Current

 
By David Denny
Vendor
 

We meet here often at this same old place
And the tears you cry wet my face
The pain I feel you’ll never grasp
You’re just a reflection an image on glass
You claim to reveal every fact
But image without substance is not exact
You are limited to what you can see
Stuck in a mirror and can never be free
So don’t you even try to hide
All your faults and failures inside
For all the things you hide I feel
The things a reflection can never reveal.

By Brandon Cooper
Editorial Intern

“Safe and supportive, dignified affordable housing.”

That’s what the newly renovated Gasner House provides according to Troy Swanda, So Others Might Eat (SOME)’s director of housing development.

Located on the 2800 block of Texas Avenue SE, the house is now home to 49 extremely poor single adults.  It is one of eight houses that are part of the organization’s Affordable Housing Capital Campaign.

More than 80 people came to a dedication and opening ceremony in early April that included a speech from Mayor Vincent Gray, a ribbon cutting and a tour of the renovated building.

SOME bought the building in 2007 and, after the recession caused a delay in financing, began renovating it last year.  The building now has 49 single efficiency rooms, as well as a community room and laundry facilities.  Residents will be able to participate in recreational activities as well as SOME’s on-site case management services.

The Affordable Housing Capital Campaign, launched in 2005, aims to place 1,000 new housing units in the District.  At the time of the dedication, Father John Adams announced that SOME had so far opened 545 units.  Although SOME has not met the campaign’s goal yet, the organization’s already helped many people find their footing and restore their lives. The organization is scheduled to open another building, the Griffin House, on June 6.

“They fed me, they clothed me,” said Tony Williams, a new tenant of the Gasner House who spoke at the ceremony about how SOME has impacted his life.
“They offered me help, taught me about being spiritual. It’s not about going to church. It’s about a relationship with God.  ”

The building is named after Allen Gasner, a former board member of SOME who passed away in 2002.

“Gasner House will not only serve as a symbol of Allen’s legacy, but also the continued generosity of Beverly (Gasner’s wife) and her family, which is going to restore hope and dignity that come to us in need and those who will be housed in this building,” Adams said.

Before the ribbon cutting ceremony and tour, Mayor Vincent Gray spoke on the need for affordable housing in the city and the role housing plays in rehabilitating a life.

“Frankly there is no more destabilizing feeling in the life of a person than to have no stable place to live,” Gray said.  “If you can get people a stable place to live you can work with the other issues.  Until people have a place to live, it is almost impossible to solve the other problems.”

The outside of the Gasner House, So Others Might Eat's newest housing units. SOME dedicated the building on April 11.

By Dele Rejah
Vendor

We must perform a kind of artistic autopsy—a scary prospect, no doubt, to those offended by the idea of hip-hop’s mortality. Logic dictates that hip-hop was figuratively drugged, raped, and murdered, having worked as a hapless prostitute in one’s speaker set.

I harbor no illusions that the reader is ignorant of my bias towards the conservationist’s view. However, would it be polemical to ask whether Gucci Mane meets the criteria of a dope emcee for the period when hip-hop was alive? Do any of Nelly or Soulja Boy’s records reflect the lyrical standards, gravity, craft, or veneration set by Rakim, Kool G. Rap, Nas, and the army of adroit rappers? Must we expect only excellence in the artistic culture of which I am a part? Is it wrong to label poor artistic work as such, even if financial success attributes a pseudo-splendor to what is essentially cleverly marketed rubbish that soils hip-hop?

The impostors that produce this kind of highly marketable rap do so freely only because the sentinels of hip-hop are not at their post. Absent are the integrity, independence, and unique artistic Darwinism that weeded out undesirables in the Ascetic Age. Hip-hop used to reflect the lives of real people. It was a “kinship of the dispossessed,” as W.E.B. Du Bois once wrote of Black America. Nowadays the hip-hop fan is alienated from good art, and barraged with flashy aesthetics to deceiving him into consummating with D-grade rap.

Somehow the monastic, hard, dark, and organic tone that once reflected across the 1990s was lost along with hip-hop’s variegated artistic styles. Currently, synthetic hip-hop reigns king. These artists would inevitably be subject to insults if they were to perform a cappella on a street corner in America’s ‘hoods with no corporate money to back them up. Gone is the era of hardcore beats and grassroots-driven feedback acting as lyrical law.

To be sure, I realize that the corporate globalization of hip-hop is just a sliver of a movement that would put a Starbucks in Lima, Peru. And certainly, hip-hop’s unprecedented level of prosperity from the pop music dollar-tree gave many of African-Americans the means to become power players in the music industry.

By 2004, the so-called “Bling Era” of hip-hop had arrived. House parties, “forties,” and blunts were ousted; in their stead stood champagne, nightclubs and expensive cigars. Hip-hop had grown up to engage a widespread global fan-base. In America, however, the music became predictable. Hip-hop lost its edge. It was Fonzie without his cool.

It’s no fun to be a citizen of a faded empire. Peter Pan may be rich when he grows up, but he certainly won’t be fresh and adventurous. I am reminded of an old hip-hop axiom: “Rap was secondary; money was necessary.” This has been true for the entire history of hip-hop, but these days that gap is growing. Hip-hop has gone the way of the iconic Bob Marley image. As with posters and postcards of Marley, rap was stripped to the very substance of its soul, then defanged of its grit.

It’s as if record executives have said: “Let’s make as many people as we can love hip-hop by controlling her in our prostitution racket. We will fool the artists into submission by shelving work that does not fit the criteria of the principle by which we work. We want anyone with some money to be a part of hip-hop… at all costs.”

So many new emcees today are simply beggars with microphones, panhandling in rhyme to abate their hunger pangs. It’s evidenced in their every rhyme. The pure and chaste hip-hop was richer in artistic virtue than she could ever be as a harlot. A sea of worthless emcees and producers make it clear that hip-hop is nothing more than a barking dog with no teeth.

The Golden Era-loving hip-hop head finds himself in the agony and despair of starvation. I accept the reality as it is, but I invite the reader to consider what has changed in hip-hop. Are the artists trying to be inventive, intricate, or even creative despite the commercial risks? Or are they simply hustling fans in corroboration with corporate interests? Is the art an end in itself? Or is it a means to financial success? To be fair, in the artist’s shoes, I would likely make the same Faustian deal. But I am not the artist and I expect more.

So, let the champagne pop. I wonder if a day will come when people find that hip-hop, unadulterated and pure, is a grassroots, revolutionary art form created by diaspora Africans from the streets, among “wonderful facts you might not know.” It happened with rock and roll, didn’t it?

By John Matthews
Vendor

Awakening, bones aching
from sleeping on marble
A loving good morning kiss to her
Throw on my shoes, roll up our blankets
A few quick good mornings to my fellow unhoused
Then off to Mickey D’s for a cup of joe

That life-giving brew which awakens my mind
A large cup, a refill, and maybe another
Then race to my corner before the old lady
Gets there to panhandle, respect must be given
Before it can be expected
Plop down my bags, and start to sell

A dollar here, two dollars there
The cash flow begins to add
I get a laugh from the suits who
Check their wallets and smirk
I pity their souls, and laugh at their fear
All right! Someone gave me a five!

This goes on for an hour or three
As packets grow so does hunger
Got enough for breakfast, maybe lunch
And a pack of smokes to last the day
As morning slips into afternoon, the rush dies down
Time to go to lunch

By Abbey Woodfin
Editorial Intern

Stepping briskly, Elinor Hart, a volunteer for the local chapter of the League of Women Voters moved around the meeting of the Coalition of Housing and Homeless Organizations (COHHO), gathering up the paperwork offered her by homeless advocates and outreach workers.

Then Hart headed off to the city board of elections and ethics with the papers she had collected: over 100  voter registration forms, completed by poor and homeless  D.C. residents.

Homeless people  are entitled to vote. But they may face barriers to making their voices heard. Since they live transient lives, their names may be purged from registration rolls. They may lack identification  documents.  Then there is the fact that they have no home address.

In the 1984 case known as Pitts v. Black, a federal court in New York explicitly found that homeless persons could not be denied the right to vote just because they did not live in a traditional residence. Subsequent cases from around the country have come to similar conclusions, the National Coalition for the Homeless points out in a manual for homeless voter registration.

But when a person does not even have a place to sleep at night, political involvement may be eclipsed by other concerns.

Nechama Masliansky, a senior advocacy organization at the nonprofit  So Others Might Eat (SOME,) and co-convener for COHHO understands the challenges. But she sees it as important for the poor and homeless to vote..
“Voting is the building block of power,” she said.

To build strength and show the poor and homeless clients at SOME and elsewhere in the city that their votes matter, she decided to work for wider voter registration. .

“If we can come to the City Council and say that we have registered 1000 people to vote in a city of 600,000 people, half of who are children, it should have an impact,” she said.

With a little urging from Maslianky,  her own and other  nonprofits got to work registering their clients.  At SOME , 165 voter registration forms were filled out. At another program, Miriam’s Kitchen, 50 forms were completed. The People for Fairness Coalition, an organization of homeless people, registered  80 voters at Adam’s Shelter alone.

Sometimes potential homeless voters  were confused about  how to fill out the forms or what address to use,  said Masliansky.
Help was there for them, through the voter registration efforts.

“We didn’t take the pen, we didn’t do it for them,” said Masliansky. “But what goes in line one, what goes in line two, why are there two addresses in two lines on the forms? We tried to address these questions in person,” said Masliansky.

Some of the homeless people who were registering listed the addresses of the  programs they attended, such as  Miriam’s Kitchen and Adam’s Place Shelter which is allowed under the law.

Then Hart, from the League of Women Voters, a nonpartisan organization seeking to educate citizens and encourage them to be informed and active participants in governmental issues came to the COHHO meeting, collected the latest batch of forms and delivered them directly to the board of elections and ethics to be sure they did not get lost or mislaid. .

The way Amanda Formica, a case manager at Miriam’s Kitchen sees it voting can be an antidote to disenfranchisement that sometimes goes with homelessness.

“Civic participation is a way to get outside of yourself. Advocacy and voting can be a way to have people get involved with something bigger than themselves.”

Robert M. Day,  who stays at Adam’s Shelter used that address for his registration form. He proudly showed off his new voter registration card.

“Filling out a form gives you a card, which gives you the vote, which gives you a voice in the city,” he said.

Miriam’s Kitchen helped people register, and explained why voting is so important and how their vote was a piece of empowerment for their voice to be heard, said Michael Fischer Jr., directory of advocacy.

Sylvia Randolph, 38, is a frequent visitor at Miriam’s Kitchen,said she voted for the first time in the 2008 presidential election. Before President Obama, she thought voting didn’t matter.

“I felt like with Obama, my voice and opinion were heard,” she said.

Like Sylvia, Street Sense vendor, L. Morrow, has been registered to vote for decades. He believes voting makes a difference. He said that by not voting you cannot make a difference, but the difference is made when you do vote.

Morrow remembers helping his grandfather vote for the first time. His grandfather couldn’t read or write. He helped him fill out the papers, so his grandfather could vote for the first time. “That’s why I cherish voting, because of my grandpa.”

By Abbey Woodfin
Editorial Intern

Eric Sheptock was passionate and spirited as he told of the events that unfolded surrounding the closing of the Franklin School Shelter in 2008. Sheptock, a homeless advocate, stood among the protesters when the city planned to shut down the Franklin School Shelter in 2006 and again in 2008. Sheptock’s voice was booming as he talked about what happened to the former school-turned-shelter.

He lived at the Franklin School Shelters before it was finally closed in the fall of 2008 by former D.C. Mayor  Adrian Fenty. The men who were living at the school were then relocated to other shelters or permanent housing.

In the weeks leading up to the closing, the 300 beds were dismantled a few at a time. Sheptock said that on the night of Sept. 26, he and the rest of the 50 men who remained at the shelter were awakened and their beds were then dismantled. Then the windows were shuttered; the doors were locked; the Franklin School Shelter had been shut down.

“Fenty shut down the Franklin Shelter, the only downtown homeless refuge. He also had to back away from his ambitious Housing First program — which promised to put the homeless in permanent housing — because of a budget crunch,” Sheptock said in an interview with the DC Examiner.

The school, located on the corner of 13 and K streets NW, is where Alexander Graham Bell sent his first wireless call in 1880 using the photophone, but like many old buildings, there were many safety concerns. The roof was caving in, and officials said that the school was unfit to live in and needed to be shut down.

Due to historic preservation requirements and needed repairs, the redevelopment of the property is expected to cost  between $20 million and $30 million. Franklin School is located at the heart of the city’s business district and is considered prime real estate. But it is also public property and some suggest it should be used for a community purpose, such as a shelter or a library. Last  November, an Occupy McPherson subgroup broke into the school and attempted to occupy it to bring attention to the issue. Police arrested the D.C. Occupiers as they were trying to take over the school.

One developer’s plan to refurbish the building as a boutique hotel fell through several years ago. But bidding was recently reopened to developers. Jose Sousa a spokesman for the city Office of the Deputy Mayor of Planning and Economic Development, said that there are currently no plans to turn the school back into a shelter. He told Street Sense that since bidding was reopened, no offers have been made.

By Chris Shaw, “The Cowboy Poet”
Vendor

This coming Thursday thousands want rockin’ red
To me that red is  dead, I care not.
Last Thursday, the ides of the Ides of April
(The Fifth- Opening Day Nats Park to the
Uninitiate);
-Now That was Hot! Even my Ben’s chili dog
paled in comparison. And, Nats Red
is a crimson that is brimmin’
with so much promise.
No Doubting Thomases on Op’ning Day.
Who cared if it were DeRosey or
Lombardozie. Beradina the Flying Dutch
Brought us luck, Ankiel, Werth, Zim too,
Dished it out til Cincinnati went batty.
You hockey fans can wait another year,
For solid victory, ’tis the baseball NATS!
They’re Here!!

By Ivory Wilson
Vendor

Chicago’s biggest Irish gangster, Fitz O’Patrick, is going to trial on weapons and murder charges in four weeks. He has been out on bond since his arrest. Nina, the detective who arrested him, was warned by Captain Newton to stay away from O’Patrick.

It’s Sunday night. From a dark, smoke-filled room upstairs from Lee’s Pool Hall a call is made to the home of the mayor of Chicago. Mayor Richard answers the phone. A strong voice says, “You need to remember, Mayor, that elections are coming up soon and the usual donations will be made to your campaign.

Mayor Richard replies, “Now, look. O’Patrick has to do a little time. No more than five years, but time, just the same.”

The voice angrily responds, “No time.”

“Look,” says the mayor, “it won’t look good if I call the DA’s office in the middle of the night and tell him to drop all the charges against O’Patrick.”

The voice laughs and says, “Let’s say these photos I’m looking at, pictures of you and this beautiful underage little girl in a hotel room, just happen to show up in the hands of the press…”

Mayor Richard knows he is beaten. “Okay. Okay. But this is the last time,” he tells the voice. All the voice does is laugh and hang up.

Mayor Richard rubs his head and racks his brain over why he’d been so stupid and had taken that girl to his room. The thought of taking his pistol from his desk drawer and ending the misery crosses his mind. He knows that if those photographs get out he’ll be finished as mayor and his family will be ruined. He picks up the phone and calls the DA at home. When DA Winston answers the mayor gets right to the point. “Mr. Winston, I need to know what charges your office has on Fitz O’Patrick.”

“Well,” the DA replies, “right now we only have him on a weapons charge, but we’re close to making a sweet deal with one of his crew who is going to rat him out on murder.”

“Here’s what I think,” says the mayor. “You need to drop these discussions of a deal and drop all the charges against O’Patrick.” DA Winston starts to object but the mayor abruptly hangs up. Stunned over what he has just heard, the DA realizes he’s just been ordered to let a murdering gangster walk.

On Monday morning, a young lawyer wearing a suit that cannot have cost less than $5,000 walks into the DA’s office with a weapons permit for O’Patrick. “As you know,” the lawyer informs the DA, “Mr. O’Patrick is a business owner who is allowed to carry a gun and this is a legal permit that allows my client to carry a weapon at all times.”

As soon as the lawyer leaves his office, the DA picks up his phone and calls Captain Newton. “Winston here,” he says, when he is connected to the captain. “I got some news for you.”

Newton laughs and says, “I hope I’m going to be happy after this call.”

The DA suggests that Newton sit down and tells him, “O’Patrick won’t be going to trial on weapons charges or murder charges or anything else.”

“What!?!” Newton yells into the phone, jumping out of his chair, “you can’t be serious!”

The DA pauses and replies that “this whole matter is now over my head.”

“Are you telling me the mayor told you to drop the charges?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Come on, Winston. You know as well as I do that the mayor is up to his neck with these gangsters. He hangs out in the same places they do and they’ve got his number.”

“I know, but I’ve got to let O’Patrick go. Sorry I haven’t made your day.”

When they hang up, Newton’s first thought is: how is he going to tell this to Nina.

Nina has the day off and is hanging out at her grandparents’ place, listening to Steely Dan CDs and practicing her judo moves. Her phone rings and when she answers, a woman’s voice says, “Hey, Nina. It’s Pir Brown.” Brown is a kick-ass detective in Detroit who is known for tossing bad guys through plate glass windows and off of rooftops to get confessions. She and Nina were in the same police training class in Chicago and became good friends.

Nina says, “Yo, girl. You still putting bad guys in the hospital?”

“Of course,” replies Pir. “I wanted to call and congratulate you on taking down O’Patrick and his gang. You’re a hit in all the newspapers here in Detroit. By the way, how are your grandparents, Steve and Ann? Is Ann still baking those amazing chocolate chip cookies and leaving some out for you with a glass of milk when you’re out late?”

Nina smiles and says, “Girl, you know she’s still doing that.”

“Well, I’ve got to find time to come and visit. I’ll join you in devouring some cookies.”

“Anytime, girl, and thanks for the call,” says Nina, and she returns to her judo and Steely Dan.

(TO BE CONTINUED…)

 
By Jeffery McNeil
Vendor

I’m approaching middle age. Most of my relatives are senior citizens, ready for retirement.

But a few bad decisions could ruin everything for them.

Because of the age and deterioration of their mental and physical capacity due to age, seniors become prime targets for con artists. Many scams go under the radar and never get publicity, many go unreported due to embarrassment. According to the Investor Protection Trust ‘s Elder Investor Fraud Survey, one out of every five citizens over the age of 65 has been a victim of financial fraud.

According to the Pew Research Center, seniors are better off than younger people. In 2009 the typical household headed by the older adult had $170,494 in net worth, compared with just $3,662 for the typical household headed by the younger adult. Folks usually accumulate wealth as they age, so it makes sense that there would be large gaps in wealth based on age.
But this concentration of wealth paints a large target on seniors.

Many elders fall prey to clever marketing tactics used by TV personalities who advertise to invest in gold, art dealing and too good to be true scams. While these con artists use mass media, seniors are also sometimes betrayed by those they know best, people who portray themselves as friends or helpful relatives.

They persuade seniors by asking for a credit card number or bank statement. The more ambitious types persuade seniors into signing over power of attorney.

The aging process makes people more susceptible to fraud. Studies have shown that mental capabilities peak at 53. According to the Alzheimers Foundation, over 5 million Americans have some form of the disease.

Education and awareness can help protect against fraud. If something is too good to be true, chances are it isn’t. Before making an important financial choice, do your own research. Talk with a trusted financial advisor, and do some reading.

Before you sign something, read it. If it is confusing and complicated, chances are whoever wrote it doesn’t want you to understand. A simple test is to ask if you can can come back after you have someone review it. If whoever is trying to sell you on the deal pressures you, head for the door. If it is a good investment today it will be good tomorrow.

So can an unexplained change in lifestyle or mood. If a typically outgoing relative has become isolated or withdrawn, it could be out of pride or fear that he or she is in trouble. Use your instincts to probe your elderly relative about what is wrong.

If your relative decides to give you financial power of attorney, review his or her financial statements on a regular basis, and look for any suspicious activity on their accounts. Unusual signatures and flurries of unexpected financial transactions could be red flags.

Your elder may want to donate money or use his or her savings to invest. But do some research to see if the charity or investment opportunity is reputable. Get the information in writing, review the fine print and see if it is legitimate. You should always ask for written information from the organization or charity. Reputable businesses or organizations know that it is proper protocol to ask for written information. If you are unfamiliar with companies, you can contact your local Consumer Protection Agency, Better Business Bureau, or State Attorney General’s Office.

My last piece of advice is know your legal rights. Before you invest or make a transaction, you should educate yourself about consumer rights.

For victims, the chance of recovering stolen money can be slim. It is plausible that there will be no arrest for the perpetrator. So be wary and be vigilant on behalf of yourself and the seniors in your life. There are con artists out there, planning their next scam.

 
By Meagan Ramsay
Editorial Intern

Street Sense vendor Pieus Ennels said his life began to fall apart in 1987. That was the year his mother died. After his father died two years later, he was convinced the world had turned against him. And he turned against the world as well.

“It was a downfall from there. I began drinking and drugging,” he said. “It led me to be homeless.”

He spent years adrift, with nothing to distract him from his troubles and addictions. But four years ago, Ennels began selling newspapers for Street Sense. He said that was a turning point for him. He was able to quit abusing drugs and alcohol, he said, because he was occupied by his work.

Selling papers has not only helped Ennels in his struggle with addiction, it has changed his state of mind.

“I’m almost back in the working class,” Ennels said. “I’ve gotten back into the working class mind, and I appreciate what Street Sense has done.”

In spite of his optimism, health issues have prevented Ennels from a complete return to the workforce. He had surgery for cancer on his left lung four days before Christmas and has since struggled physically.

And, still without a permanent home, Ennels continues to sleep in homeless shelters. Occasionally he stays with a nephew, but he does not like burdening his family. He hopes connections with his customers in Columbia Heights or Connecticut Avenue will lead to an available room or apartment.

Yet generosity from customers has continued to buoy Ennels’s hopefulness. His best memory of selling Street Sense was last Christmas when he received a card and $50 from someone on the street.

“A lot of people turn their nose up. I try to explain that homelessness could happen to anyone. That gift really picked up my spirits,” he said.

Always smiling and looking on the bright side, Ennels hopes to return to good health as he approaches his 58th birthday in April, and he is slowly getting back into church after venturing away for a while.

But nothing in Ennels’ future puts a smile on his face quite like the potential for romance.

“A nice middle-aged lady that needs a middle-aged man,” Ennels said when asked what he is most looking forward to. “I try to be as enjoyable as I can, but I need someone to have enjoyment with.”

As a four-year veteran vendor of Street Sense, Ennels has had his share of experiences on the street. Because of his embattled past, Ennels’s favorite part of selling newspapers is that it keeps his mind busy with positive ideas, instead of the “strange thoughts” that used to haunt him.

“I’m not trying to have those strange thoughts anymore.”