Category Archives: Personal

Kicks

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One of the first lessons I learned about life back when I was a wee little Random Hero was that you had to rock the right shoes. I have two distinct memories etched in my psyche about this. I was in the third grade and my mom bought me a new pair of shoes from pay less. They were a pair of Raider shoes. They had the team colors, logo and everything and I remember friends telling me, “Aww cool. Raider shoes.” Later on in junior high I learned that you got clowned on for having pay less shoes because it implied your ass was po’. I remember being in gym class in junior high and these two guys were making fun of people for their looks and/or clothes. I was sitting down next to them minding my own business and one of the guys starts eye balling me. He looks me up and down and thinks about making fun of me, but the guy next to him looks me up and down too and stops at my feet. He see’s that I have some Jason Kidd Nikes and says, “nah he’s cool.” As shallow and materialistic as it is, having the right kind of shoes makes or breaks a person sometimes. For some of us, sneakers are way more than just things we wear because we need to, it’s an extension of who we are and what we represent.

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Uncle ray

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My uncle ray was a true veterano, a varrio legend. He escaped the oppressive climate that mexican indians endured in New Mexico in the 1930’s, as a young boy literally clinging to my grandma’s back. My abuela was his older sis, and she has  many a tale involving him being a baby tied to her back as they worked the fields in Nueva Mexico, then the central valle, then around the LA area.

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A Prayer for Juarez Art Activism Starts this Week

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Not all art is about someone creating an object in passionate solitude, unveiling it at the trendiest gallery and selling it for (what would seem to most) an excessive price. Since 2001, I have been engaged in what I call art activism. Art activism is about pointing out something that is lacking in society in a more amplified way than just one painting or sculpture in a gallery. Perhaps in Picasso’s times his one painting of Guernica created that buzz, but in post modernism, we have to step up our game.

My current project began in the summer of 2009. It is called A Prayer for Juarez. If you feel that you have known and seen works on the murders in Juarez in excess—it has been due to a handful of artists who have vowed not let this art topic disappear until something is resolved for the people of Ciudad Juarez in Mexico. It’s not a Mexican-thing, it’s a humanitarian circumstance. When we come together to resist and witness an injustice, we create a dialogue within ourselves to begin to change the world hierarchy on what is valued. We do not have to accept matters, because they are not in our immediate sight. We are the guardians of all that lives on our planet and together have the power to stop any injustices. It begins with being informed.

During the month of March 2010, we will begin this dialogue through new works and voices in this art struggle against injustice. You are invited to attend these powerful exchanges of ideas through art, performance and testimony. Each week (here on LAeastside) look for our posts on A Prayer for Juarez. All events are free, except this Friday’s play (March 5) by Dr. Ana Nogales on human trafficking called “Don’t Call Me Baby”. All events take place in Josefina’s new theater space Casa 0101 in Boyle Heights, 2102 1st Street (corner of St. Louis), except “Don’t Call Me Baby” which is 1 block west at the smaller Casa 0101 Theater. Street parking is free (imagine that, in LA)! Continue reading →

ALARMA! Crimes Against Nature

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This morning I shuffled out of the house in my chànclas to bring in the morning newspaper and to bring a bite of breakfast to my favorite pet squirrel, Frank. As I bent to grab the paper, I happened to glance down on the sidewalk where I discovered a ghastly sight that filled me with disgust and horror…

WARNING! WARNING! The following images depict extreme carnage and gore of the: “ALARMA!” magazine kind. If any readers are prone to àsco and revulsion at such sights, STOP NOW! PLEASE DO NOT CLICK TO CONTINUE WITH THE REST OF THIS POST! You have been warned! proceed at your own risk…….ahi de ti!!………. Continue reading →

Calle Soto

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When I was growing up in the magical neighborhood of Boyle Heights, Soto street was an end, a line that defined the practical limits of my universe. A block or two more to the West and you’d be crossing the river into El Centro, and unless you were on the bus with a few dollars and a reason, you just didn’t need to head in that direction. Everything you wanted to do was happening East of Soto. But  if you traveled along it, Soto St was also a way to quickly get to another part of the Eastside, namely up to Brooklyn Ave and that mitote of tiendas. Or you could head south to Huntington Park for even better deals on cheap clothes. In either case, Soto connected you to where you wanted to waste your weekend.

Nowadays I’ve mostly strayed away from this defining street but I’m quite sure it still functions as a psychogeographic barrier for those in BH. I still travel its distance quite often, noting the changes, trying to remember spots I should make a point to check out. Sometimes I bring along a camera.

Cross over to see some pics of life on or near Soto!

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Tricks Are For Kids 101: Sharing Is Caring And Sometimes Punk

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When I started at RHS some years ago, I was surprised by the number of Punk kids. I expected a few Ramones heads but Mob 47 and Unholy Grave? It was a pleasant surprise. One morning I’m talking to a teacher in the R-building and this kid passes by and politely greets me. He’s wearing a Varukers t-shirt. I smile. This teacher makes a stupid crack about the kid. I didn’t laugh. The funny thing was I had the same t-shirt underneath my “work attire.” Why? Don’t you believe in One Struggle One Fight?
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Is Villaraigosa Creating a “Police State” in LA?

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On Saturday morning I had coffee with a Los Angeles city worker, who (among other of his colleagues), is disturbed at the direction city leadership is laying out the LA Game-‘o-Life board. This week Mayor Villaraigosa said regarding the economic crisis fueled job cuts, “I don’t do this because I want to, I do this because I must.” Within this “a man must do what a man must do” blanket statement are also choices. In a city of approximately 40,000 city workers, there are 10,000 police and between 5,000 & 6,000 in the fire department, making them 40% of the city workforce. LA city workers have been appraised that Villaraigosa wants to focus on public safety first, translated means that other services in the city will suffer, but not the police forces.

Across my desk this week were dialogues about student actions being planned regarding the cuts in education, the closing of more parks in the city, the dissolution of the city’s Cultural Affairs Department (I got somewhere around 50 email petitions, which helped overturned this plan—gracias artistas!), an alarming price increase menu on traffic tickets with added rules (drivers beware!), gentrification plans to mow down more eastside historic buildings, and Pearl Art Store selling everything at 75% off (looks like they are going down).

As the students have noted in their various cries for continued funding, this city spends more on prisons and those who can imprison us, than things that can uplift us as a humanity, such as community spaces, art and education. I cringe to think what sort of summer we are headed for in LA. More negative places to be pushed into, armed monitors of humans to catch you erring, climbing prices on everything, mom and pops closing all around us, polluted city drinking water, no jobs, gas that cost more than a blood transfusion and no light at the end of the tunnel. My free-thinking art friends say “let the whole thing crash, we have survived worse.” I am starting to picture myself teaching an impromptu class to eager students on the street corner where they have been locked out of their schools.

Go directly to jail. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.

2666, Not So Faraway

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I’ve been reading 2666 by Roberto Bolaño for many months now. I’m a slow reader but this book in particular has really been a challenge. The book is divided into three parts with different narratives that eventually come together. The second part of the book is a fictional retelling of the murders in Juarez, MX.

In case you’ve living under a rock somewhere, for the past 20 years or so young women in the border town of Juarez have been mysteriously murdered and raped by unknown assailants. Most of the murderers have never been caught nor has the cause of the murders been definitively determined, although there is much speculation as to the motives behind the killings.
Bolaño uses an alias for Ciudad Juarez in the book and I imagine many of the details are lifted verbatim from the city’s crime scene files. This second part of the book is description after description of murder scenes told in a clinical fashion. The narrative is so gruesome, so haunting,  it provoked thoughts of fear: what if these kind of murders begin to happen in Los Angeles? The idea troubled me so, I had to take a break from the book.

Awhile ago, I came across this news story and a sharp chill ran through me as I read it. The details are almost identical to passages in 2666. Juarez is not so faraway.

CALIFORNIA BRIEFING; WHITTIER; 3 men arrested in attack on woman
Robert J. Lopez. Los Angeles Times. Los Angeles, Calif.:Aug 5, 2009. p. A.8

Three El Monte men were arrested Tuesday after allegedly slashing a woman’s throat and dumping her on the side of a steep canyon in Whittier, authorities said.

The woman, a 20-year-old Bellflower resident, suffered a 4-inch slash across her throat and had cuts and bruises on her body, said Jason Zuhlke, spokesman for the Whittier Police Department.

The men — Vincent Mendoza, 21; Edward Meraz, 24; and Jose Ayala, 27 — were booked on charges of attempted murder and kidnapping, Zuhlke said.

He said the woman underwent surgery at County-USC Medical Center and was listed in critical condition.

The woman knew the three men and had planned to go to the beach with them Monday, Zuhlke said.

Instead, they got in their car, tied her up with rope, beat her, cut her throat and left her in Turnbull Canyon in Whittier, he said.

“They dumped her and took off,” Zuhlke said.

The woman, still bleeding, eventually climbed up the hill to the 6000 block of Altmark Avenue, he said.

Neighbors were awakened about 3:30 Tuesday morning by the woman’s screams. She gave police the suspects’ names and a description of their vehicle.

Zuhlke said the three men, still in the Whittier area, were pulled over by police a short time later.

Updates:
Three El Monte men face trial for Whittier attempted murder
3 plead not guilty in slashing of Bellflower woman

I have been unable to find any further information on this case.

To Love & Die in East L.A.

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I have been in artiste/producer-mode recently. I’m so excited about our 2nd Annual La Botanica de Amor luv-fest for Valentines Day!! Since this is just one of Leslie Saiz’ and my brilliant ideas, making its second return—we R so proud. Last year an exclamation point became “alive”—as El Random Hero proclaimed “I want to find love!” Pachuco 3000, Abel Salas and I devised a whole male date auction with prizes. It was fun, funny and fundraising for the arts—YAY–I luv it!! read more Last time we did it (La Botanica, that is) the custodian (caught up in the excitement) jumped on the auction block and was bought for a home repair visit (ahem). Pachuco says it’s because he has the gift of salesmanship—(everyone, rub his head for luck.). This year Random is behind the scenes, scoring some delicious dinners-4-dos prizes; Pachuco is lining up the prime bachelorhood (because he says, “They gotta be chulos!”); and I am firing up my tarot cards for some ‘tell-it-like-it-is’ live love advice. To Love & Die in ELA, curated by Leslie Gutierrez Saiz opens too—why?–because only the artists on the eastside can break-it-down about our crazy-love lives verbally & visually (refer to image above)—it’s a Bonnie & Clyde thang, don’t ya know? Cheyenne is baking cup cakes and (ladies!) muralist Raul Baltazar (one of the bachelors-to-be-auctioned) is getting mas chulo every minute. More poetry, more music, more sweet treats, more art, more limpias para el amor, more love advice, more chances to find your ‘otro”, mas de todo! February, 13, noon to 5pm @ SHG, 3802 Cesar Chavez Avenue, ELA AND grab lunch there with Comida y Cultura!

Trail of DREAMS

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On January 1, 2010, we embarked on a 1,500-mile walk from our home in Miami, FL, to Washington, D.C. We walk to share our stories, so that everyday Americans understand what it’s like for the millions of immigrants, especially young people, unable to fully participate in society. It’s time that our country come together to fix a failed system that keeps millions in the shadows, with no pathway to a better life.

Our journey will be long and full of hardship, but for us, we see no other option. We are putting our futures in jeopardy because our present is unbearable.

We are four students from Florida – Felipe Matos, Gaby Pacheco, Carlos Roa, and Juan Rodriguez – who were brought to the United States by our families when we were young. This is the only country we have known as home. We have the same hopes and dreams as other young people, and have worked hard to excel in school and contribute to our communities. But because of our immigration status, we’ve spent our childhoods in fear and hiding, unable to achieve our full potential. We walk in order to share our stories and to call on our leaders to fix the system that forces people like us into the shadows, stripping us of the opportunity to participate meaningfully in society.

In solidarity with my brothers and sisters making this trek for not just themselves, but for everyone else who can’t. The current immigration reform that needs to take place is the current reincarnation of the civil rights movement that has been going on longer than I have been on this earth. We continue the work that has been laid out before us from the streets of East L.A. to China. No matter what your race, gender or sex this is a fight that knows no borders. Â