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
Monday, July 21, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
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....
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....
Thursday, April 3, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
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 15th, 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
I hope the show goes well tomorrow. But more so, good luck to the WOW women in their new salon.
Monday, March 17, 2008
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.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
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!
---
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!
---
Saturday, March 1, 2008
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.
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.
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