Recently while Walking on Division St. in San Francisco with laundry and groceries by a tent city, I was approached by a young black female news reporter from one of the local mainstream news station affiliates. She was accompanied by another gentleman of African descent and a camera man of Asian descent.
She excitedly asked me as if she heard good news that I should also be excited about “Are you moving?"
To which I replied, am I moving?
Targeted, unhoused, on the run, doing things I call underground economic strategies, to survive the Intentional poverty, present and historical trauma rampant in Amerikkklan. This is the other narrative about stolen, Po’Lice murdered sister-mama-daughter Jessica Nelson-Williams, cornered and murdered by the paid agents of the state (PoLice) in the Bayview on May 19th 2016 . The terrifying but very true aspect of her murder is that everyday of her life she was under surveillance.
BlackArthur Violent Displacement: East Oakland is dismantled by displacement, one family, one elder at a time
“I know they never had any intention of us being here in their plans,” said Master Frohm as my Sun Tiburcio and so many young boys and girls call him who attend the beautiful school he founded that is Frohms Martial Arts Academy on BlackArthur at Seminary in East Oakland. Frohms Academy was just served an exhorbitant rent increase by the new owners of their building and are being forced to leave their neighborhood of 16 years.
Sweeping UnHoused San franciscans like we were trash
On the last Friday in Black Herstory Month and fresh from the scab of the million dollar corporate sports giveaway that was the stupid bowl the City launched a wholesale attack on unhoused San Franciscans still remaining on Division street, most of them, Black Unhoused San Franciscans, whose homes were stolen by privatized lies of public housing theft, useless section 8 certificate giveaways and greedy landlords.
“Paha Sapa, The heart of everything that is” at least that is what my people, the Lakota Sioux Nation, say about our homeland. The dark black rolling hills filled with the smell of pure oxygen thanks to the pine trees, sticky with sweet smelling sap made by my peoples as a syrup source, small clear creeks filled with minnows.