My mother always told me to put myself in someone else’s place as a way to a better empathize or understand what that person is going through. And yet I cannot come close to imagining what Cameron Todd Willingham was going through in his last moments.

Two days before Christmas in 1991, a fire rushed through the Willingham home and killed all three of Cameron Willingham’s daughters. According to some eye witness accounts, after Willingham escaped the fire, he made attempts to go back and rescue his daughters. He was restrained with handcuffs to prevent his reentry for safety reasons.

On January 8, 1992, Willingham was charged with murder. He was offered a life sentence in exchange for a guilty plea. He turned it down proclaiming his innocence. Instead he took his chance with the jury trial believing it would be acquitted of a crime he did not commit.

During the trial, the prosecution produced a number of witnesses to testify against Willingham. The most important witnesses included arson investigators and a jailhouse snitch. The fire investigators testified that the fire was arson-based on what is now described as junk science. The jailhouse snitch said that Willingham confessed to him while in jail; he has since recanted his testimony twice.

Willingham’s defense team did not put together much of a case, calling only two witnesses, one being a babysitter who says she didn’t believe that Willingham committed the crime. The case was given to the jury who took less time than it takes to finish the first half of a NFL football game, 77 minutes, to review all the evidence and come back with a guilty verdict.

Willingham was executed by lethal injection in February 2004 at the age of 36. His final statement was “Yeah. The only statement I want to make is that I am an innocent man convicted of a crime that I did not commit. I’ve been persecuted for 12 years for something that I did not do. From God’s dust I came and to dust I will return, so the earth shall become my throne.”

Since his execution numerous experts have looked at the evidence and determined that the fire was just a fire and not arson. However, many involved in prosecuting Willingham refused to admit a mistake was made and it is possible, or more likely probable, that an innocent man was put to death. Prosecutor Jackson said in an interview that he believed Willingham was guilty of arson because he listened to heavy metal which meant he could be a devil worshiper. Governor Rick Perry has chosen to continue the cover-up by replacing members of the investigative board when it began looking into whether Willingham’s case was botched.

As the evidence mounts that innocent people have been, and are being, convicted and punished for crimes they did not commit, whether by fraud or bad evidence, governments continue to embrace an irrevocable method of punishment.

If I put myself in Willingham’s place in those last moments would I have heard another axiom that my mom used when I was younger? “If you didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about”.

However, there is determined community leadership in place that took the initiative to form a health action council. The council is part of the Midwest Immigrant Health Project and its goal is to address the health concerns of packinghouse and processing communities for the benefit of vulnerable immigrant workers and their families.

A few weeks ago the leadership of this effort tirelessly coordinated basic training around plant safety with the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA).

Due to increased worker injuries and inadequate safety measures this training was invaluable. In the long-run these trainings will counteract the advantage of corporations who are able to exploit labor, safety, and workers compensation regulations.

When a worker suffers a debilitating injury, the first human instinct is to help the worker and his family because they have sacrificed for something greater. But in the meatpacking industry the thinking is that workers are at the mercy of employers, injured or not. This company’s strength is far greater than the poor employee.

The training that was led by OSHA enforcement experts was fruitful because it taught workers the process and role they play in making their plants safe for employees.

It was quite interesting to listen to the questions employees were asking the presenters, such as how to file a complaint, how long the process takes after you file a complaint, and the consequences to the employer for an unsafe plant.

It’s the first step in many years. The hope is to have continued training, education, and progress for the benefit of all.

The band’s unique singer, Morrissey, had an even more profound effect on me. Morrissey had a way of putting into words how I felt at that age. He had the ability to make one feel as if his songs of love and loss were written just for you—a feeling I’ve heard echoed by many of my generation.

Even as my musical tastes evolved, Morrissey always held a special place in my heart as an early powerful influence. Therefore, I was shocked to learn that Morrissey has said very questionable things over the last decade in regards to immigration in England, race, and “English Identity.” Statements which sound like they could have come from Nick Griffin, the chairman of the ultra-fascist British National Party. In the United States they’re reminiscent of Lou Dobbs, Tom Tancredo, or Dan Stein (FAIR).

Accusations of racism, directed at Morrissey, began in the 1980’s with a comment he made stating “All reggae is vile.” In the 1990’s he wrote several songs with very ambiguous lyrics entitled, “Bengali in Platforms”, “Asian Rut”, “The National Front Disco”, and “We’ll Let You Know.” In “Bengali in Platforms”, Morrissey writes about an immigrant who, “Only wants to impress you…only wants to embrace your culture…oh shelve your Western plans and understand that life is hard enough when you belong here.” In “The National Front Disco,” Morrissey begins flirting with fascist imagery which is said to be a reaction to David Bowie’s preoccupation with Hitler and fascism. He writes about a boy “lost” to the National Front who wants to “settle the score” and contains the line “England for the English.”

In the song “We’ll Let You Know”, reportedly about soccer hooligans, Morrissey sings, “We sadly know that we are the last truly British people you’ll ever know.” The most disturbing imagery is found in the song “This is Not Your Country” where Morrissey plays with National Socialism and skinhead culture “Armored cars, corrugated scars, graffiti scrawls: “This is not your country.” The line “this is not your country” is alleged to have been taken from the infamous Skinhead film “Romper Stomper.” The scene the line is taken from depicts a skinhead savagely beating an Asian woman after exclaiming, “This is not your country!”

Morrissey has also draped himself in the Union Jack flag during one of his concerts (associated with the far right in England), performed in front of a backdrop of two female skinheads, and was featured in a 2007 New Music Express (NME) article where he proclaimed, “England is a memory now. The gates are flooded and anybody can have access to England and join in. Although I don’t have anything against people from other countries, the higher the influx into England the more the British identity disappears. So the price is enormous.”

Morrissey has firmly denied any accusations of racism. He said, “If I am racist then the Pope is female. Which he isn’t” and “If the National Front were to hate anyone, it would be me. I would be top of the list.” He has sued NME for the 2007 piece citing they misrepresented, distorted, and fabricated what he said and that, “Racism is beyond common sense and I believe it has no place in our society.” Morrissey has since donated £75,000 to keep an anti-racism festival alive. A festival which is run by the group, Love Music Hate Racism (formerly Rock Against Racism) which was formed as a response to Eric Clapton and David Bowie’s preoccupation with fascism in the 1970’s and 1980’s.

This has been a hard blog to write. See, it’s not just about a fallen hero or a middle-aged musician desperately seeking relevancy in his later years—it’s about growing up, seeing things differently, and holding our idols accountable.

Truth be told, even though the aforementioned is deplorable, I could not find a smoking gun in regards to Morrissey and he has never clearly explained himself. But what does it matter? At best, Morrissey seems like an idiot musician using fascist imagery to fetishize strength and power, stir up controversy, and sell records. At worst, he’s a deranged xenophobe hiding out in obscure lyrics and ambiguous press releases.

Either way, I have a right to know.

Thirty-five states have some form of the law mandating that doctors notify a legal guardian 48 hours in advance of the abortion, or that the parents give actual written consent.

Illinois is the latest to grapple with the legality of these laws. On November 4, the state’s medical board approved the Parental Notification Act. Just hours later a state judge granted a restraining order requested by the ACLU.

A Chicago physician and a Granite City women’s medical clinic had challenged the law with the ACLU’s help. They argued persuasively that the law is unconstitutional and would harm minors by preventing them from obtaining safe abortions or by forcing them to carry their pregnancies to term.

The American Medical Association (AMA) reports that some young women will go to extreme and unhealthy lengths to keep pregnancies secret, including running away, obtaining illegal abortions or self-inducing abortions.

Because each of the 35 states has it’s own version of a notification law, there is a mess of legislation for young women to decipher. The Supreme Court ought to ban these laws for interfering in a woman’s right to privacy, but they have consistently upheld parental notification and consent laws.

Most young women will look to their parents for guidance and emotional support in deciding whether or not to carry a pregnancy to term.

But the government cannot mandate healthy family dynamics and positive communication skills. And the young women who aren’t lucky enough to have a compassionate family need to be trusted to manage their own reproductive care in consultation with their doctors.

Promoters of consent and notification laws argue that young women can always file for a judicial bypass where a judge will consider allowing the minor to have an abortion without parental notification.

This might be a reasonable solution except that many women may not even know the option exists. And fewer still can afford to hire a lawyer.

Abortion is legal in America. These state laws are attempts to subvert Roe v. Wade. In the guise of protecting young women, they can actually make their lives more miserable and dangerous. It’s time to put a stop to these paternalistic laws.

We are en route to the Imagine2050 First Annual Anniversary Celebration, extremely excited to experience our first U.S. performance outside of Texas. This coming Thursday is the milestone marking night commemorating a successful launch year for Center for New Community’s visionary blog site. The party is free and we are sharing the stage with an eclectic mix of music acts. Festivities start a 8:30pm inside Chicago’s Underground Lounge. In case you’d like to attend, here’s the map.

We are honored to be a part of the evening and are respecting the opportunity by clearing out an entire week from our work schedules back home.

We are documenting this landmark occasion; the first of what we hope are many travels to share our music with the world. We invite you to tune in.

It’s been 33 years since South Africa’s Soweto riots stirred the world’s disgust with that country’s regime where legal segregation kept blacks “apart” and in “hoods” (thus, Apartheid) unequal to whites. District 9’s sci-fi concept celebrates—yes, that’s the word—Soweto’s legacy by ignoring the issues of self-determination (where a mass demonstration by African students on June 16, 1976, protested their refusal to learn the dominant culture’s Afrikaans language). District 9 also trivializes the bloody outcome where an estimated 500 students were killed, by ignoring that complex history and enjoying its chaos.

(this is where you stop reading if you don’t want me to spoil the plot twists for you).

The white man stands up against his own and protects the alien, but the aliens never stand up for themselves.  Despite being physically and technologically superior, the aliens are portrayed as primitive hyper-breeding drones who’ve lost their intellectual head. This is clearly where the film stops reconciling social commentary with entertainment, abandons credibility, and goes straight for box office gold.

The Black Nigerians in the movie are depicted as criminal and cannibalistic. The filmmakers really veer into deeply offensive territory here. As one of three groups invested in the outcome of the film’s conflict, the other two being the aliens and militarized MNU (a private agency in charge of District 9), the Nigerians are the least humanized of the three. Never once are they shown to display empathy or provided any character depth. It would be great if the filmmakers were trying to make a point about oppressed peoples being forced to prey upon each other, but the racist symbolism overshadows that theme.

Of course, a lot of movies display outrageous racial stereotypes, so I don’t want to judge it more harshly than say Transformers. But it’s tough to get over the fact that its makers obviously want to send us a deeper message, but don’t deliver. Transformers wasn’t trying to say anything, it was just plain dumb and offensive.

District 9 does however have brief moments of insight, like when one of the academic commentators who chime in throughout the film, says that the term prawns, the common name for the aliens, is clearly derogatory. This is the case  with the real word commonly used to describe undocumented immigrants in the U.S., alien. Or when one of Johannesburg’s residents says that he feels for the prawns, but it’s not like they are even from another country, they are from another planet. We hear this a lot in real life talk about foreigners – the factors that make them undeserving of our sympathy and aid. We feel for the people dying in refugee boats and border deserts, but they shouldn’t be trying to come here in the first place. Here is a video clip from the film’s website to illustrate:

The other redeeming qualities of the film were the breathtaking imagery and special effects. Visually, it’s a masterpiece. Despite all its intellectual shortcomings, the creators at least have a chance to make up for it in the inevitable sequel. Next time, they shouldn’t try so hard to provide something other than pure entertainment that preys shamelessly on our fears, a la Cloverfield.

I give it an A for entertainment (I for one was enthralled and suitably grossed out), but an F for historical sensitivity and complexity.

I don’t listen to jam bands. I have been known to attend a festival, or two, where jam bands played but my motive to go was never the music. You can imagine the height of my expectations as I walked into the back room of Schuba’s to catch that1guy. I listened to a few tracks from that1guy’s newest album, but could not make it through any of the songs. As the crowd of fans began to file in, I took a deep breath, found a spot on the wall and waited.

Mike Silverman is shorter than I expected. Or maybe the giant steel pipe he plays dwarfs him. When he unveiled “The Magic Pipe,” a homemade instrument made of steel plumbing and electrical wires, the crowd roared and my jaw dropped. I had to fight back laughter. I didn’t want his fans, or him, to think it was coming from a judgmental place. It was coming from a “Holy-god-this-is-insane-I-can’t-wait-to-hear-this-thing,” place.

that1guy is the epitome of what a one-man show should be. I wouldn’t have been shocked to see cymbals strapped to his knees. I was shocked; however, by the range of sound that one person could produce live onstage. I was on another planet. If there isn’t a genre called Space Jazz yet, there should be. Silverman’s talent as a jazz musician was never in question. His fingers were a fleshy blur as he slapped and plucked the two bass strings that run the length of the pipe, creating sounds that resemble everything from African drums to hardcore metal guitar riffs. While the music that1guy creates is entirely electronic, you can’t ignore the organic undertones that accompany the synthetic beats. Oh, and did I mention he plays a cowboy boot like a hand-drum? Well, he does.

The performance really hit its stride when Silverman pulled out a handsaw and strapped a weight belt equipped with wooden dowels to his waist. The room grew silent as the handsaw sang haunted melodies and began to enchant the crowd. The head bobbing stopped. The dancing slowed. We were snakes being charmed.

By the time the he reached his finale, I had grown tired of the wolf cries being echoed by the audience and the poorly executed card tricks. As he called Heatbox, the opening beat box act, to the stage and turned on his smoke machine, I knew I was about to be roped back in. The two bounced sounds and rhythms off one another in the spirit of free form jazz. It was polished enough to sound professional but dirty enough to excite.

I didn’t love it all. I paid little attention to the lyrics of his songs, and when I did, I found them to be bland. However, I don’t feel like the appeal of That 1 Guy is that he’s a phenomenal writer. He also seemed to have a case of butter-fingers, but he was able to roll with the flubs as they came. Not many people can hit a music trigger with their foot as they pluck a bass string and catch a falling microphone at the same time.

“If you’re writing a review on this tonight, please mention my cat-like reflexes.”

There was a national day of action to oppose Wells Fargo on Tuesday. In 22 cities across the country religious leaders, union workers, and citizens gathered to stand face to face with a huge bank, to let them know that their irresponsible actions will not go by unnoticed.

In Chicago we gathered outside the North Avenue location at noon. It was a wonderful array of people; diverse in age and ethnicity. Most everyone was smiling and exchanging knowledge, a sentiment of brotherly harmony suspended in the air. We marched in a circular pattern in front of the Wells Fargo building, which was generously fitted with picture windows, shouting “Wells Fargo, Shame On You”. After about 20 minutes, we stopped and gathered around a loud speaker to listen.

First, Carl Rosen from the United Electrical Workers Union (UE) spoke:

“There are 100 workers in the Quad cities who are about to become additional victims of the economic jobicide that’s being carried out by the likes of Wells Fargo right now. Last fall this country gave billions and billions of dollars to banks, with the argument that is what we needed to keep this economy going. That if they got that money, they could keep lending the money out, and keep small and medium sized businesses across this country going. Now Wells Fargo took 25 Billion Dollars, and everybody understood what they were supposed to do with it. And instead what are they doing? They are pulling lines of credit from company after company, including Quad City Die Casting, a sixty year-old family owned business. A high quality die casting plant. They just needed a little help to get through this recession… but instead, Wells Fargo thinks this is a good time to cut them off totally.”

Leah Fried, another UE Representative pointed out the financial impact on the community:

“There was an economic impact study done, and it shows 100 people loosing their jobs in the quad cities. 5.3 million per year in lost wages, and another 1.1 million dollars in tax revenue. That’s a whopping 6.4 million dollars per year, lost in that community. Another 69 people who stand to loose their jobs in retail, manufacturing, and other industries because those people aren’t working. This is devastating. And Wells Fargo needs to be accountable for what they’re doing.”

Elce Redmond of Jobs With Justice followed up, signaling the relationship between banks and home foreclosures,

“Wells Fargo got 25 billion dollars of taxpayers money, but yet they have disregard in terms of preserving jobs, and making communities economically stable. In the communities across this country, Wells Fargo is responsible for many of the defaults and foreclosures. This bank has billions of dollars in tax-payers money, yet families are loosing their homes, companies are losing their jobs, and communities are not being economically sustained. This is absolutely wrong. Wells Fargo go bailed out, the people got sold out.”

More photos from the event:

It is only fitting then for me to begin this chronicle by introducing you all to Jen, Phanie, and Nina, better known as Girl in a Coma- three Chicanas who match their passion for music with an inspiring work ethic most would do well to take note of upon deciding to enter the music business as a performing musician/band.

When I first met the girls I could only barely see the potential they possessed. In my own defense, I was young, in my late teens and more concerned with high-school than being inspired by the future hometown heroines. Still, from the first time we shared the stage, something about witnessing Nina, the then 14-year-old front-woman’s powerful vocal delivery over GIAC’s steady groovin’ rhythm section made a lasting first impression. It was a mere twinkle of what is becoming an undeniably beautiful exploding star of hope all too important for our community. They remain visible ever since; on handbills and venue marquees, in local magazines, on promo materials scattered at record parlors, etc. The headlines have continued to progress, depicting adventures with Morissey in Europe and fateful encounters with Joan Jett which led to a recording contract with her Blackheart\Records.

As peers, I have only had growing respect for them. Thankful to be closer than colleagues, my intuition led me to observe their nature. I notice their familial bond and a keen understanding of what it takes to create your own success (a do-it-yourself approach, die-hard promoting, and relentless efforts to tour). This is an apparent recipe for success, but only when coupled with an appreciation for all they have gained and a sincere humility do you begin to understand: THIS ISN’T BUSINESS. IT’S PASSION.

Asi es como hacemos en San Antonio. Con corazon.

And, it’s only just beginning still. To commemorate this next chapter, the musical cosmos channel through the girls a catapulting sophomore album, “Trio B.C.” The LP is available on vinyl, CD, and digitally, online, in record stores, at their gigs. It was officially released this past Tuesday. I have been enjoying it for nearly two months and will likely be listening to it throughout my lifetime whenever I get the urge to remember how it all started.

Presently, they are kicking off their first headlining US tour with support from Miss Derringer. 50+ dates in a matter of 60 days.  Spending recent months getting to know the girls very well and even more so in these last three weeks leading up to their greatest journey yet, I can tell you that they are oblivious to the understandably unfathomable bright future about to overtake them. Come to think of it, save their ever-expanding loyal fanbase, the general public is oblivious as well.

Soon, however, that will all change. If this last couple of weeks was any indication, with a sold out album release show/ tour kick-off we were fortunate to be a part of, video shoots, recent media blitz, and a few in-store appearances, you will all continue to hear about these lovely Latina ladies for years to come.

As an active member of Western Mass Copwatch, I seized the chance to go interview these conscious Hip Hop artists, asking them questions such as “How do you see your struggle relate to a longer struggle of race issues and politics in this country?”. Below you will hear G1 of Rebel Diaz’s story as well as a glimpse of his analysis of race and policing in the United States.  The two interviews that follow are with a long time activist and former member of the Young Lords, and a member of New York City copwatch. Both link police brutality with racism.

To see more interviews click

Stroller-striped red and white reflections
Flicker fabulous, half-formed melody
Of a movement, so
This is the sound
Of a hundred thousand feet
Beating pavement

They invoke unknown protections
In the four cardinal directions, with me, here
Standing almost still in the thick of it

I, neither truly onlooker, nor activist,
Nor cameraman, I pan
To the beautiful brown babies
Flapping red-blue flags
Still knowing—well at least here is to hoping—
That you can’t argue
With a child’s smile

That, yes, we are all still flesh
And cartilage deep down- we,
Who move from excrement
To relevant, from shelter-seekers
To keepers of our own morality
As we scutter up the rungs
Of self-realized realities, neither
Truly united nor divided
By these sticky hate-laced speeches
Leaving only a little to the wind,
And even less to the imagination, when

There’s so much left here to wonder at
So many ways to shape a question
With the answers lying somewhere
Between tolerance
And simple logic
A real beginning to realize the
Unmistakable connectedness
Of our futures, that

There’s no way around this
precipice, the present,
This cavity, into which
we now pour our energy
So as to survive

Like many around the world, I listened intently to the news reports of the Somali pirate attacks. I prayed for the safety of the persons on board, as well as a peaceful resolution to the conflict. Yet, in my listening to and reading accounts of what was occurring, I did not hear nor fully understand the reasons, the underlying “real” reasons for the ongoing piracy.

Reports from news agencies made it sound as if a group of Somali’s woke up on the morning in question and decided for the heck of it to hijack peaceful ships steaming along in Somali waters. Somehow the Somalis in question were not people with real issues, real concerns, but rather with the un-evenhanded assistance of the media and others, they were “criminals” seemingly beyond redemption, deserving of the harshest punishment possible. However, as my mother always said, “There are always two sides to every story.”

Evidently no one in mainstream media or government (foreign and domestic) bothered to tell the world that over the last two decades foreign vessels have been competing with poor Somali fishermen, whose lives and livelihood are dependent on the days catch. Clearly no one deemed it appropriate and responsible to inform the world that foreign corporations and governments have repeatedly dumped toxic waste on the shores of Somalia, the result of which are babies born with significant physical deformities. Really did anyone ever consider asking Somalis whether here or there, exactly what is going on and why? Who are the pirates really?

Defending ones life and land takes on many forms and occurs in many ways. And while I don’t condone the actions taken by some in Somalia, it’s not so hard to understand either if one has the whole story. But that’s just the point. The whole story is not being told in a way that allows us to make informed decisions. As a result, what has been reported only adds fuel to the anti-immigrant, racist, xenophobic bonfires around the world. Made to look and sound like bandits, Somalis now become targets of small-minded, ignorant and bigoted persons who gladly look for any opportunity to espouse hate and engage in acts of violence.

Yet who are the pirates really? Is it possible that maybe the real pirates are the foreign corporations and governments whose foul practices have only added to the tumultuous conditions in Somalia? People cannot eat if the water is poisoned; fish die and unfair competition over natural resources exist. Babies cannot and do not grow into healthy productive, law abiding, working adults if they are born with physical deformities and disabilities which make it impossible for them to obtain employment. Food cannot grow on land that has been damaged through natural and unnatural events. People cannot live in freedom and peace if unresolved conflicts continue and those governments which can provide meaningful and lasting help fail to do so.

Seems to me the pirates are closer to home than we’ve been led to believe.

“Que la paz es nuestra moneda universal y el himno que entonamos sea a la libertad. Que el ejército represente fe, amor y esperanza. Siendo emblema de la bandera; la voluntad de no herir y dañar”.

Si crees en lo misterioso e invisible, si crees más allá de lo natural, nada es imposible, que tus acciones y obras realicen el poder de imaginar.

Imagina, que el hombre desde que es hombre jamás ha matado por odio.
que no ha echo ningúna guerra, porque es un ser racional.
Que la corrupción y la violencia en ningún momento fueron
necesarias, porque desde su interior y en todos sus pensamientos no
existe la codicia, tampoco el egoísmo.

Que el hombre encontro la paz en su corazón, porque verdaderamente
busco la hermandad en su religión.
Que antes de buscar un paraíso en la eternidad, no destruye su
hábitat actual. porque busca de su prójimo y de las venidas
generaciones el bienestar, eso es su mayor felicidad.

Imagina, que el hombre no gobierna solo por el poder de sentirse un
rey, entiende que ser tirano y dictador, fuéron cuentos de terror.
Imagina, que todo esto fue producto de una cruxificción.

Imagine

“That peace is our universal currency and the hymn that we sing is
towards liberty. That the army represent faith, love and hope; being
the emblem of the flag; the willpower to not harm or damage”.

If you believe in the mysterious and invisible things, if believe
beyond what is natural, nothing is impossible. That your actions and
works carry out the power to imagine.

Imagine that man since being a man has never killed for hatred. That
he has not started any war because he is a rational being. Corruption
and the violence at no time were necessary because in his soul and in
all its thoughts no greed or selfishness existed.

Man found peace in his heart because he truly looked for the
brotherhood in his religion. That before seeking a paradise in the
eternity he has not destroyed his home because he seeks for his
neighbor and of future generations of wellbeing, that is a greater
happiness.

He imagines that man does not govern alone by the power to feel like a
king, he understands that to be a tyrant and dictator, were stories of terror.
He imagines that all this was product of a crucifixion.

Divagando taciturno entre penúmbras, una sombra difúsa da pequeño sóplo de vída a una antígua y mal trécha habitación, dónde; desde por los rincones y en cada esquína, escalofriante olor se percibe por el derráme inconciente e inevitable de delírios, sufrimientos y cansancio. La humedad ha traspasado los muros del orgullo y de la valentía, llegando a habitár en aquéllos ojos profundos de miradas fugáces y perdídas de aquel singular personaje. Que ha venído desde léjos, atraído por sus sueños de querer a su pobreza abandonar, más ahora en éste suelo extraño se da cuenta que bienvenído núnca fué.

Involuntariamente se va despojando de sus viejas costúmbres, aprendiendo debéres que por su machismo tanto evadío y siempre aborrecío, es así como entre tarde y noche llega su tormento, acompañado siempre por la iluminada imágen sutíl de una línda mujercita que le evocan en sus tareas miles de suspiros, pero inequivocamente le agradan sus remordimientos, sin opción debe continuar.

Con tanta espuma en el fregadero, agua en el piso, detergente mal gastado y como siempre fiel, va dejando incompleta esa vajilla que un dia un buen hombre le regalo, de su espalda reumática se ha empezado a quejar, por lo que ya no ve la basura metida debajo de sus tres únicos muebles que ha podido juntar, es asi como todo el polvo que a falta de una aspiradora ha empezado a ocultar en lugar que al azar escogio, sin embargo en aquella alfombra que un dia fue de color café, asemejandose va a un volcán o como a un tumor malígno que muy pronto le estallara. Súfre y llora al rebanar sus cebollas, las quemaduras son llágas en su piel como la mas clara evidencia de su inexperiencia en el arte culinario, las horas transcurren lentamente, ve toda una eternidad en la espera de esa carne de cerdo en salsa verde con calabacitas que ha podido preparar..y aunque le hizo falta mucho mayor sazón…a el no le importa, porque se felicita..y se autonombra “cheff internacional”

En sus noches..allá por la madrugada se agita en su mar de soledad, se hunde en la desesperación y se ahoga en una locura de ansiedad interminable, su cuerpo líbido reclama deseos, es cuando comienza el vaibén perturbador de su cobija, ese ritual que lo deja exháusto tirado en ese colchon viejo, despues de haberle dado rienda suelta a su libre imaginar, terminado en el recuerdo de su mejor noche de pasión.

Encarcelado a una monótona rutína, ya no hay mas nuévo que sus platicas de sueños frustados, también confundidos por el transtorno del insomnio, sin embargo con placer las hace del conocimiento a tanto bicho rastrero que ha llegado a vivir con él, después de sus historietas, llega su monólogo filosofál, y como si verdaderamente lo escucháran, se dirije a esa plaga nefasta de cucarachas que núnca pudo exterminar, por lo que les da tregua, es de ambos un pacto, siempre y cuando le ponga mucha atención, solo de esa manera. Les habla de los acontecimientos actuales, dándoles una opinión como siempre fuerte y lógica, porque las palabras le salen de su sentir, a flor de piel, desde su corazón. La voz inquebrantable que por un tiémpo fué, ahora solo es un éco de una lánguida inspiración, y aunque no pertenezca a la mesa de los caballeros, bien puede suplir a cualquier diplomático de su corrompída nación.

Más solo que nunca, porque del pensamiento de sus seres queridos va siendo olvidado, porque sus llamadas telefonicas no logran llenar ese gran vacio sentimental que les ha causado, en los ahogos ensimismados a tanto problema familiar su esposa va entiendiendo poco a poco que el ha dejado de ser la solución. Sus hijas van desechando de la memoria de cuando a la salida del colegio esperandolas él estaba ahi y ellas entonces corrian y le demostraban su cariño con el mas suve y tierno beso en su mejilla. y ya no extrañan ésas noches en que después de una cena colmada de frijoles y risas, entraba a sus recamaras a leerles un poema de reflexión, un cuento salido de su gran imaginación o simplemente cantarles alguna canción infantíl.

Aferrandose a su mundo mísero, silencioso espera un dia especial, porque de domingo a viernes lleva grabado en su memoria lo poco que una tarjeta despues de timarlo le permitio hablar, Añora a sus padres, el cree que aún sigue siendo esposo, y se dice asimismo que jamás dejara de ser padre; porque en realidad esas son sus únicas alegrias, y ha sido tambien el motivo verdadero de su migración, pero eso lo conserva en secreto ante el miedo de una inesperada deportación.

Del país de las oportunidades ha intentado escapar, porque ha buscado hasta ahora sin encontrar, sus álas de cartón y amarga realidad le impiden volar..estrellandose solo en cuatro paredes muy frias como un ataúd a sepultar que han sido sus únicos mudos testígos, de todos sus lamentos que le van carcomiendo el alma, y solo se resigna al tiempo, porque a la distancia la ve como su peor enemgio, Anhela el pronto y soñado regreso a casa, mas su gran necesidad se lo impíde y le grita que no es tiémpo aún. eso le cuasa un inmenso dolor, que nada logra disipar y en su agonía va calmando su tempestúosa soledad.

CHICAGO – Center for New Community was deeply saddened by the tragedy that took place in Binghamton, NY on Friday. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the victims, their families, and the community.

Early reports indicate that this was a senseless act of violence carried out by a lone individual with unknown motives. It is reported that the victims were a group of immigrants taking a citizenship exam at the American Civic Association, which provides services to immigrants and refugees seeking to become citizens and reunite with their families.

This is a tragedy for America and for the immigrant community. As an organization that works to defend the human and civil rights of all persons residing in the United States, Center for New Community urges everyone to resist using this incident for political purposes in the contentious immigration debate.

At this time, we encourage the nation to focus its full attention on supporting the community of Binghamton, New York.

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The Center for New Community is a national organization committed to building community, justice, and equality. The Center is grounded in many faith traditions, and builds community where the dignity and value of all humanity is manifest. Based in Chicago, the organization defends democracy, empowers communities, and promotes equality in its commitments to cultivate civic life and advance systemic change in partnership with local leaders, organizations, congregations, and other institutions.

Here is an excerpt of the article:

While in custody at Lower Buckeye Jail, Martinez said she was brutalized by six MCSO detention officers, who were trying to get her to put her fingerprints on a voluntrary removal order, a document wherein an undocumented foreign national gives his or her consent to be repatriated.

(Lydia Guzman asserted that sometimes MCSO will attempt to get a fingerprint instead of a signature for the VR form. An ICE spokesman had no immediate explanation for this procedure.)

Martinez refused, as was her right, but the officers tried to force her, she said. They stepped on her, twisted her arm, and beat her.

She was placed in a cell by herself, and later that night she was visited by eight MCSO officers, who warned her to sign the VR, or, “We’re all going to get you,” she said they told her.

Martinez’s right hand was swollen, and stained with blue ink.

A fellow inmate advised Martinez’s daughter that her mother had been beat down. She feared for her mother’s life, and advised her lawyers, who filed an emergency stay on Martinez’s behalf.

To read the entire article, go to http://blogs.phoenixnewtimes.com/bastard/2009/03/joe_arpaios_goons_break_womans.php.

Actuár con arrogáncia y ser indiferente,
ánte ún ser humano en condición diferente.
Palábras que ofénden y miradas que mátan,
en el mundo ódio y racismo se desatan.

Es, querer ensalzár tus imaginables grandezas,
con sólo idéas vánas, llenas de pobrezas.
No ver más allá de la razón,
simplemente al prójimo partirle Alma y Corazón.

The speaker then continued to scare me half to death with his sobering survival rates for non-profits that do not invest in technology. Inevitably I started to think about the survival rates for human beings who do not, or I should say, cannot invest in technology. If someone like me who has all the access and opportunity right at her fingertips feels like she is hanging on by her fingernails, what of the billions who have nothing?

Then the speaker said something that struck to the heart of the matter; “Technology isn’t difficult, people are.” I understood his context of course – people are resistant to change, but I couldn’t help interpreting it another way. People are difficult because we’re instinctual hoarders. We take our resources, what we deem necessary for survival, and make them inaccessible to our competitors. Or in the case of google, just cut our competitors out completely. I think all of us non-techies have looked at our IT consultants/computer geeks and wondered if they really wanted us to get it.

I was reminded of a conversation with my boss who has severe technophobia. We debated the fate of newspapers. He respected newspapers as a tradition and vehicle; I respected their evolution and eventual obsolescence. I argued that while I didn’t think that newspapers were going to disappear altogether, I did believe that access to information on the internet was so varied, so vast and so instantaneous, why would we bother mourning the death of the newspaper? What I should have conceded was that when the internet and the machines necessary to access it can be had for 75 cents per day or left in a diner booth, then we can truly put newspapers to rest.

Technology may be moving at lightning speed, but accessibility is not. Repressive governments, underdeveloped infrastructure and general disparity stand in the way. And while it is certainly important to protect freedom of expression and the internet from censorship, we should be equally committed to promoting the access necessary to express oneself in the digital age.

When I was researching the number of African Americans throughout history who have been elected to the US Senate I was shocked to learn that since 1870, there have only been five. Today there are about 23 million African Americans living in the United States but not one in the Senate. Before Barak Obama there was another senator from Illinois, Carol Moseley Braun, who was a senator from 1993-1999.

Before Mrs. Braun there was Edward Brooke who held a seat from 1967-1979. But before Mr. Brooke you have to go back a long, long way, all the way back to 1881 to find the last time an African American was part of the elite.

That gap of some 86 years is more than 3 times larger than the 2nd largest gap of an all white senate, 24 years between Edward Brooke and Mrs. Moseley Braun. Back in 1881 it was a former slave from Mississippi who held the seat, her name was Blanche Bruce. And before Blanche we have the first ever African American in the Senate, a man by the name of Hiram Rhodes Revels. In the 239 years since Mr. Revels took office only 4 other African Americans have followed in his footsteps, a truly astounding and deeply disturbing fact.

In 2009 we will inaugurate the first African American president but it is also a year where we could see an all white congress. Obama’s open seat has caused more than a stir with many factors going into the massive decision over who to replace him. The decision ultimately lies in the hands of the governor of Illinois, the disgraced Rod Blagojevich. In Illinois, even if the governor is behind bars he still can appoint a replacement senator. This week Mr. Blagojevich made his decision, choosing 71 year old African American Roland Burris. This appointment was rejected by Senate Democrats as well as Barak Obama. Both believe that any appointment by the governor who is facing an investigation on charges of selling the Senate seat is not legitimate.

The fact that Mr. Burris is an African American has nothing to do with the rejection of his appointment but it also is another PR disaster for the democrats. It could appear that the democrats are rejecting the appointment of an African American man to an all white Senate. I personally agree with Barak Obama who believes the people of Illinois should decide who their next senator is and I sincerely hope Illinois voters would choose an African American.

Of the 23 million African Americans living in the United States there are many good Senate candidates who if given the opportunity would make fine Senators. One example is Hank Johnson; an up and coming representative from Georgia who was elected to the House in 2007 and has made a great impression in his first 2 years in office. He was recently elected as a regional whip by the Democratic Caucus, a very rare occurrence for one so new to the House.

In the year 2050 whites will not be the majority in the United States. As the number of white Americans declines the number of minorities and women in the US congress especially the Senate must increase. Minorities and women have some representation in the House, but they need much more in the Senate. Each year the United States becomes more and more diverse, and government institutions must reflect that. I fully expect there to be some level of diversity in the Senate by the time we hit the year 2050 but that is too late. The problem exists and needs to be addressed today. The election of an African American to the most powerful leadership position internationally, President of the United States, is definitely cause for optimism but it is not enough.