Why I didn't die in Little Rock

I mean to prove I'm into movin' my own way and say that I've been gettin' along since long before you came into this play.

(Please excuse this entry. It's really just a note to myself to, eventually, write this.)

Nancy Ellmann Leonard, Counselor, MA, CSAC & the Tragic City Square

Nancy Ellmann Leonard

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Memo: Today, we're celebrating an arguably successful revolution

In case you haven't gotten the memo in recent years, what we're celebrating today is the 239th anniversary of a successful rebellion against an empire scale major world power. Today marks the day when all of the governors of the 13 British colonies on our Eastern coast signed the much vaunted, too little read and rarely understood Declaration of Independence from the legal, official government of Great Britain. Some of those governors signed more or less at gun-point; likely my ancestor, Rich Stockton, among them. I'm glad he did, though, because his signature provides me indisputable proof that dysgraphia runs in the family. 

Every day this summer, I've worked with some of the most impressive people I've ever met. The boss calls us the Charleroi crew. We call him Patrono and ourselves the PALM crew; Pan American Landscaping Mafia.... we're here to steal your dead wood and weeds... or maybe just hunt wild berries until such time as a palm should present itself in need of service. Represented are Mexico (twice), Guatemala and I was raised by wolves in the Twilight zone. We're looking to recruit one from Puerto Rico, one from Uruguay and one from Canada. Then we can secede from the current union and declare the independent contract consortium of Seven PALMS. 

When I was sitting in my office in Florida 20 years ago, surrounded by kids and chickens and endless loads of laundry, I spent a lot of my spare time reading about and corresponding with drug policy activists and journalists. All of us were studying with interest the puzzling question of how Occidental's oil got under the soil belonging to the people of Central and South America and the Mid-East. These guys were about 5 or 10 years old, just learning that you can grow and sell food and not go hungry. While I was just learning how to be a mommy, the Iran Contra Affair was in the news and the eldest of these kids was not much more than a twinkling in his daddy's eye.

They grew up in the midst of the successful Zapatista Revolution against the Mexican government. One of them told me about a friend publicly executed by burying in a concrete bridge piling. I pointed out that they do that in Jersey, too. These guys just get up every day, work like mules and enjoy it like it's play. I've worked along side American men for much of my life. I never had much trouble keeping up the pace til now. 

If you think these guys are stealing a job from somebody you just find Patrono an American, English speaking crew who he can count on like that. He'd take it in a heartbeat. Anybody? I didn't think so.

And what do these danmed ferners do with all that money? Don't tell anybody but.... they SPEND it! That's right! They own or rent houses, they date and sometimes engage and marry, they buy vehicles and tools.... they burn through work gloves and boots like paper towels and mow down on pounds of sandwiches, energy drinks and pepperoni rolls from the gas station. They have light bills and gas bills and vehicle repairs to pay for. They also pay taxes and SSI and UCI and Medicare and all the rest, just like everybody. To be blunt and just equally offensive as those who think these guys are somehow doing you out of something, it doesn't make one bit of difference where your mother was situated on the glorious day of your birth, we all contribute something--whatever we have and all we are--for good or ill, all of it just keeps on circulating in the economy and in society.

And these are the kind of people the Donald and his supporters want to run out of the country? I love these boys! These are the best kind of Americans, living the American dream and, btw, far more native physically, socially and spiritually than Castilian.

Sad to say that when they dropped me off after work last night, I had to remind them that, once again, the cops probably didn't get the memo on what it is we're celebrating today and to be very careful. I never once was stopped just for walking on the alley until I walked down that alley with a couple of "Them Mexicans" (Actually, a Tagalog and a very young half Puertarican who Nimo and I were sort of trying to keep out of trouble) late one Independence day evening. Now I watch Hoppy walk the alleyways every day, rockin some nice kicks bought and payed for many times over with fines I've payed behind that initial contact.

Donald Trump can pucker up and take a flyin' run at a rollin' donut! 

Police Union Calling for Hate Crimes Laws to Protect Their Persecuted Separate Culture.

Straight from the horses mouth, via the scenic route. Has there been any more clear statement by law enforcement that they now view themselves as a different and separate people from our own?

This is how they've felt for a long time now. 20 - 15 years ago or so, I used to go rounds with cops and copsuckers in alt.law-enforcement on Usenet. The topic was drug policy and it was ever dominated by stories about people like Amadou Diallo, Abner Louima, Patrick Murphy.

Back then, I sure hadn't heard of the term "copsucker". I just called them Law Enforcement Moonies or LE Moonies and made frequent, sometimes humorous (I hope, anyway) references and comparisons. I got all KINDS of rude and crude education from those exchanges. IRL, I had a self proclaimed officer of the law in NYC tell me that he had friends in my home county of Broward, Florida and that I might be hearing from them.

I sure did, too! Within about two months, I had every contract agency under the control of Broward Sheriffs' Office on my doorstep, starting with Code and Zoning demanding that my 30' tall canopy of trees be cut down to 6' stumps to comply with regulations defining a "hedge" and proceeding through roughly half a dozen other agencies.

People who didn't know me at all threatened my property, my liberty, my children, our beloved dog, all because I dared to disagree with a bunch of cops and copsuckers over what makes sense for the future of drug policy.

At the end of the exchange, several months later, I never had to attend one meeting or hearing. I did it all by written correspondence (with some missives Cc: John J.T. McNulty, esq.) I was not fined or charged with anything cause I wasn't breaking any rules (except the one about never, ever asking law enforcement to explain or question what they do). All claims were found to be unfounded, I had a good chuckle and two different officers in my neighborhood thanked me for pinning Bruce Hahn's ears back a little and almost getting him shit canned within 6 months of his arrival to incorporate several more services into the BSO fold. So it's all good ;)

All my life, I've heard the sound advice, find something you're good at, master it, stick with it. I'm pretty good at pissing people off. Only when we're real pissed do we speak our true minds and show our true colors.

Why I'm breaking w/ family tradition to vote fore Hillary

Ok, I'm gonna ramble now cuz.... just cuz.... mkhay?

The best thing to come out of broad publicity of the latest couple tragedies in and around St. Louis and Ohio and Utah has been an elevated dialog on the so far misnamed topic of racism. Oh, don't get it fucked up! This shit has been going on all along. The only news here is that people are getting fed up with this bullshit enough to put themselves at great personal risk by becoming journalists. If my language offends you, please excuse me on the basis that this is not only provisionally appropriate language to discuss the topic, it's also just exactly the topic for which strong language exists.

But it's not really racism.

rac·ism
ˈrāˌsizəm/Submit
noun
the belief that all members of each race possess characteristics or abilities specific to that race, especially so as to distinguish it as inferior or superior to another race or races.
prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race based on the belief that one's own race is superior. -- Google Racism

True racism would be misconceptions about dogs or horses or spiders. Spiders take the worst of it though, don't they?

All humans are the same race; we're human, ok? Please? I think it's helpful to think in terms of ethnicism instead of racism cause we all pretty much know by now that we're all of mixed ethnicity. We have more in common than not.

Regardless of the popular language, I've come across a LOT of conversation on the topic, and some of it is pretty damned good! Not all of it, of course. A lot of it, probably the vast majority, is banal and mean spirited and shallow, like everything else that passes for conversation these days. But some of it has been better than I'm used to--more thoughtful, more reasoned, more nuanced ... And it's SO refreshing!

But until just recently, I was looking forward to a Hillary presidency. The reason why has little to do with left/right politics and everything to do with this. I'm dog TIRED of pretending that everything is about racism[sic] and more than ready to start pretending that everything is about misogeny. Damn! It's a real thing and my spellchecker hasn't even got the word in its dictionary. It's a neglected topic.

I like men. Almost always, I'll hang with the guys if I have a choice. Maybe just cause my dad was cool as hell and my mom was really very not. So I'll just skip over a listing of daily and more indignities people without a dick suffer and cut right to the chase.

Here are some relationship tips:

Guys, if you stick your dick into something that even you don't respect, you degrade yourself. If you've done that and you've managed to connect with a good woman who's willing to overlook it? Get down on your damned knees and thank her endlessly! And don't even THINK about trying to shame her for whatever she may have done before you met her. You've met her kids, maybe even shook hands with an ex boyfriend. You knew she wasn't a virgin and she probably suspected that you were not either.

Whatever insulting thing you may want to say about women in general, remember that your mother was a woman and so is your little sister and so is your daughter. And we can hear you. We're not deaf, mother fuckers! If you can't remember that, I'll remind you. Ask my coworkers LOL!

Sometimes, when I'm walking or riding my bike down the street, I really do appreciate a cat call or a whistle. Really! Chicks dig that shit as much as ya'll do! But some days I'm just not in the mood for attention from strangers. Just pay attention to how a girl is acting--is she inviting playful flirtation or is she in a serious mood. Maybe she's on her way to a funeral or something. Ya know, just like when you go into work and gauge your boss' mood before you decide whether to be playful or serious? Ya know, show us a little respect, compassion, empathy... just pretend we're men with titts and pussies and alluringly gentle voices. And if you seriously hope I'm worthy enough to share some intense and extended intimacy maybe one day, remember that I am as worthy of respect and consideration as your little sister or your mother, ok?

I would compliment you guys a whole lot more often if you would play by the same rules you call on us and NOT take a playful compliment as a contract obliging me to jump in bed with you.

Clearly, I'm not talking about an exclusive, romantic relationship. I'm trying to make peace on the street. That's just about all I'm about. B'lieve it!

We got more in common than not.

B'lieve it! Or we shall all hang separately.

The real definition of mind f***k and why it matters to you

So I got to thinking about this story today as I was walking around Charleroi. I'll tell you why cause I think opening the dialog is more important right now than protecting my personal boundaries.

I'm having a zipetty-do-dah day today. Fellow program vets will understand what that means. It's a beautiful day here! Sun shining, cool breeze, birds a singing... but I've been reminded of a horrendous event from inside the building with major repercussions into the here and now. I don't want to trigger anybody else, so quit reading now if you're not up for processing some of the dark details.

It has to do with the public perceptions that kept us all imprisoned by sadistic lunatics back then and which continue to oppress so many today. I promise, at the end, there's some optimism. A truly encouraging development, that spoon-full of sugar. At least people are starting to notice and put it into entertaining and understandable terms. That's good. Baby steps.

These are two broadly held public perceptions that led to the horrible events of yesteryear and continue to wreak havoc on communities to this day.

1. Drugs are the root of all evil, especially where teenagers are concerned. ALL evil.
2. The Program® is the only answer to the only cause of any kind of problem.

Depressed much? Drugs. Trouble in school? Drugs. Hard time getting along with your parents? Drugs. Must be drugs. That's the only thing it could possibly be. Got a problem controlling your urge to rape little boys? Drugs. I shit you not, I saw it with my own glazed eyes. Some of you know what I mean. You were in group with me that day. For those of you lucky enough to have been sweating mid-term exams or suffering teen angst over boy/girl troubles or pimples & such, here's what happened on the way to the exit one day.

There was a young man in $tr8 Inc. He landed there because his dad had enough clout to pull some strings and get his darlin' lad's prison sentence deferred if he could finish the program. I don't remember what he was convicted of having done, just that it was a violent act and his sentence was something like 10 - 20.

To be perfectly fair, I'm pretty sure that the dad believed that drugs were at the root of his boy's problems. I don't think this man was evil enough to have been complicit to the fraud. I could be wrong, maybe that's just what I have to believe to live among humans. But that is my belief and I'm not interested in exploring other explanations right now. Mkhay?

Well this young man had progressed through the phases to the point where he had newcomers locked up in his home and was going to work every day. His home was known as the most "secure", inescapable, hard-core host homes. They had a couple of vicious dobies in the yard outside the bedroom window. No escape possible. And he was a BIG guy! Would have been attractive as hell if it hadn't been for the sadistic gleam in his eye. Even in a big room with a hundred or so other people, his presence was downright chilling. I wish I could say I can't imagine being locked up alone with this monster night after night, but one day I was forced to focus on just that scenario.

One of his newcomers was a very timid, small young man, maybe 14 years old and a late bloomer. Well one day while the oldcomer was at work, it came to light that he had been violently raping this little boy. This came to light when the young boy was stood up and confronted about why blood was seeping from his rectum onto his chair.

If sane people had been running the show, they would have taken him to the hospital for an exam and made a complaint to the police and sent the oldcomer back to prison where he belonged. If frogs had wings they wouldn't bump their asses when they hopped. When I say I was raised by wolves in the twilight zone, I'm really only half kidding!

Instead, the boy was taken to the bathroom and given a kotex to put in his drawers. When the oldcomer came in from work, he was confronted and started over, day one, in his "drug rehabilitation program." About 3 months later, staff and group having been convinced that he was sincerely working his program, he was again advanced to a higher phase and they started sending him home with more little boys. I shit you not. I couldn't make this up. Others witnessed it too and have posted publicly. The victim in this case told the story himself. I'm not going to name him cause I don't know if he feels like reliving this nightmare right now. Anyone who knows who I'm talking about, please respect that and don't bring it to his attention! Thank you.

All the while, during the entire years long ordeal and for many years afterward, we all were just stuck with keeping things like this to ourselves. After all, who's going to believe a teenaged runaway from a "drug rehab"? The cops? Yeah right! Our parents who paid to keep us there? Good luck with that! How about clergy? Teachers? CYS? Somebody? Keep on telling yourself that somebody's minding the shop and keeping the world safe from things like this if that's what helps you sleep at night.

Now all of the above happened over 30 years ago. I'm not whining. I'm pretty much over it, functioning well, enjoying good relationships and a reasonably comfortable, enjoyable life. So is the victim described in the paragraphs above, as far as I can tell. Matter of fact, when I have a bad day sometimes I think of him and find strength to take a brighter view of my own situation.

Some days, though, I find cause to reflect on these darker days. Today is one of those days for two reasons. And it may be hard for most people to see the relation between these two seemingly unrelated stories. Maybe some people will understand and explain it a little better than I can right now. But I'm going to try and explain anyway.

William Evans was paroled the other day. Please spare me the very real trauma of relating the details of why that is so disturbing to me. Please stop and read this article:

Nicole Parisien was murdered in B.C. in 2007 by former Calgary man Andrew Evans, who was recently granted day parole. Photo courtesy Helena Lines/Calgary Sun/QMI Agency

Full Story Here, please read!

Done? Ok, to proceed. Alberta Adolescent Recovery Center is a 3rd generation spin-off of The Seed, where my nightmare began. Seed->Straight, Inc.->Kids of Bergen County->AARC

Despite the heinous nature of the crime, this man was granted parole the other day, in part because Dean Vauss, the megalomaniac director of the AARC program where Evans was a counselor, spoke for him at the parole hearing. Evidently, Dean still believes that drugs are the root of Evan's problems and that he has the only solution to that problem! Ok, well he's obviously a lunatic; this having been obviated by countless witnesses to similar acts of megalomania, various lawsuits, etc.

But what the hell is wrong with the parole board??? Aren't they supposed to be the sane, responsible people who bar against this sort of nightmare scenario? I suppose it depends on who's doing the supposing. If you factor in those two broadly held, highly dangerous delusions that I enumerated earlier in this article, then it all makes horrifying sense, doesn't it. Do you have some sympathy for the good hearted people of Germany the day any of them came to the realization that they had thrown their heart-felt support to the monster that was the Nazi movement? I do. Often. More often than I'd like.

So I'm walking up the hill to a home health client's home today with a snout full of all of this. And, as I say, it's a blessedly beautiful day; what we call "tourist weather" in Florida, where we only get a couple of days a year like this. And I'm re-gearing my mind and mood to the people I'm about to go and serve; their concerns and immediate needs, their situation, their world-view and mind-set (I envy them that! Oh, they suffered more privation and hardship than most of us, but their world and future were kind and honest and optimistic!) So I'm having this rather private moment with myself, anonymously walking up a public street when I startled a young kid coming out of the alleyway on his rat bike. It's not like we almost crashed into each other or anything. There was plenty of lead time to notice one another.

I think he was startled because I was just radiating all kinds of rage and fear and upset. But what cut me right to the quick? The rapid progression of his expression. First, undefined anxiety. Next, compassion... very briefly, I saw a look of pure honest compassion when he realized I was closer to tears than aggression of any flavor. Then there was a different fear and a turning away. Maybe he rode off cause it was an uncomfortable moment and certainly none of his concern. But the thought troubled my mind that his initial startle response had something to do with fear of confrontation with white people, especially an older white woman in distress. I don't know.

Next thing I know, Dayton, Oh authorities reminded me of why hearing about what people like Dean Vause and his small band of sadistic lunatic followers are up to is so deeply disturbing to me. Because I know what it's like to be locked into life under the rule of such people and we are... really!

I just watched the video of John Crawford being shot to death by police in a Dayton area Wal-Mart. 

Here's the Huffington Post article with video on John Crawford

Sure looks to me like they didn't give him any warning and he wasn't even pretending to menace or threaten anybody. Not even checking out the scope. First moment he even shows awareness of police presence, he's on the floor screaming in fear and pain, forgot all about that BB gun he had been thinking about buying. That went skidding across the floor. He had more important things to deal with just all of a sudden.

Probably couldn't afford it anyway cause the baby needed diapers. When you're considering your own immediate mortality in a real way, the strangest things occur to your mind. Trust me on this.

Here's the kick in the head. This video was released at the same time as the special prosecutor announced that the cops involved will not be indicted by the grand jury. Their reasoning goes that these cops did just exactly what they were trained to do. So sorry about your orphaned baby, sorry you had to bury your son, etc. Just SOP. 

This is how I read that:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Memo:   9/25/20014

From: Staff

To: All 5th phasers, 4th phasers on down, selected PT's will get a personal message through COC.

Re: Recent and historic disposition of LEO involved homicides and other alleged civil rights violations

We have trained our staff to murder more or less random people for no more cause than unsubstantiated anonymous gossip. If they don't like you for whatever reason, and we do all of the reasoning for them, and they think they can get away with it, they'll shoot your ass without provocation or warning. We'll give them a paid vacation, a fund/sympathy raiser, commendations, promotions and a sweet retirement with legacy perfs. You won't even be around to SEE what we do to your granddaughter! LOL! 

Nothing to see here. Go back to your X-Box and your football game and your celebrity gossip now. Have a nice day & drive safe now, ya hear! They're here to protect your safety. So don't do anything that might frighten us. 

Move<fnord>along and don't resist.

Your protectors

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Now here is the optimism I promised earlier; an entertainingly brave & brilliant presentation about the broadly held delusion that is too often used to minimize and justify the brutalization and murder of innocent people. That fondly held delusion is this:

• Black people are the cause of drugs and all other evils of society.

Now, when I say this is a brave move, I don't mean just brave in the sense that these kids risked marginalization and scorn from people who may disagree with them. I was on the edge of my seat watching this video! Even I knew going in that the black kid was risking his very life just to deliver an important message! And I wasn't at all sure till the end that I wasn't going to witness yet another murder caused by hysterical paranoia fed on a steady diet of pervasive hate. Don't think for a minute that that kid didn't know it full well going in either. In my book, this kid is a damned hero!

Even if you're not black or latino. Even if you're currently a racist who holds to the delusional view that them others are causing all the problems and need to be locked up, driven out of our neighborhoods or killed outright, this matters to you. Cause if you're holding on to this comforting delusion, you're probably also holding onto another, even more dangerous delusion--that it will never happen to you or anyone you love `cause you're not [fill in the blank]. It shall. Trust me. If we don't turn this boat around, it'll happen to you one day, and likely sooner than you think!

Don't Be Muck!