Bank Protest — 6 Revolts the Tea Party-Obsessed Corporate Media Overlooked
Some of the most undercovered stories of 2010 were actions taken by ordinary people standing up for a more just and equitable society.
by Rosa Aguilar, alternet
“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
-Martin Luther King Jr.
Some of the most undercovered stories of 2010 were actions taken by ordinary people standing up for a more just and equitable society. People are taking to the streets on a regular basis across the country, but unlike the corporate-sponsored Tea Party — whose spokespeople can’t answer basic questions about the deficit they claim to be so worried about — those who believe in health care, affordable housing, economic justice, education, a living wage, and a better life for all rarely, if ever, get the attention they deserve. Instead, the media, even the alternative media, spent the better part of last year obsessing over the Tea Party and manufactured personalities like Sarah Palin, while ignoring people like 85-year-old Julia Botello.
Last month, Botello was among 22 people arrested for blocking the doors of a Chase Bank branch in downtown Los Angeles. Over 200 people, many of them homeowners facing foreclosure and eviction, took part in the action organized by Home Defenders League and the Alliance of Californians for Community Empowerment.
According to the Alliance, these families have never participated in an event or protest before, but they have exhausted all other options. Imagine if over 200 Tea Partiers took part in a similar action. Imagine if an 85-year-old Tea Party member was photographed being led away by two cops, one holding each arm. Not only would this video footage be shown over and over again on the cable shows, Julia Botello would be bombarded with interview requests, but because she’s standing in solidarity with people who are losing their homes, she’s only been contacted by two other reporters.
“If we’re united, we’re a better force. We need to stand together,” she says. “I use my voice for the people. I know all of the councilmen and councilwomen in my area. I’m not afraid to speak and ask for better conditions for my community.”
Botello found her voice 10 years ago after falling and hurting her knee on a routine walk home. Her South Central Los Angeles neighborhood was usually dark because the street lights rarely worked. “We usually had only one light that worked, so I went to local council meetings and raised my voice. Why are our streets dark? We need light. My neighborhood hasn’t been dark since.” She’s been going strong ever since. If there’s an action focusing on an issue she cares about, she will do whatever it takes to be there, even if it means rescheduling an overdue eye surgery. “I still have time and I want to keep going.”
In addition to the Chase Bank action last month, several other grassroots actions failed to receive the attention they deserve. These actions, no matter how small, should not be discounted. Let’s hope these voices and demands become too loud to ignore in 2011.
Original article on six grassroots revolts - at alternet.org
Showing posts with label elders. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elders. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Hilarious! Or cruel?
Norman N. is an 81-year-old man whose son told him that to search for things on Google, you needed to type the search phrase into Twitter, Gizmodo reports.
Norman searches for everything from information on his rashes to soft-boiled grapes (I didn’t know there was such a thing), and perhaps my favorite is an old man’s version of Internet porn: “diane sawyer swimsuit pictures.”
I’m not sure whether or not this is real — old man Norman hasn’t given up since late April, and you’d have to assume that even our notoriously computer illiterate elders would give up after some stretch of getting nothing back.
Norman searches for everything from information on his rashes to soft-boiled grapes (I didn’t know there was such a thing), and perhaps my favorite is an old man’s version of Internet porn: “diane sawyer swimsuit pictures.”
I’m not sure whether or not this is real — old man Norman hasn’t given up since late April, and you’d have to assume that even our notoriously computer illiterate elders would give up after some stretch of getting nothing back.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Celebration for everybody takes combined effort: Elderly, homeless given reason to party.
Elderly, homeless given reason to party
They arrived at the little brown brick building on East 18th Avenue on Thursday in wheelchairs, on walkers, with crutches and canes. The youngest was 55. The oldest was 92.
It was holiday-party day at Senior Support Services. For the more than 250 people who came, it meant a free meal, a bit of socializing and a small hand-sewn bag filled with gifts, a toothbrush, a flashlight and a pack of gum.
This was a large group of genuinely happy people. For one day, at least, they would not have to stand in a soup line waiting to be fed. Instead, they were seated at tables. Volunteers waited on them, handed them presents.
When we were kids, we called them "old folks." Nearly half, I was told, had fought in the country's wars.
Nearly as many, I was told, are homeless.
You stand there, look at the faces and wonder if this is what we have become as a nation. If a 92-year-old man who worked and served in the military has no place to call his own, well, are there any guarantees for any of us?
When it was over, Molly Ream, the director of development, stood exhausted in her back office, watching over an elderly man named Cornell, who lay splayed in a chair, breathing oxygen while awaiting the paramedics.
"This was an amazing day," she said, gently rubbing Cornell's shoulder and reassuring him things would be OK.
She had been up since the night before because she was forced to prepare five hams and 18 chickens for the party when a promised donation of cooked turkeys fell through.
She was homeless in 2007 when her job disappeared. She landed this job two years ago. She loves it.
"I get to see the best of humanity every day," she said.
She sees it, she said, in the volunteers. The center is open every day from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., providing its clients three meals a day and a place to stay warm and socialize between the time the shelters close down and reopen.
"We assume a lot of things about the homeless," she said. "Some of it is correct. Most of it is wrong.
"I see them as survivors. Others see them as failures. To me, they are human testimony to sheer will, the ability to survive horrible circumstances."
Two hundred people a day on average come to the center. Many are new to it. In previous years, the number of newly homeless people who registered at the center averaged 50 per month. The average now is about 90.
"There is really no excuse for it in America," Ream said, "that older people in this country should have no one to care for them."
All that people at the center want and need, she explained, is love, a little kindness, a little care.
At 1 p.m., the center is shut down so the staff and volunteers can clean post-party. It is clear some clients have no idea what to do or where to go. So they mill about or sit on the grass outside and stare into the windows.
I ask Molly Ream, who sees this every day, if it ever gets to her. She double-takes before smiling broadly.
"Every night, I ask myself what they would do if we weren't here," she said. "I also tell myself I did what I could today. I have to let it go or I'll become bitter.
"I don't want that. I want to be kind."
By Bill Johnson
Denver Post Columnist
Denver Post Columnist
Posted: 12/17/2010 01:00:00 AM MST
It was either the most joyous event I have witnessed or the most outrageously sad.They arrived at the little brown brick building on East 18th Avenue on Thursday in wheelchairs, on walkers, with crutches and canes. The youngest was 55. The oldest was 92.
It was holiday-party day at Senior Support Services. For the more than 250 people who came, it meant a free meal, a bit of socializing and a small hand-sewn bag filled with gifts, a toothbrush, a flashlight and a pack of gum.
This was a large group of genuinely happy people. For one day, at least, they would not have to stand in a soup line waiting to be fed. Instead, they were seated at tables. Volunteers waited on them, handed them presents.
When we were kids, we called them "old folks." Nearly half, I was told, had fought in the country's wars.
Nearly as many, I was told, are homeless.
You stand there, look at the faces and wonder if this is what we have become as a nation. If a 92-year-old man who worked and served in the military has no place to call his own, well, are there any guarantees for any of us?
When it was over, Molly Ream, the director of development, stood exhausted in her back office, watching over an elderly man named Cornell, who lay splayed in a chair, breathing oxygen while awaiting the paramedics.
"This was an amazing day," she said, gently rubbing Cornell's shoulder and reassuring him things would be OK.
She had been up since the night before because she was forced to prepare five hams and 18 chickens for the party when a promised donation of cooked turkeys fell through.
She was homeless in 2007 when her job disappeared. She landed this job two years ago. She loves it.
"I get to see the best of humanity every day," she said.
She sees it, she said, in the volunteers. The center is open every day from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., providing its clients three meals a day and a place to stay warm and socialize between the time the shelters close down and reopen.
"We assume a lot of things about the homeless," she said. "Some of it is correct. Most of it is wrong.
"I see them as survivors. Others see them as failures. To me, they are human testimony to sheer will, the ability to survive horrible circumstances."
Two hundred people a day on average come to the center. Many are new to it. In previous years, the number of newly homeless people who registered at the center averaged 50 per month. The average now is about 90.
"There is really no excuse for it in America," Ream said, "that older people in this country should have no one to care for them."
All that people at the center want and need, she explained, is love, a little kindness, a little care.
At 1 p.m., the center is shut down so the staff and volunteers can clean post-party. It is clear some clients have no idea what to do or where to go. So they mill about or sit on the grass outside and stare into the windows.
I ask Molly Ream, who sees this every day, if it ever gets to her. She double-takes before smiling broadly.
"Every night, I ask myself what they would do if we weren't here," she said. "I also tell myself I did what I could today. I have to let it go or I'll become bitter.
"I don't want that. I want to be kind."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)