedincluded one in Los Angeles that requiredenforcement be stopped if no shelter bedswere available and another in Portland thatwas found to preempt state law.

Challenging Berkeley’s Anti-Sitting Measure

Berkeley’s Segregation Measure Fails the Test of History

“I have the right to exist in public space.” Young people in Berkeleyare protesting Mayor Bates’ attempts to banish them from the streets.

Janny Castillophoto

July 2012ST R E E T SP I R I T4

by David Bacon

Today, California community col-leges charge $36 per unit, a feedue to increase to $46 this sum-mer. Those fees have been the

subject of strong criticism by students andthe California Federation of Teacherssince they began rising as a result of thestate’s fiscal crisis.

Union leaders and students have shownthat as the fees increase, the number ofstudents able to afford community collegedecreases. Under the impact of the eco-nomic crisis, Santa Monica College(SMC) has cut back more than 1000 class-es in recent years. Its current funding fromthe state was reduced by $11 million thisyear, and it may lose an additional $5 mil-lion next year.

On April 3, as the Board of Trusteeswas debating a proposal from SMCPresident Chui Tsang to institute a systemcharging much higher fees for some of theclasses offered by the community college,30 students and a four-year-old girl werepepper-sprayed outside the meeting room.

While it wasn’t what she expectedwhen she was elected to the Board ofTrustees of Santa Monica College, itwasn’t a surprise to Margaret Quiñones-Perez. She called it “a wake-up call to usas an institution that we needed to have abigger conversation ... We had to stop andlook and see what was going on.”

Last year, SMC President Tsang pro-posed that the 34,000-student college cre-ate a nonprofit foundation that wouldoffer core classes, such as English andmath, but charge as much as $200 perunit. He predicted that despite state reduc-tions, the college could actually increaseofferings if it began charging a muchhigher fee for additional sections of themost popular classes, once the first set ofclasses offered at lower fees was filled.Some district officials even predicted thatthe coming winter session might offeronly the higher fee classes.

Tsang and other supporters of the ideafirst tried to convince legislators to carry abill, AB 515, which would allow these feeincreases. Such legislation would be need-ed, most believe, because current stateregulations prohibit a two-tier fee scheme.

Paul Feist, a spokesman for CaliforniaCommunity Colleges Chancellor JackScott, has held that higher fees can onlybe charged for contract courses geared tothe needs of specific employers. In gener-al, he says, state law prohibits higher feesfor normal, core classes.

The bill failed in committee, however.Then SMC President Tsang came to pre-sent his proposed fee increases at a SantaMonica Board of Trustees retreat.

“I said that I didn’t think it was properto introduce this proposal in a meetingthat wasn’t public,” Quiñones-Perezrecalls. “He slipped it in anyway. I feltthis was very disrespectful, and a realproblem because he was trying to getboard members’ agreement in a meetingthat was not a public venue. The public

anger and frustration when it finally cameout was predictable.”

That happened on April 3, when a hun-dred students marched from the campuslibrary to a board meeting, chanting “Nocuts, no fees, education should be free!”

When they arrived, they found themeeting was taking place in a room thatcouldn’t accommodate a large crowd, andthat people were being given numbers togain admittance. As students massed atthe doorway, the chanting changed to,“Let us in, let us in!” Campus securitythen pepper-sprayed the crowd and man-handled some of the students. About 30students suffered the chemical’s effects,and two were taken to the hospital.

Afterwards Tsang blamed the students.“Although a number of participants at themeeting engaged in unlawful conduct,Santa Monica College police personnelexercised restraint,” he asserted later in astatement. “Santa Monica College regretsthat a group of people chose to disrupt apublic meeting in an unlawful manner.”

“It’s a strange time we are living inwhen people who are outraged by socialinjustice and the lack of democracy in ourschools and society are seen as the crazyones,” responded Harrison Wills, studentbody president in an internet comment.He wondered “how incredibly importantdecisions are made without our consulta-tion and to top it off in an extremely smallroom for a school of 35,000 students.”

The real problem, explains Quinones-Perez, who with student trustee JoshuaScuteri were the only votes against theproposal, is that it creates a two-tier edu-cational system in community colleges.Fees that are affordable and equal for allwere the most important guarantors of thepromise in California’s Master Plan thathigher education would be available toevery student who wanted it.

“It really creates segregation instead,”she says, “between the haves and the have-nots. If you can pay, you’ll get your classes.That’s guaranteed if you have money. Butif you don’t have money, you may getclasses, and you may not. Community col-leges were not created for this.”

Skyrocketing fees in the state universityand University of California systems havealready frayed the Master Plan badly. UCBerkeley has turned away thousands of in-state applicants, who have been replaced byaffluent students paying out-of-state feesthat make UCB more expensive than Yaleand Princeton. About 30 percent of theincoming freshman class of 2011 now payout-of-state fees that are $23,000 a yearmore than in-state students.

Some Santa Monica College boardmembers call Tsang’s proposal innovative.“They say the Master Plan is outdated, notin tune with financial reality and what’sfeasible,” Quiñones-Perez says. “But youdon’t get to change the values of what com-munity colleges are supposed to do. Onlythe people of California get to do that.”

In response to SMC President Tsang’sassertion that the change is necessary, andthat students will either have to pay even

more to private college operators or gowithout classes entirely, she responds that“we have to be able to weather the currentfiscal storm, work with legislators, evenscale back some.”

She adds, “But I’ve been on this boardfor eight years, and the Santa MonicaSchool Board for 12 years before that, andwe’ve had peaks and valleys in funding allthat time. We will straighten this out as astate, and we may have to wait, and wemay have to see some pain, but it will be anequalized pain and an equalized solution.”

For Quiñones-Perez, defending theMaster Plan is second nature. Its guaran-tees enabled her to get an education thatwould otherwise have been far out ofreach. She grew up in Stoner Park, a poorenclave in the middle-class neighbor-hoods of west Los Angeles.

“My dad came to the U.S. when therewere tobacco and onion fields in the area,”she says. “You could still see the shacksfarm workers lived in on OlympicBoulevard and Sawtelle when I was grow-ing up. That’s where he met my mom, whowas born here. They met in The Lucky Ubar — the local hangout where Latinos oftheir generation went to socialize.”

She was the middle child of ninebrothers and sisters, seven of whom sur-vived to adulthood. Then her fatherreturned to Mexico, where he was killedin a horrific car accident. That left hermom to support the family.

“She found us a cheap house in a safeneighborhood, away from the gangs ofVenice, where my older brother waskilled,” Quiñones-Perez remembers. “Sheworked as a domestic, and by the time Iwas eight, I was going to work with her. Atfirst I thought it was exciting. I was in bighouses, with pretty things I’d never seenbefore. But soon I felt humiliated, washingthe bathroom on my knees. I was embar-rassed and ashamed. I didn’t understandwhy I had to clean other peoples’ bath-

rooms. When I saw the drapes and carpetsin those homes, I knew I was poor.”

In addition, she began to realize what itmeant to be Mexican in Los Angeles.Like many of her generation, her motherhad been punished in school for speakingSpanish. Although young Margaret spokeSpanish at home, her mother pushed herto speak English out in the world.

“In the quietness of my mind,” sherecalls, “I knew that if I’d had blonde hairand blue eyes life would have been betterfor us. It’s not that I didn’t want to beMexican, but I knew that if you weren’t,you’d have better food and a better life.So there we were, cleaning houses andgetting food stamps. In back of SafewayI’d meet Sam, a clerk who’d give uscrates of loose grapes and bruised fruit —what they were throwing away. For us,that was a treat, like Christmas. My momwould go to the bakery outlets for theday-old bread and cupcakes. We learnedto appreciate the little things.”

In school, Quiñones-Perez faced anotherbarrier. She had auditory problems, and infirst grade her mother signed the paperssending her on the bus to special educationclasses. “In those days they didn’t have sep-arate classes for the blind, or the emotional-ly disturbed or physically disabled. Wewere all lumped together. And for the next12 years, that’s how I went to school.”

Nevertheless, she graduated from highschool, the first in her family and only oneof her siblings who did. “It was a hardchildhood, but it made me a principledperson. I know right from wrong, I’mvery loyal, and I know how to work hard.But I was taught to hide my disability, andthat I was stupid.” That lasted even whenshe enrolled in Santa Monica College,where she got all C’s.

But at Santa Monica, she discovered thestudent organization MEChA — theMovimiento Estudantil Chicano de Aztlan.

Santa Monica StudentsPepper-Sprayed forProtesting Fee Hikes“It really creates segregation between the haves andthe have-nots. If you can pay, you’ll get your classes.That’s guaranteed if you have money. But if you don’thave money, you may get classes, and you may not.Community colleges were not created for this.”

— Margaret Quiñones-Perez, Santa Monica College Board of Trustees

See Santa Monica Students Sprayed page 7

“Corporations Are Not People: WE ARE THE PEOPLE!” Art by Tatiana Makovkin

July 2012 ST R E E T SP I R I T 5

by Andy Beres, National Law Centeron Homelessness and Poverty

WASHINGTON, D.C. — For the firsttime in history, public schools reportedmore than one million homeless childrenand youth, according to data released onJune 26, 2012, by the U.S. Department ofEducation. The 1,065,794 homeless stu-dents enrolled by U.S. preschools and K-12 schools in the 2010-2011 school yearis the highest number on record, and a 13percent increase over the 2009-2010school year.

This total underestimates the numberof homeless children, because it does notinclude homeless infants and toddlers,young children who are not enrolled inpublic preschool programs, and homelesschildren and youth who were not identi-fied by school officials.

Forty-four states reported year-to-yearincreases in the number of homeless stu-dents, with 15 states reporting increases of20 percent or more. States with the largestincreases in the numbers of homeless stu-dents include Kentucky (47 percent),Michigan (38 percent), Mississippi (35percent), Utah (47 percent), and WestVirginia (38 percent).

The number of homeless childrenenrolled in public schools has increased57 percent since the beginning of therecession, in the 2006-2007 school year.

In Michigan, the number of homelesschildren enrolled in public schools hasincreased 315 percent between 2008-2011. “Every single county in Michiganreported homeless children and youth inits public schools,” said Pam Kies-Lowe,coordinator for homeless education at theMichigan Department of Education.Economic conditions in the state havecontributed to the problem. “One schooldistrict referred to child and youth home-lessness as the ‘tsunami after the earth-quake’.”

Under federal law, school districts arerequired to immediately enroll homelesschildren and youth. The law also requiresthat, when it is in his or her best interest,schools ensure that homeless students canstay in the same school when forced tomove. Every school district must also des-ignate a homeless student liaison to pro-vide assistance and referrals.

“Schools are the largest provider ofservices to homeless children and youth.Education is both a safety net and a ladderup and out of poverty. “ said Mattie Lord,president of the National Association for

the Education of Homeless Children andYouth. “School districts across the nationhave responded to the increase in home-lessness by creating food pantries, devel-oping housing programs, and assigningacademic advisors.”

“As we reported in America’sYoungest Outcasts, the number of home-less children and youth in America con-tinues to increase,” said Ellen L. Bassuk,MD, president of the National Center onFamily Homelessness. “These high num-bers reinforce the urgent need to increasetargeted funding to public schools throughthe Education for Homeless Children andYouth program. A good education can putchildren and youth who are homeless onthe path to a brighter future.”

The data also shows the troublingdepth of America’s housing crisis. “Thesevere lack of affordable housing for fam-ilies has yet to be addressed, and over onemillion children are paying the price,”said Maria Foscarinis, executive directorof the National Law Center onHomelessness & Poverty. “Everyone hasa human right to safe, decent, affordablehousing. And until we make that right areality for all Americans, the number ofhomeless students will continue rising.”

Not all of the children included in the

data released today are recognized as“homeless” by the U.S. Department ofHousing and Urban Development (HUD).As a result, homeless children are eligiblefor educational assistance through localschools, but not help from HUD.Congress is considering legislation — theHomeless Children and Youth Act (H.R.32), sponsored by Congresswoman JudyBiggert (R-IL) — that makes all homelesschildren identified by public schools eligi-ble for HUD homeless assistance.

“Homeless kids shouldn’t be denied asafe place to sleep, a meal, and other basicneeds because two government agenciescan’t agree on definitions,” said BruceLesley, president of First Focus Campaignfor Children. “This data gives Congressmore than a million reasons to pass theHomeless Children and Youth Act.”

The data released on June 26 are avail-able on the website of the National Centerfor Homeless Education (NCHE) athttp://center.serve.org/nche/. NCHE is theU.S. Department of Education’s technicalassistance and information provider in thearea of homeless education.

The National Law Center on Homelessness& Poverty (NLCHP) seeks to end and preventhomelessness through advocacy, public educa-tion, and impact litigation.

One Million Students Are Homeless in America

Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. inspires young students in Grace Braithwaite’s painting, Learning At the Feet of the Master.

by Edgar Segura

Imade my first visit to the dentist lastmonth, my very first. I had never beento the dentist or had a tooth cleaning

until recently. But yes, my first time goingto a dentist was May 2012. Of course, youcan imagine I was very scared.

Growing up I didn’t have the privilegeof going to a dentist. My parents couldn’tafford it and my parent’s employers

would never offer us dental coverage, norwould I ever qualify for help under a pub-lic program to receive treatment for that.

I’m 24 years old now, and in less thansix days, I’ll be having my graduation cer-emony. I’ll be graduating with a Bachelorof Arts in Journalism. For me, it’s been adifficult struggle on multiple levels get-ting to this point.

For one, it’s been very painful havingto study for an exam with an aching, frac-tured tooth. This happened very frequent-ly to me during my undergrad years andto several of my teeth, too. It’s somethingI’ve had to hold back and keep to myselfsince I wasn’t sure how others wouldreact to this news.

It is unfortunate, though an undeniablefact, that my oral hygiene is in poor healthbecause I couldn’t afford dental care. Mydentist is great and so are the staff there,

but even she can’t reverse the damage ofgum disease with the latest tools and tech-niques modern medicine can offer.

One thing l learned from my first visitis that I have a very serious condition ofgum disease, but it is treatable. At best,this means I’m going to have eight extrac-tions. Four of those are my wisdom teeth,while the other four are far from savable.

Next month, I’m scheduled for a consul-tation on these extractions, at which pointI’ll have to come to a decision on the proce-dure. I’m anxious about this date and hesi-tant. It’s a heavy decision since the proce-dure is a debt I’ll have to carry in additionto my student loans — which I don’t have ameans of paying back at the moment.

My insurance doesn’t cover implantsand at $2,000 a tooth, I’m going to needfour of these. All this leaves me feelingbitter and upset. And helpless, especially

knowing that this could have easily beenprevented and much less painful.

Had I received dental care at an earlierand younger age, my situation would bevery different today. Over the years, Ihave found myself moving from one part-time job to another trying to meet myexpenses. But an hourly minimum wagemakes it unbearably difficult to do so,much less to build savings and plan formy future.

Quite bluntly, I’m tired of pushing thisaround in my own thoughts, pretendingthat everything is okay when it is not. Aswe move further into the 21st century andwith the presidential elections just aroundthe corner, I would like to see dental caretake equal precedence to health care inthis country. I mean come on, it’s not likeI’m asking for the world!

University Student Suffers Due to Unaffordable Dental CareEditor’s note: Longtime Street Spirit

contributor Robert L. Terrell is a journal-ism professor at Cal State University EastBay. Edgar Segura, one of ProfessorTerrell’s journalism students, wrote thisimportant account of the hidden povertymany college students face — burdenedby rising education costs, student loans,low-paying jobs and soaring medical costs.

“The Future Will Be Ours. Occupy WallStreet.” Poster art by Michelle Rogers.

“A good education can putchildren and youth who arehomeless on the path to abrighter future.”

— Ellen L. Bassuk, MD, NationalCenter on Family Homelessness

July 2012ST R E E T SP I R I T6

Short story by George Wynn

The sky is dark and threatening.Nevertheless, golf balls arewhizzing by on the greens of

Harding Park in San Francisco. Lloyd iswalking around Lake Merced, like hedoes every morning. There is a glimmerof a smile on his face while he lets a cher-ished memory run through his mind.

It seems like yesterday, but in reality itall happened three years ago, back in2009, the afternoon he heard the commo-tion up at the Stonestown Mall.

‘’Lady, lady, you can’t sleep here!” The bony, 40ish woman yawned, small

book on her lap, and eyed the StonestownBorders employee as disdainfully as heregarded her. “Lady, get going or I’mcalling security.”

She sighed heavily, but made noattempt to get up. Her body language said:“I can’t take it anymore. I hate this life.”

In the chair across from her, Lloydcould have just continued reading PaulBowles’ story “The Delicate Prey” andnot stepped in, but of course he did. Hestood up and approached her and noncha-lantly said, “Ma’am would you care tohave lunch at America’s finest diningestablishment, McDonalds?”

She shook her head with a bemusedlook. “Sir, you have got yourself a lunchpartner. And I do thank you.”

He hooked his arm in hers and theywalked out, to the astonished looks of theBorders employees and gawking patrons.

HER LEADING MAN

The wind off Lake Merced gustedbehind the Borders bookstore cafe, only afew steps away from McDonald’s. Thewind died down quickly. Lloyd unhookedhis arm from hers before they entered.

“How’s my acting?” said Lloyd.“Honey, you can be my leading man

any day.” Lloyd smiled at that.“My name’s Molly,” she said, sticking

out her hand firmly. “Lloyd. Pleased to meet you,” he said,

feeling the sweat of her hand. Molly ordered a chicken sandwich

with large fries and coffee. Lloyd settledfor a veggie salad and a carton of milk.

Molly drank her coffee fast. “I like therush of caffeine.”

“I see,” said Lloyd with a baffled look.Lloyd finished off the last of his salad

while Molly nibbled on a French fry.“Thank you for lunch,” she said. Lloyd

nodded and reached for his milk. She gavea small grin. “You’re a good man Lloyd.”

He shrugged off the compliment andtook a sip of milk. “No, just a silly,retired, meddling man.”

“What kind of work did you do,Lloyd?”

“I taught deaf youngsters for 30 years.”“Did you like it?”“Yes I did, very much.”“What did you like about it?”Lloyd raised his eyes as if he was

reflecting, but didn’t say anything. Molly repeated her question. “Lloyd...”“I’m getting there,” Lloyd said, gestur-

ing with his hand as if to say, hold on aminute.

“You all right Lloyd?”He nodded and let out a few breaths,

light as feathers. “Well, after I returnedfrom overseas, I tried to block out all theterrible sounds of war, so I felt very com-fortable with people who couldn’t hear. In acertain way, I even envied them.

“How about you?” Lloyd asked.“What’s your story?”

Molly eyed Lloyd’s tight fists and howhe slowly unwound them. He was a manwho understood pain and suffering, shewas sure of that.

DISOWNED, ALONE, ON HER OWN

She replied, “I’m a country girl, Lloyd.Grew up in a small town in Kentucky. Myfather was a fire-and-brimstone preacher.I couldn’t date or even go to the movies(the devil’s pictures, he called them). I lefthome when I was seventeen and neverbeen back. He disowned me anyway.

“I started out waitressing, then workedin factories up and down the East Coast.Fell in love with a dope addict in New YorkCity who turned me on to the hard stuff andI got hooked. Stole money and jewelry, dida little stint in jail and wound up on meanstreets U.S.A. and shelter heaven.”

“You got a place to stay now, Molly?”“Yeah. I got a shelter bed.”“That’s good,” said Lloyd.“Nothing’s good,” said Molly. “I’m

HIV, Lloyd.”“That doesn’t exclude you from the

human race,” said Lloyd firmly.“I’m clean now, Lloyd.”“That’s a start.”“Start to what? I ain’t got no future,

my life’s over.”Lloyd didn’t say anything, just stared

into her eyes. “What do you see in myeyes?” asked Molly.

“I see the drooping eyelids of sleeplessdespair. That’s all.” Lloyd closed his eyesthen opened them. “I see a woman whosociety forgot.”

She put her head on the table, thenlooked up with wet eyes. “Anything else?”

“I see a woman struggling to comforther fear.”

“You see a lot, Lloyd.”“No. I just lived a long time, maybe

too long.”He stood up and patted her on the

shoulder. “Will I see you at Borderstomorrow at two o’clock?”

Molly looked up. “Yeah,” she said in aslow voice. “I’d like that.”

“Okay then, see you.” Lloyd took a step to leave and Molly

shouted out, “Lloyd!” He turned around.“You are the strangest man,” she said.

“I know,” he said and walked out thedoor to his small apartment near the mall.

He took off his shirt and looked in themirror. Body still as hard and solid as a 45-year-old man even though he was 65.Doing 75 push-ups in the morning and 100sit-ups at night helped. He’d always stayedin shape since he’d seen the fitness guru,Jack LaLanne, on TV when he was a kid.Lloyd smiled to himself. He still had all hishair, although the blond, thick shock hadnow turned snow white.

Next day, at two o’clock, Molly wassitting again in the same chair in Borders.She regularly liked to escape the hubbubof downtown tension and take the MStreetcar out to Stonestown Mall.

Seeing her there, Lloyd smiled at heras if she were an old friend. She smiled

back with a slight laugh. She had placedher red shoulder purse on the seat next toher as if to save it for someone.

Lloyd handed her the purse and satdown. “I like your outfit,” he said. Mollywas wearing red Converse high-tops,faded pink jeans and a Mickey Mouse T-shirt. “Makes you look younger.”

“I’m 46, Lloyd.”“That’s a good age.”“You really think I look alright?”“You look good,” said Lloyd, like he

really meant it. Molly had a pretty faceand exceptionally high cheekbones thatradiated femininity.

SUNSHINE DAYS IN THE PARK

It was summer, and it was fairly warmand sunny. Wherever there was a greenblade of grass, Molly seemed more relaxed.Day in and day out, they spent time togeth-er talking and walking and driving out tothe botanical gardens in Lloyd’s usedToyota Corolla. They’d wander around thearboretum and Golden Gate Park andMolly would pick flowers for herself andLloyd, whether it was legal or not. Lloydwould merely look the other way and smileat this mild indiscretion.

One Sunday, Molly seemed less talka-tive than usual when she looked intoLloyd’s eyes and said, “I feel veryashamed of myself and the life I led.”

“You shouldn’t,” said Lloyd.“I was very much in need of a friend,

and then you came along,” said Molly andhanded Lloyd some flowers. “It’s sooth-ing to know that somebody really cares ifI live or die.”

Lloyd looked at her knowingly formany minutes, rubbed his eyebrows andsaid, “Time for ice cream,” and theywalked to the mall for a treat.

“You make me feel like a kid,” she said,licking her strawberry cone with gusto.

“Thinking young, that’s always good,”smiled Lloyd.

Then they stepped into a record storeand Lloyd browsed at a Hank WilliamsCD. “I was raised on that music,” saidMolly. “What do you like about him?”

“He told the truth.”“Yes, he did,” said Molly. Lloyd purchased the CD and a player

on sale and batteries, and listened to it onthe street for 15 minutes. Then he put theplayer and CD in the bag and handed it toMolly. “Enjoy your roots.”

“Ah Lloyd, thanks, but how come younever want nothing in return?”

“I’m just an old-fashioned sucker.”

“No, you’re not, you’re a northern gen-tleman. “You remind me of my grandpa.”

“That old huh,” chuckled Lloyd.“That kind,” smiled Molly.“My joy is in sharing,” said Lloyd.Molly pulled her wallet from her

shoulder purse and slipped a black-and-white photo of herself into Lloyd’s hand.“I want you to have this,” she said, look-ing at him with tender respect.

Lloyd nodded. “Thank you very much.” Suddenly for two weeks Molly disap-

peared. Each day Lloyd would go toBorders, but no Molly. Then one after-noon she appeared, sitting in her usualchair, looking weary and frail. WhenLloyd saw the lesions on her face andarms, he knew.

MOLLY’S HARD NEWS

“Sit down Lloyd, I could use somecomforting.”

“It’s good to see you again,” saidLloyd, patting her shoulder. “What haveyou been doing?”

“Watching my life float down the gut-ter.” She coughed. “I got the harsh newsthat I got AIDS.”

Their looks connected but Lloydremained silent. She shook her head. “Ibeen thinking about you, Lloyd. I’m

In Praise of OlderHungry Womenby George WynnIn the San Francisco of the 1950s older ladies wore glovesshopping at the Emporium

Now we see on Market Streetolder ladies with outstretched palmsand worn-out clothes with cardboard“give what you can” calling cardsin front of them reminding us ofDorothea Lange’s ruined womenof the Great Depression

If you and I enter a tranceto escape the image of their present circumstanceand go back in time we might seeyoung dreamy faces even aftera hard day’s work on the factory lineor young hearts sore but full of fightafter a long day of blows ona post-war picket line

Who knows, we just might get a true picture of their elegance

No Pity in the Cruel City Yet Friendship Flourishes

for Molly and LloydHe opened his desk drawer. Next to his medals, Lloyd fin-gered the black-and-white photo of Molly and mutelykissed it. He treasured the photo more than the medals.

Art by Christa Occhiogrosso

See Molly and Lloyd page 7

July 2012 ST R E E T SP I R I T 7

The other students talked to her about goingon to a four-year school, and in the meet-ings she got her first exposure to Chicanohistory and art. “I learned who I reallywas,” she says, “a Chicana, a woman ofMexican descent. It gave me a better imageof myself. I wasn’t hiding anymore.”

When she got to Cal State DominguezHills, she stopped hiding her disabilityalso. A statistics teacher, Barry Rosen,immediately recognized her problem andhelped her find an educational path thatplayed to her strengths. She got married,had children, was separated, and finallycompleted her BA with the help of theschool’s childcare and financial aid pro-grams. With a stipend from the Minorityand Research Careers program, shebecame a mental health researcher, which

prepared her for the job she’s had eversince — counselor at El Camino College.She eventually got a masters’ degree atthe University of Southern California, anda doctorate at UCLA.

At El Camino, she joined the unionright away. “I’ve always been a union-ista,” she laughs. Today she’s first vice-president of the El Camino Federation ofTeachers, AFT Local 1388, and its politi-cal action chair. She mobilizes membersfor initiatives like the current tax reform,while working with local reps.

“We’ve got very ugly negotiations goingon now,” she says, “and the district hasimposed a contract on us, so we’re likely tohave some job actions. But I’ve learnedover the years that if you don’t raise yourvoice, nothing will ever happen.”

For 22 years at El Camino, she was alsoa single parent, making it necessary to get

additional part-time counseling jobs atCerritos and Santa Monica Colleges and inmigrant education programs. “But I neverleft El Camino,” she emphasizes. “A jobthere was security for my children — a pay-check and healthcare.” She discovered thather children had learning disabilities, just asshe’d had. That made her a fighter for them,and other students like them.

When they became students in SantaMonica, Quiñones-Perez ran for the boardof education of the Santa Monica MalibuUnified School District, and served there 12years. “No one knew my kids were atUnified,” she explains. “But I knew that if Iwasn’t fighting for them and other studentsof color, the system would fail them.There’s a stigma to special ed that makeskids feel vulnerable and different. I wantedthem to feel they could do anything.”

After they’d graduated, she ran for thecollege district board and won. She looksat the students from the Pico neighbor-

hood, the poor barrio of Santa Monica,and thinks, “We can do better for them.”

That’s one reason why Tsang’s proposalmakes her angry. “They just want to createmore classes and sell them at a time whenwe aren’t looking at the impact on the stu-dents who need us the most. What’s theretention rate for kids of color? What arewe doing to get them through?”

Quiñones-Perez is proud of SantaMonica College. “We have a wonderfulreputation and a great faculty. Some stu-dents take two or three busses from a longways away just to come here, becausethey believe it will help them get to afour-year school. But I fear that if they’recoming from poor communities, they’llget locked out.”

That’s clearly a fear she shares withthe students who were pepper-sprayed asthey tried to get into the meeting wherethe decision on their future was hangingin the balance.

from page 4

Santa Monica Students Pepper-Sprayed

always thinking about you.”“I’ve been worried about you, Molly.”“My sores are vile, Lloyd. Do they

bother you?”“They’re not vile, they’re rotten luck.

Listen Molly, I was in a veterans hospitalwith soldiers with no limbs. So whywould some little lesions bother me?” Heheld her hands in a fatherly manner andgave her an assuring smile.

“I don’t want to die, Lloyd,” she said.

FLASHBACKS OF VIETNAM

He squeezed his fists, flashing back tothe horrifying screams of innocent, dying,young soldiers in Vietnam, pleading fortheir mothers. So hard to stay calm in cri-sis situations, Lloyd thought to himself.

“The doctor said I might have to go tothe hospital pretty soon. If things get worse,the nurse said hospice might be in the cards

for me.” Her voice had a grave tone. “I hatemy body. I failed it.” She sighed. “Whatwould you call my predicament, Lloyd?”

“Like I said — rotten luck. Life is sounfair.”

“I’m bitter Lloyd.”Lloyd braced himself. “Enough talk-

ing,” he said. “Let me buy you some hotchocolate in the mall.”

Molly rubbed her eyes and said, “Thatsounds fine Lloyd.” She finished the restof her hot chocolate and reached up towipe the stream of tears from her face.Lloyd handed her several napkins.

“I don’t feel well, Lloyd. I think theGood Lord will take me pretty soon.”Becoming irritated, she said, “I don’twant to go to no hospital or hospice.”

MOLLY’S TRAGIC EYES

Lloyd looked into her tragic eyes andsaid, “You can stay with me a few days.”

He let her sleep in his bedroom while heslept on the couch. For two days he cookedfor her, and his warm hands smoothed her

forehead. He tried to keep her spirits up.She was weak but not overly so.

“I want to give up Lloyd,” she pouted.Lloyd spoke slowly and firmly, “Never

give up Molly.”Often she’d stare out into the distance

as if she were looking beyond the worldor just looked at him for a long while. Atthese moments, a profound silence wouldtake possession of the apartment.

She hadn’t been sleeping well, butweariness got the better of her and she fellinto a deep sleep in the bedroom. Lloyd hadan oppressive dream and was in turmoil.

At last the day dawned. He rose fromthe couch, dressed quickly, put on hisshoes and went to check on Molly.

Her face was rigid. He shook her hardand pounded on her pulse, but she did notcome to. He touched her arm and shoul-der. They felt cold. He grasped the fingersof her hand. They were ice cold and stiffand her heartbeat was no longer audible.

She was dead, and Lloyd heard the

screams of war inside his head again. Hebreathed heavily and grasped her hand forthe final time and said, “Goodbye Molly.You were a good friend.”

He opened his desk drawer. Next to hismedals, he fingered the black-and-whitephoto of Molly and then mutely kissed it.He treasured the photo more than themedals. Tears were slowly rolling downhis cheeks and for the first time in his lifehe did not try to keep them back.

Lloyd has almost circled the lake whenhe remembers Molly once saying “Lloyd,it’s a tough old world.”

He bows his head and doesn’t lengthenhis stride as the rain comes pouring down.

He thinks to himself, in the imagina-tion anything is possible. He imaginesMolly as a spiritual companion burieddeep inside himself. All of a sudden hehears her voice: “For God’s sake, Lloyd.Get out of the rain!”

Amid a deep stillness he raises his chin,lengthens his stride and breaks into a run.

from page 6

Molly and Lloyd

by Jack Bragen

Apopular interpretation ofBuddhist thought is that theconditions of life are the samefor everyone since every per-

son on the planet is subject to birth, suf-fering and death, and that, furthermore, itmakes no real difference what one’s spe-cific life circumstances are; suffering iscreated by ignorance. I don’t know if thisis a completely accurate interpretation ofwhat Buddhism says, or a distortion fos-tered by “new age” thinking.

However, whether or not the above isthe message of Buddha, I somewhat dis-agree with the “new age” belief of somepeople that “it’s all in your mind.”Wealthy people with their lives of com-fort, safety and indulgence are subject tofar less suffering in their lives comparedto poor people, sick people, and victims ofviolence.

When someone is financially well off,it is a cushion against the physical suffer-ing that must be endured by poor people.Even when sick, a rich person is restingon clean sheets, in a heated and air-condi-tioned house, and has the best people car-ing for him or her. The rich person mustface the end of life, too. However, the cir-cumstances under which a rich personleaves this life are likely much easier thanfor a poor person.

People who are born into wealth mightbe more subject to the kind of sufferingthat is created by egotism and arrogance.When safety and physical comfort are agiven, the human mind seeks petty rea-sons to create suffering. But, if someoneis wounded, sick, starving, or physically

threatened, it might be too tall an ordernot to suffer, even for those who havepracticed meditation for decades.

It is obvious that physical suffering ismuch harder to deal with, compared tobeing physically well and having unhappyemotions. Unhappiness because of notgetting the things one wants in life com-pared to severe physical suffering is like aflea bite in comparison to an amputation.And yet, your bank balance and yourcredit rating shouldn’t determine whetheror not you must live with danger, vio-lence, sickness and hunger.

Incarceration is one of the worst causesof human suffering. How often are thosewhose income is in excess of a milliondollars ever incarcerated? They can affordthe best lawyers, and it is almost a guaran-tee that they won’t be wrongfully chargedwith a crime. If poor, a person is subjectto conviction because of physically

resembling a person who really commit-ted a crime. (That’s one reason why DNAevidence can be so important. It hasrecently cleared the names of some whohave been wrongfully accused.)

Why is it that the one percent continueto gain an ever-increasing share of themoney and the 99 percent are doing sopoorly? For one thing, the members of theone percent are in positions of power.This allows them to have control overwho gets the money. The one percenthave conspired to keep all of the wealth tothemselves and to deprive anyone whoisn’t in their club. This behavior hascaused our economy to grow stagnant.

If you own a store, you can probably getaway with paying your employees as littlemoney as possible. You can fire thembefore they become eligible for pensions,unemployment and other benefits. You canfire them if they ask for a raise. You can

fire them just because you want to. If you own a business, you make the

rules, and you can keep most of the profitsfor yourself. You can use predatory pric-ing to put yourself in a monopolistic posi-tion, and when your competitors havegone out of business, you can raise pricesso that people can barely afford yourproducts.

The problem is not that people aren’tplaying by the rules of the game; theymostly are. The problem is that the onepercent has learned ways to tweak thebusiness and economic environment insuch a way that they can receive massiveamounts of wealth while depriving others.

Why do people continue to behave inthis way, amassing piles of wealth whileothers go hungry? I expect that the reasonpeople do this — which is seemingly theuniversal reason why people commit cruelactions — is because they can.

The Rich Are Shielded from the Suffering of the Poor

Poor and disabled people who suffer on the streets undergo hardships that the rich avoid. (rainbow) Art by Jonathan Burstein

July 2012ST R E E T SP I R I T8

by Janny Castillo

“We are the community of survivors.We are not the people without a name,without a face, but we are people that willwrite a history because we have held theseeds for a new way, we have been thehealers, we have been the story tellers,and it is that which must be heard now!”— Corinne Kumar, World Courts founder,speaking at the US Courts of Women onPoverty, Western Region

Aspecial gathering on the “USCourts of Women on Poverty,Western Region” was held in

Oakland from May 10-13. The gatheringgenerated a thoughtful discourse on viablegrassroots solutions to alleviate the effectsof poverty in our communities.

The Courts of Women on Poverty wereheld in Oakland, a city of extreme con-trasts — from the hills of green abun-dance and million-dollar homes to a park-ing lot at Eastmont Mall, where a home-less woman sleeps in her car with threesmall children; from the lights and musicof downtown Oakland to the graffiti-satu-rated and litter-filled streets of WestOakland. Oakland was mother to peoples’revolutions way before Occupy tents setup in the town square. It was righteousthat WEAP, the Women’s EconomicAgenda Project, chose Oakland’s LaneyCollege as the site for the first US Courtsof Women on Poverty.

Corrine Kumar, founder of the WorldCourts of Women on Poverty, describedthe purpose of the event. She said, “Thecourts of women are expressions of a newimaginary refusing that human rights bedefined and confined only to that whichhas been hegemonic. These articulationsare finding new ways of speaking truth topower, challenging the different notions ofpower, recognizing that the concepts andcategories enshrined in the ideas and insti-tutions of human rights are insufficient tograsp the violence (of poverty). The courtsare creating another civic authority.”

Corrine Kumar, along with The AsianWomen’s Human Rights Council and ElTaller International, and a large collabora-tion of networks in different countries,have organized over 30 courts globally.

Organizations from across the UnitedStates sent representatives to the gather-ing, including Philadelphia’s PoorPeople’s Economic Rights Campaign,Portland’s Sisters of the Road, Women’sEconomic Advocacy Project (WEAP), theAlameda County Community Food Bank,Building Opportunities for Self-Sufficiency (BOSS), Hip Hop Congress,Lifetime, SEIU Local 1021 and St.Mary’s Center. These were a few of morethan 60 organizations that helped plan this“history-making” four-day event.

Ethel Long Scott, WEAP’s executivedirector, said, “There has never been a timein this country of such tremendous oppor-tunities and tremendous disparities. Thereis nothing quite like this globalization ofcapitalism. We at WEAP have a focus onmaking economic security and justiceavailable to large numbers of people acrossthis globe and. most particularly. in thiscountry. We have this idea that poverty isviolence! We are dedicated to not only ele-vating the national discourse, but alsoadvancing the vision of the need for eco-nomic human rights. (We’re) dedicated toachieving a few small things: accessible,comprehensive health care for all, frombirth to death, and a living wage so that wemight thrive and not simply survive.”

The Court brought together expertsfrom the different perspectives of theEconomic Equity movement. Keynotespeakers included Kay McMay, former

president of the California NursesAssociation, Richard Monje, internationalvice-president of Workers United, andcommunity activist Emma DeniceMilligan, teacher and writer for WEAP.

The truth-sayers and heart of the eventwere the personal and video testimonies ofthose affected by poverty, unemployment,homelessness and suffering from an inade-quate health care system. The gatheringreached consensus in declaring, “The sys-tem is broken. The people are not.”

The panelists spotlighted the scope ofthe problem and solutions to core issuessuch as poverty, jobs and immigration,foreclosures, homelessness and povertyrights, environment and the justice sys-tem, healthcare for the 99% and organiz-ing for a quality public education.

Ashley Proctor, a panelist on“Healthcare for the 99%,” shared her story.Ashley has a disease which has deterioratedher throat system. Beginning at age 10, shewent undiagnosed for 12 years. She saw 34doctors who told her, without looking downher throat, that there was nothing wrongwith her. She remembers, at age 22, sharingbaby food with her son, because that was allshe could eat.

“One day a lady at my church told me Iwas too skinny and that I was going todie,” she said. The lady, who was a nurse,took one look and recommended an upperGI exam. After the procedure, the doctorwas amazed that Ashley was still talking.“ I weighed 97 pounds,” Ashley said. “Myglands were permanently swollen and theinside of my throat no longer existed.”

On the same panel, Vanessa Nguyen,BOSS community organizer and SuitcaseClinic volunteer, talked about her experi-ence. She said, “Folks in poverty are liv-ing in neighborhoods with tons of vio-lence, walking home is stressful, scary,dangerous. Stress causes a slew of healthissues, like stress-eating, smoking, drugs.Health and poverty are intertwined.”

Song, dance and poetry textured thedays with color, great music and rich cul-ture. Many times, the audience wasbrought to their feet in applause from per-formances by Antique Naked Soul, LasBomberas de la Bahia, DeLabrie, Mamaz,Rahman Jamaal, Shamako Nobel,Revolutionary Poets Brigade and YouthSpeaks.

On day two, BOSS director boonacheema led a California Partnership pressconference, and Oakland Mayor JeanQuan spoke in support.

On day three, Rep. Barbara Lee shared

that there is a serious push to cut billionsof dollars from food stamp programs andfrom the Preventive Health Care Fund, afund that helps women. Rep. Lee said,“Women of the world unite! Women’sleadership really defines whether theworld will move forward or go back-wards.”

The court culminated in a presentationby the jurors who were charged to witnessthe proceedings and draft a resolution thatwill be shared with three other courts inplanning stages in other parts of theUnited States. Ultimately, a U.S. contin-gent will present a U.S. Courts of Womenon Poverty Resolution at the GenevaUnited Nations Human Rights Council.

Here is an excerpt from the JurorResolution: “The hurt heart, the damagedspirit must have a place to heal. The USCourts of Women on Poverty has createdthe space for this unstoppable healing tobegin.... We, the Jurors of the US Courtsof Women on Poverty, on this day whichis Mother’s Day, bear witness to the suf-fering of our mothers and the pain of oursons and daughters. We bear witness tothe violence of battery, criminal injustice,homelessness, mental illness and physicalviolence, food insecurity and economicalgenocide — indeed, the extreme violenceperpetrated by poverty and the capitalistsystem....

“We, the Jurors of the US Courts ofWomen on Poverty, Western Region,hold the United States Government andcorporations responsible and accountablefor the multitude of gross human rightsviolations that have barred the way tobasic human rights such as affordablehousing, health and mental health care,quality education, right to justice and dig-nity, and the right to exist and thrive in afree and true democracy.”

Special thanks are due to WEAP andEthel Long-Scott for taking the lead onorganizing the first World Courts onWomen ever held in the United States.

In the inspiring words of CorrineKumar: “We ask the powerful of theworld, the giant multinationals, the rich inthe richest country of the world, we askyou to look into the eyes of your children.What stories will you tell them? Will youtell them that once upon a time, not so longago, when millions of people in Americawere living on the streets, when millionsdid not have health care, or food, housingor work, when millions of poor peoplehave fallen through the holes in the safetynet, that they, The Powerful, only looked

away? Will you tell them you had noanswers and accepted only violent ones? ...What will you tell your children?”

Janny Castillo is a community organizer atBOSS in Berkeley, and was a juror at theOakland gathering of the US Courts of Womenon Poverty, Western Region.

‘The System Is Broken — The People Are Not’Courts of Women on Poverty launch a challenge to economic injustice in the U.S.

We Looked Like FlowersSong by Carol Denneywe looked like flowerswhen we were youngwe looked like angelsevery oneour skin was beautifulour eyes were brightwe sleep in doorwaysnight after night

asking for handoutsis no one's desiremakes you so small insidemakes you so tiredjust have to roll with whatever goes byand want to surrenderand just want to die

we built all the bridgeswe fought all the warsnow it's just sirensthe slamming of doorsthe slamming of jail cellsagain and againonce we were soldiersonce we were workersnow we're just them

they look at our clothingthey look at our shoesour troubles and storiesare yesterday's newsif we were puppiesthey'd throw us a boneif we were childrenthey'd take us all home

wish I had wingswish I could flymake me a home somewhereup in the skywhere nobody hateswhere nobody stareswhere somebody listenswhere somebody cares

night after night day after daylooking for mercyto meet us halfwaythey want us to leavebut where do we gowe are just peoplethey don’t want to know

Women from more than 60 organizations gather in Oakland to expose the causes of poverty and injustice. Jon-Mychal Cox photo