Today, I feel like writing. I want to write. And words are dripping out of me, spilling, so that they cover this page in decent floods.

A physical release of all that magic swirling inside moment by moment week by week. Barack Obama today signed an 18-month plan to remove troops from Iraq, and yet, I believe retransition some into Afghanistan. It baffles me why in these economic (and non-economic) crisis times why the U.S. finds the war expeditures in the budget lines as a necessary project. A project that needs to extend beyond now, on through 18 more months. What else is a justifiable reason to continue to occupy?

So many of U.S. troops have been returning to the states and trying to readjust into the U.S. rhythm and cycle. The trauma of war followed by the lack of job opportunities create another market for a future war I suppose. I hope that our country and others do not allow that.

A person came to our office today to talk about "immigration" and telling "young immigrants' stories through flip cameras." After speaking with his desire to "get down and dirty" on immigration "from the ground," I've finally realized how hot and spicy digital media technology projects have become for funders. Not to knock the person, but almost seemed like a haphazard plan of wanting any and all kinds of them there immigrants to speak about anything immigration so that people opposed to immigration, so that "regular Americans" could see a human face. I don't know why but I'm not interested in that framework. Why do "immigrants" (besides indigenous communities, who is not an immigrant, dude) constantly need to take defensive and present our lives as a jesture of "please accept me"? Somebody give me 25 flip cameras, I'd love to tell so much better stories.

I'm helping plan an office retreat. It's exhausting. My art project for the day was to draw 6 months, making each cell 5inches by 4inches. In the process, I got to share my story. How I got into this kind of work, what were the moments of politicization, and what keeps me at the current organization... I also had to share this last week for an interview with an Urban Planning Professor at UCLA. It's interesting how I've created a little narrative for myself that involve a mix of: contradictions as a young desi girl in my community, as a young girl of color growing up, as a daughter of immigrants still navigating complex social and legal structures, and a path of volunteerism, student activism and then a full on jump into connecting with good community orgs. I'm amazed and celebratory at how far I've come, we've come -- the various people in the process with me, alongside me. It's refreshing to take a moment to reflect like this on the who, what, when, where and why. And to recognize that it's not over yet.

And the, there's that personal life. The Angeleno beat-soul-live formula that necessitates a car, activities, and people to facilitate/ engage in those activities. Tonight, I invited people over to the place. And while out of 35 possible people, only 6 showed up, it was still good. It was still good to be around a kind of preparation that is not for a workshop, teach-in, class, meeting, youth grroup, residents committee, date, case, phone conference or webinar. The purchasing of select foods, moving them with hands, cutting, cooking, sizzling, and baking sounds, smells, and touches all build up an experience of communal gathering and sharing that I so deeply deeply miss. So those 6 people got to share in this chance to sustain with food and stories. A process I find myself having less and less time for.

Like writing. Like pouring words onto a brightly lit page. Like waiting for a magic moment of peace, esteem, love, and confidence. Knowing that even if the variables, puzzle pieces, paths are yet to come and fit in, there is always a story to tell, something about that process that brings us back together, marking ourselves, over and over again.

With love,
p

What makes cents/ sense?

Articles of interest... interest as in, accruing more knowledge for the stealth, more wealth for the wealthy, in the future of course.

...ruminating to come...


A) If we are in and were in and were heading towards a predicted economic crisis/ recession/ bubble burst, then why did we spend 700 million dollars ON the world's largest EMBASSY? On Monday, Jan 5th, we...

"Inaugurated the largest - and most expensive - embassy ever built."

That's the U.S. embassy in Iraq folks! And here! Gawd even foxnews had some quotations from people shedding negative light on this hypocritical development.

"The idea of an embassy this huge, this costly, and this isolated from events taking place outside its walls is not necessarily a cause for celebration," architectural historian Jane Loeffler wrote in Foreign Affairs in 2007."

B) Speaking of inaugurations... isn't there one coming up? That's right, Mr. Hussein will take the oath before 12 Noon on Tuesday, Jan 20th. That means for peeps in the West Coast, we gotta wake up hella/ hecka early yo. (How's my Bay Area talk working?) So, um, I might not go to work on time, so I can join in some U.S. nationalism and change (all at once), and weep for this black man.

and weep because this country has been in such bad shape.

So, hey! What's Michelle gonna wear? Doh! Seriously? Let's ask Vogue?


C) Old news, but refresh your page please, as some letter writing in some reproductive justice groups is happening...

did you know that... if you are a young immigrant girl or woman, ages 11-26, trying to enter or permanently reside in the U.S. you have to have the HPV Vaccination? Mandatory!

Nothing more exciting than an extra $360 to your immigration application. Thanks medical-industrial-pharmaceutical friends, like Merck, who did much of its clinical testing of this vaccine in India. And here for more mainstream coverage on Merky-waters.



Anyways, enuf for this colored girl whose rainbow is shutting down for the night, shange.

Peace!

Re-New-als: 2009 will be Divine!

New Years mark a change in our calibration of time, present a continual point of reference, offer us a sense of self, and give the opportunity of renewal.

Something about a fresh start, like a blank sheet of paper is invigorating. Oh the possibilities to sketch and write whatever!

While January 1st has always been a day to spend at home with the family - a day of prayer and well wishes for a blessed, healthy, and happy New Year, a day of recognizing and thanking the earth for another year of life to experience what it has to offer - the power of the freshness of the year never sinks in until mid-January, usually week 3.

Sometime around January 17 or 18, after Martin Luther King Jr.'s day, is when the page begins to look possible, plans map themselves out in repetition, and enough time passes that writing the date and calendering events actually holds the correct number at the end of 2-0-0-? .

Until then, its playing and toying and visioning new possibilities...

---

I've been trying to recharge at home, in chance to be ready for what this new year and new semester will bring. Here's what some of the vision holds, something that a map will help plan out:

* Another opportunity to teach a media class
* Finishing our film project on gentrification in Little Dhaka in Koreatown
* More chances to build with the Desi and our multiethnic community in Los Angeles
* Good opportunities to learn about issues of reproductive and gender justice
* Possibilities for future film projects with youth

On a personal level:

* Cooking with yummy vegetables!
* Attending dance class
* Some yoga
* Better at maintaining connections with and supporting friends and family
* Watch even more films!
* More "me time" for reflection, writing, and balancing
* Time to practice in a spirituality that fosters self-growth
* More art projects!

Here's a reflection on the holidays:

Family Time equals Ridiculousness with the Cousins


Take 2:


Movies I watched with the mom and/ or sis:



Overall, a good end to a year of surprising personal growths, love, and education.

Happy 2009! May your year be just divine!

<3

Thoughts from the Homeland

Do you have a place you go to that renews you and puts you at ease? A place of comfort, that when the world is even slightly off-balance, it nurtures and challenges you to push yourself back into some perspective and self-gathering or self-determination?

For me, that place is sometimes geographically bound to my room in our home in Florida. Sometimes, it requires no geography, per se, but more so the minds and hearts of those who reared me to be who I am. Today, I have both.

...

I chose to follow my heart in my current "day-job" but it is, honestly, a tiring and low-paying passion. My supervisor is leaving this passion behind full-time for these very reasons. She is an inspiration to me and while I found out a little over 24 hours ago, I'm still freaking out. [[HOW can I do this WITHOUT her???]

...

I believe that we should always push ourselves to grow. Put ourselves in positions, experiences, programs, spaces that will allow us to build on ourselves and challenge ourselves to seek better in our lives and our local communities. I believe this is part of the process of change and justice -- this understanding on how to maneuver through what has happened and what should happen.

Then, there is the other kind of "grow." The one that society throws on you, a heightened responsibility attributed to your being due to age. This could be bills, relationships, parenthood, purchasing a home, marriage. You know. Those scary things, that some may consider to be the very institutions that oppress us or make us complicit in certain economic, social projects. (Eh, nothing wrong with a home, kids, or the R-word, though, if done accountably).

...

Somehow, all of these are weighing on me. I began asking my father 1) how much should i save for taxes (oh, how a "marriage" would be good right now!) 2) how much should i have to buy a home (oh, how my current passion-profession will make this take years... YEARS!) 3) and how long will it take before i can afford to ... adopt.

I mean, I'm not yet a quarter of a century old and somehow, I ended up here! and here! and here!

...

s l o w down. breathing in. perspective. living life with my heart, with a vision to do. seeking out the methods and tools in which to engage. gathering information, re-gathering self. it comes. breathing out. v-i-s-i-o-n-i-n-g anew.

Oh, all the changes...

I feel like everytime I write, I start with... "It's been awhile." But the truth is, it has.

Three months. And SO much has happened: A black president with a muslim middle name. Widespread homophobia. Defeating Parental Notification for the third time. Confusing voter choices for sure. Along with an economic "crisis" of vast proportions: $700,000 bailouts for banks (aka socialism for the rich), an increasing foreclosure rate, and the largest number of unemployed people in the U.S. for 25 years.

I myself have been scared several times that different family members would lose their jobs (though some fam's business have been down for a few years, so the "crisis" is not new for many people). And still, now with the entire country in crisis, there comes a stronger effect on those on the vulnerable fringes. And I see it through my work.

Yes, the other new thing, is, I have a job. Two jobs. But one, a teaching job, will end soon. The other, I wrap my head, heart, and soul around to process the daily injustices that take place and continue to disenfranchise those in our communities at the fringes. In the past month alone, our tenant's-related calls have been increasing - from evictions to section 8 inquiries and applications. And people have been calling at the worst stages of their eviction cases and habitability problems. One repeated lesson: tenant's laws suck major, but at least there is a Rent Stabilization Ordinance in place. In Miami, there aren't even basic tenant's protections. Each case is done case by case.

And, yet, Tuesday night, hundreds, thousands, perhaps millions of people were cheering for this man, figure, almost-icon. A historic moment indeed, for all those who closely and intimately recongize the racist and xenophobic policies and attitudes of exclusion in the U.S. For crying out loud, a BLACK man. Whose middle name, I emphasize, is Hussein. And more excitingly, Bush regime will be out soon, and no McCain to re-continue Bush's alarmingly harming anti-immigrant, surveillance-oriented, homophobic, sexist, and racist practices.

So what worries me: the sanctioning of hatred around explicit homophobia. That the SAME people voting for a "liberal" black man, also voted to ban equal rights for queer people. And while marriage offers a whole set of messy institutional concerns and histories rooted in patriarchy all in its own, there are definite ways that instituting Proposition 8 gets marked as a part of "protecting the family" from "the gays" (and not divorce?).

And what also worries me: the easy "buy-in" to Mr. President-Elect Obama (nice ring, eh). Yes, he has a charismatic smile, a pretty family, and magical oratorical skills that make me want to listen to him over and over and over again. (I mean, come on, he did caution the U.S. and all his campaigners that getting him elected is NOT the end. How magical that he challenged the masses of people that came out to continue to come out.) And yet, in some sense, I fear his words, "continue to come out," are a prophesy of sorts; a suggestion because he knows that he will not be able to do what "he" wants or what "we" want. He will have to do what the seat wants. The $$ that funds his seat. And we will see socialism for the rich repeat.

I'm excited for the blackness of Obama. I'm excited for the smartness of Michelle. I'm excited for the prospect of changes; other than that, Obama, I'm not so sure where you will take us in regards to immigration. What you will do to ban homophobia, racism, sexism, and hate? How will you disentangle our country's financial mess besides the $700 billion bail-outs?

I somehow think, the answer, will be, and should be, s t i l l u p t o u s.

thinking in circles...

Dear Friends,

Its been awhile since I have written. Apologies.

I've been preoccupied with a big transition: deciding whether to continue working in the awesome space that I started at already, continuing building the infrastructure and community leaders, and developing some killer and strategic programming for youth, residents, community members. OR. moving home, to work in the community I grew up in.

It has been an internal crisis of sorts for myself. To work on immigration, youth isolation to youth power, anti-displacement, and gender justice in a community that I care about, or to work at home. Where no one has funding either. Where programs I am applying for are already cut!

It's confusing and I'm pretty sure, 2 months later, I am nowhere near figuring it out. I've given myself to the end of the week.

---

IN the meantime, we had two awesome meetings this weekend. One with a youth group that is growing and developing. A workshop on migration, privilege, and power. The tenant's group spent time on changes in community, gentrification, and decision-making power. Both groups want to move forward with education for actions.

My own transition from an educator/ forever-student to an educator/ forever-student/ in an organization gives me different people to learn from, grow with, that aren't dictated to me by a "university" or a "school district." Rather we meet through experience, geography, and desire.

---

This also leads me to desire to know more about strategies of organizing. SUCCESSES.

While I know about the civil rights movements, struggles rooted in those Alabama Buses, a legacy that always proudens the U.S. South, I know about some of the labor figures for people of color, I know about those anti-colonial struggles in France, South Asia, Philippines, Haiti, Hawaii and Guam, I know about the idols for me in recent women of color organizing, I still want to know more about the models and theories that my peers have used.

While extra school afforded me more time, time to think, think and learn, learn and grow, teach and learn and grow, I still want a systemized structural understanding of the process in which to engage our communities to dismantle oppressive systems. And not just in the localized sense, which I find effective. I want to know the broader picture. So tonight, I will read all that google and wiki allow me to find.

Much love,
p

Good People, Music, Food

Wow. It's been a while since I posted -- I think it has to do with my thesis writing schedule and the job (at the same time!) Here's something that came out last night:

Today is one of those nights you know you're not supposed to go to sleep. Instead, you should sit around a couch and keep talking. We played old school songs. Music videos from back when. Listening to (mainstream) reggae and r & b.

It was matched by a day of doing the same. Listening to the beats and rhythms of goapele, the roots, and random jazz jam sessions. We sat in the open-aired field that made ucla feel more like a people's university. The crowd was 80% people of color, a body politic that subverted what ucla normally looks like, feels like. the possibilites of how westwood coulda been an area with music and spaces inhabited by poc, like uf's scene was at times.

Blankets, and chill time, and beats, and food, it reminded me of rastafari vegetarian food from florida. so good and soulful.. the shop near liberty city, the shop off university in gainesville. good energy, good vibes, good food inside, good love.

i hopped from koreatown, making copies, and double-sided, four-per-sheet, post-card size on the 8.5 x 11. using that damn cutter-blade thing reminded me of undergrad student organizing as well. i got this, i tell myself, i know this.

down wilshire, cutting through ktown, through museum room, through that white-town that shall not be named, and then into more of it, called westwood. i found parking on the street. walked. and jammed. the crowds were not overwhelming, though the food prices were.

this is the first time in a long time that im writing a reflexive/ reflective piece. now that the thesis is done, maybe this will come back.

this week was a whirlwind, especially thursday-friday. point 1: sister and college. major stresser. just keep telling myself that even though the school she's in will demoralize her, at least its still a school that accepted her??? no. thats still messed up. i want her to be with people of color. other immigrant and working class, lower middle class communities that she can relate to.
point 2: future-oriented questions. i don't know! everythings in a stage of nascency right now. anything could happen. connections are being made. change will come. just not sure in which direction, but open, excitied, and happy. point 3: thesis.

but thank goddess that's done. done. done. a few formatting changes. some edits. but lets hope. thats done done done.

and so this weekend. reminded me of what its like to sit and chill. sit and chill and talk. and decompress.

after the festival, i went to the boishaki mela. same old kids singing the same old songs dancing the same old bharatanatyam dances. and we handed out our flyers. translated. one on the clinic and one on prop 98, 99. people would ask me in bangla, but i'd have to speak back in english. i hate that part of this job. language is an essential essential aspect of organizing. when the youth group came out (finally! - and all prim and dressed), it went smoothly. after we handed out the fliers, we chilled too. talked about, you know. dating and the like. parents. food.

meeting up with the other folks, chilling on the couch, and catching up over sean paul, kevin little, monica, aaliyah, brandy, and yes, usher and common and erykah... it felt good good good good good.

im good right now. i know that things will be good. for all of us in my family. for my dad, my sister and i. my mom can rest soon. and it'll make sense. im just waiting.

until then, i need more nights like these. more couches. more music. more conversations. more food. and of course that bit of social justice worked in....

General Reflections: Personal and "Public" Health

I'm sitting down to write again, after a long day of wrestling with bills. Did I get paid for my teaching assistantship and the research? (Yes and NO!) Did I put together all the tax information for that infamous up and coming day? (No.) Did I clear the library bills? (Kind of). Did I clear all the medical bills? (HELL NO.)

The student health insurance plan is covered through United Healthcare. I know that other healthcare providers in Los Angeles are really difficult for people outside of this insular university sphere, such as Kaiser. I used to think my plan was "good" -- I get a fellowship, and that pays for the Graduate Student Health Insurance Plan. Great. Fees to see a nurse practitioner -- none. Rates of accupuncture for post-accident therapy - $25 a session. Nice. Co-pay for Eye-visit - $10. Wow.

Shit. I shoulda read the fine print. Emergency Room visit, 15 other random lab tests, and a CT scan - hella co-pays. Now, many people have written about the "medical-industrial complex,"

The medical-industrial complex (MIC) refers to the health industry, which is composed of the multibillion-dollar congeries of enterprises including doctors, hospitals, nursing homes, insurance companies, drug manufacturers, hospital supply and equipment companies, real estate and construction businesses, health systems consulting and accounting firms, and banks. As employed by the Ehrenreichs, the concept conveys the idea that an important (if not the primary) function of the health care system in the United States is business (that is, to make profits)

the perils of the privatization of health care insurance, and the overall lack of competency in the U.S. medical public health institution in understanding the ways that race, class, gender, sexuality and immigration play into health care access, services and navigability. Today was another opportunity to witness that garbage.

Something about, being charged an amount I currently cannot afford, explaining it on the phone to my mother, and listening to my father, made me cry. I was on the shuttle, and just sort of, broke down. She calmed me, told me not to worry, and we'd figure out a way. Fax the information to her. I'm such a kid still, I guess. She told me about when she had her first C-section, her first hospital trip in this country, and saw all the medical bills then, she too cried. She really worried and wondered how they were going to get it together. I guess she had really good insurance then, because she told me that she was able to get it covered.

That was the first time she told me a story like that. How isolated she must have felt. She told me they didn't even have a penny at that time to give to the medical industry - the hospital, the medicines, the ER, the surgery. Then, of course, she told me to pray and that it will all go away. I think for now, I'll still resort to organizing as a means of "praying," but walking down the extra street instead of immediately going to the next location did give me a sense of space from these worries. Just gotta keep sensibility in our day to day. Lesse what momma gots up her sleeves.

New Salon, More Gender Justice: WOW Beauty Opens on Washington

I have to speak on the radio tomorrow for KPFK’s Feminist Magazine about NAPAWF Los Angeles. I’m not nervous but I’m curious as to what will come out of my mouth. The topic of course, is about NAPAWF’s work, particularly on a local, chapter level. This is tough because it has been slow and growing – and mostly policy. Honestly, I don’t know much about the policy.

But the manager of the show wants us to talk about IT issues ---- you know, NAPAWF’s engagement with Trafficking, about Nail Salon Workers. The condition of the workers.

So I decided: perfect time to plug SAN’s actions with “the ZIBA five.” On January 15^th, ZIBA fired five of its women from their threading salons because they had been protesting a decrease in wage and commission. Most of the women at ZIBA are South Asian recent immigrants and dealing with the harsh working conditions at such salons -- the constant repetitive motion of threading in the neck, plus continuous hours on their feet, all while bending over. The women were able to stage a walk out, along with over 20 other employees, against the previous Ziba contracts requiring a decrease in their wages, despite the growing number of ZIBA locations (and thus profit) throughout Southern California! They even got to negotiating a contract with better working conditions for those who continued at ZIBA.

But I'm also writing because, I spent my evening NOT writing.

Instead, I attended the opening of the women's new Salon; it's called WOW Salon. Located at 10836 Washington Blvd (just added it to google maps- woot). It was a celebration involving friends and family. A, sort of, immigrant's dream, right? Minus the exploitation! But really, what a great example of gender justice -- the process of empowerment, self-determination and economic development. Tell your friends, ladies, gents and gender non-conformers - plenty of opening sale coupons and the prices are reasonable!

I hope the show goes well tomorrow. But more so, good luck to the WOW women in their new salon.

p

The Acknowledgments Page

I find myself writing in here again today. A good friend is in town. Someone I grew up with, from our community. We lost touch somewhere in middle school years but reconnected through temple activities in high school. We ended up traveling together at one point to an unspecified location in the third world, where she was getting her degree in social work. So here I am, again, repeating and rediscovering Los Angeles through my personal tour.

And I come here, because I steal away from those geographical travelings, to some internal border crossings.

I might have reminisced last week to the educational systems and processes, because I started writing my thesis acknowledgments. It is to remind me of where I came from and to project where I am going with my writing. Last week, it was not so much to celebratorily claim that access to graduate school is simple, but rather to demystify the process a little. Applying to a program the day before, is a way to recognize that those who "made it" are just as haphazardly unconfident, confused, perplexed and inundated with the university. And to keep it real -- it is a place that could be full of twists and turns, but applying to a place that will support you is very important to your health as a student.

---

In my acknowledgments, I spanned from roots in high school mentors to college co-organizers to friends in my program to my current advisors. It felt good to thank them this early on, in writing.

This is how we do it... on a Tuesday night

[I began writing this last Tuesday... ]

My sister's in town. I've been "showing" her around. All the places of tourism that I perhaps would not necessarily label as the subversive version of Los Angeles. Yet, as a graduate student in finals, I found that I planned some okay places: Diddy Reese, In-N-Out, a consciousness raising art performance for the undergrad, the Venice canals/ Venice beach. I also trekked to those otherwise, not so fun, but somehow always visited places: the Chinese Mann's theater, Santa Monica Third Street Promenade, the Grove. And yet, places that could otherwise be digested as the Disneyland of Los Angeles, I tried to "historicize" with subversive comments... another post... another tour...

And so, why am I writing, right now? Because, as graduate student in finals, this is how we do it on a Tuesday night. I am writing for an assignment, stuck in my writing process. [enter self-reflexive moment].

It was the day the before the applications were due: I rushed to the post office and paid the extra "next-day" fed ex fee. [Skip a few.] When I got in, I didn't know what my project was, other than, a grand comment on women of color feminisms. [Skip a few]. Higher education really is out to get the P/W/Q of color, I believe. Intellectual paradigms constructed around colonization in the enlightenment period really did organize the university system! Thoughts, projects, theories then, were and are constantly terminated because of the origins of specific academic disciplines!

---

renovating, remodeling, (recolonizing)

while i did not grow up here in southern california, and i oftentimes make home out of its people of color spaces, ethnic towns, and resources, i struggle to know its history the way someone does who lived their past 10 years in echo park, pilipino town, or koreatown.

when i moved here, phantoms of possible displacement and gentrification were already mocking me. gray buildings with neon rice bowls stare back at me on wilshire and vermont. i can't know what existed before there.

starting my part time work, this is part of the process. we went to one building, out in "the field" and we came across a phantom. it was an already remodeled space. the story comes out that this was a place where management had paid former residents a sum of undisclosed money (seemingly a lot, but still researching how ill-legal) to move out, so they could renovate. whereas the original guess was 10-12 families we once knew there, now there were about 5 families.

we went to another street. and its starting to come alive. i've heard about echo park. and we've been talking about koreatown now. (wealthier) people who commute want to live closer to work, and so these places have become their prime new location and playground. oftentimes, then, the (poorer) communities who have been living there for 10 to 15 years are being pushed out with silly evictions, false charges or unfixed, soon to be unhabitable buildings that landlords hope to condemn, to rebuild.

today, on this one unnamed street, i saw it. one, two, three, four buildings being remodeled. i wonder what are the stories there. if its like other cases, other clients, at other community based organizations, then, i'm sure it wasn't pretty.

a fresh new gaze

this is my new blog, with the same lens, the same magic.

its about seeing the world from our eyes, seeing the world with a critical lens.

while initially, this seems like an upgrade from a xanga to a blogspot, its more than a page change - it is a continued, but fresh vision to look at this place we inhabit glocally. it is random chat in lowercases and missing punctuations, it is intentional analyses of what is going on, it is creative responses to our everyday, our day to day.

its time, its necessary, its now. let's record.