Magdaleno

DEAR SISTERS AND BROTHERS

 

The holidays are here (I guess) and because of this I am getting some wonderful calls, emails and cards recognizing this time of the year. The funniest card this year, so far, is from Dr. Michael Radelet, and his family. Mike as many of you know is an988888yu7u78 international expert on the death penalty.  The card has Mike dressed as his version of the blessed virgin with his hands together in prayer. And he looks as if he is with child..Mike is neither blessed nor is he a virgin..And I hope that he is not pregnant… But he is VERY funny

 

From Oregon I received some wonderful photos of the Social Justice Fund’s annual dinner in Seattle. These photos included Ramon Ramirez, Maru Villapando, Larry Kleinman, and Cornel West and other friends. It is always nice to get hard copies of photos. The one who sent me the photos was Larry of PCUN who is always opening his kind side.

 

Ever since the reporter threw his shoes at George Bush, I have begun receiving shoes via the mail, UPS and Federal Express. Most sent are men’s shoes but some have been women’s stiletto heels… Are these shoe senders trying TO TELL ME SOMETHING?

 

Some of the shoes are gift wrapped so I am tempted to open them immediately…

 

For all of those who feel compelled to send me shoes please consider the following:

     1. send both shoes

     2. prefer good tennis walking shoes

     3. send men’s size 13 D

 

I will be waiting for more packages in the days ahead..

 

NOW FOR MY VIEW OF THE NEWS

a.     do you love me

b.     inauguration apt for rent

c.     plastic surgery

d.     NCADP

e.     Social Justice Fund

 

DO YOU LOVE ME??????

   

 A Mexican-American (Chicano) Holiday Story, Las Animas, Colorado, 1969

The Avila Family: Father – Marcos Trinidad Avila, Mother – Carmen Montez Avila. Both were immigrants to America; all 12 of their children were born in Las Animas (the souls). 
The author is the first male and sixth child of the Avila Clan. The story is about a brother named Mano, who gave his permission so that this story could be told.

 

First, some history:

 

Growing up poor in a large family is not always easy. The birthdays and holidays like Christmas are difficult times for children, especially when they are expecting gifts that never seem to materialize.  We never received the kinds of gifts that we heard other children received. Still, we did get plenty of love, refried beans, home made tortillas, rice and tamales, not to mention the tasty hot green or red chili.  For a poor family of fourteen, all of these things did add up to a lot.

 

Christmas was an especially hard time, since our parents often could give us only some much needed clothes and a stocking filled with hard candy, nuts, and perhaps an orange or an apple. Getting the fruit was special given that fresh fruit was so expensive.  Once in a great while you did get a toy – not toys, just one – uno – one single toy and whenever it happened, it made you very happy.

 

On many occasions, we would wait until the schools let out for the holidays and then we would get the Christmas tree from the Memorial Elementary. The second-hand trees from school were often too tall for our house, and we had to shorten them to make them fit our home.  On the bright side, there was always a little tinsel left on them and this was good, because tinsel was expensive.  We would later decorate the tree with our old set of lights, always with a few broken or worn-out bulbs; those that worked glowed and pushed wonderful colored bubbles all night long. We would add our own humble decorations made of paper, popcorn and cranberries, tied together on strings.  Later that night, we would turn off all the lights and cherish our little piece of heaven.  To simply sit and enjoy looking at the lights and listening to Christmas carols on the radio was a great and valuable treasure.

 

As a young child, I always wondered why Santa didn’t deliver gifts to us the way he did the well-to-do Anglo kids.  I thought maybe he was afraid to come into the Barrio, or maybe he just didn’t like Mexicans and poor people.  My friend Wesos (bones properly spelled huesos), a poor white kid, never seemed to get much more than us, so I thought that maybe Santa just forgot about all of us poor folks.  At least we had the homemade tortillas and tamales, which Wesos treasured as much as we did. Maybe, I reasoned, the problem with Wesos is that he hung around with Mexicans, instead of his own kind, and that was why Santa didn’t give him much.

 

As a child, I did have one problem with Christmas: when you went back to grade school after the holidays, the class would have to participate in a show and tell.  Students were expected to talk about how they spent their Christmas and then show off some of their toys.  One year, when it came to be my turn, I had nothing to offer.  That had been a difficult year and my parents were not able to buy us much for Christmas. As a child, I didn’t know how to explain to my classmates all of the wonderful things we received that weren’t new toys: things like the love in our home and the wonderful singing at the Christmas Mass that year.  I didn’t know how to express all of these things and, as it had been a Christmas without many store-bought gifts, I did what any self-respecting kid would do – I lied.

 

Yep, I told a big fat lie. Fatter than most I had ever told. I got up in front of that class, put out my chest and described toys that were only dreams in my head and nothing my parents could afford. Then came the challenge. “Leonard,” – that was what they called me then, because they couldn’t pronounce Magdaleno – “Leonard, next week you bring in your gifts so that we can all see,” implored the teacher. “But, but…” I protested.  “No buts about it, just bring them to class and share with everyone.”  Defeated, I whispered back, “Okay.”

 

Now, what was a boy to do? For me, it was already bad enough just being poor, but by now I had lied and would soon lose mega-face with the rest of the class. I decided that I would bring in some of the toys I had mentioned, no matter what I had to do, and made a plan for where I would get them. The stores were pretty loose with their security in those days and I managed to steal some of the toys; others I took from the yards of more affluent children. Kids being kids, they left their toys in their yards. I snatched some of those toys up after dark and, later, returned most of them once I had participated in the show and tell.  I still blame the teacher and the school for my lying and then stealing that year. 

 

Later, during my senior year in high school, my mother took ill with her last pregnancy, the 12th child being Miguel.  In those days, my mother was a LPN, a licensed practical nurse, but this last pregnancy left her unable to work for many months.  My father, being a farm worker, had little or no chance of finding work that winter.  As a result, we became heavily dependent on the Welfare Department and their food commodities that year and were one of the poorest families in our town.

 

One December evening, close to Christmas, I heard strange noises outside, in our front yard, that sure didn’t sound like Santa and his trusted reindeer.  Some of us looked out through the living room window while others opened the wooden front door to see what was going on.  There, standing outside our door, were about 20 well meaning, well-intended, well-to-do white youth, many being members of my senior class, accompanied by a few adult sponsors.  They were singing Christmas Carols, carrying with them baskets of food including a turkey and a variety of canned goods needed for a holiday dinner.  We didn’t have much food in the house at that time and Christmas dinner was going to be sparse.  Almost anyone would have welcomed this gesture; however, that was the first and last time those white folks ever came to our house. 

 

 

“Mom, I want those people out of our yard.  I am going to tell them to leave; I am going to throw their food in their faces,” I told my mother.  “We may be poor, but we don’t need food from gringos!” I was angry that they would push our poverty in our faces, and was ashamed about being poor.  How dare they come to our house and humiliate us; at the time I was very angry. 

 

“No,” she answered, “you are not going to do that.”  “Mom,” I countered, “I know that we are poor, but we are not that poor!  We don’t need their food and we surely don’t need them and their singing.  Let me get rid of them.”  My mother stopped me in my tracks, saying, “No.  You will do nothing.  Your sisters and brothers need this food.  We are going to accept it and thank them and ask that God bless them.”  “Please, Mom!” I pleaded, “I will never be able to go back to school and face them!  I refuse to go back to high school and see them – they will make fun of me.  I don’t want their food!” My mother prevailed; she, my father and my siblings all went out to thank them and to accept the food without me. Later, once the Caroler’s were gone, my family went through the wonderful assortment of food that was provided in the boxes. I protested with a boycott and stuck to the beans and rice that year, I was so angry and embarrassed.

 

When I went back to High School in January, I did not know how to behave around the students who had come to our yard that Christmas with their songs and baskets of food.  I finally did realize that they did the right thing and that it made my family happy.  Still, I never thanked them and they never mentioned it. Maybe some day, perhaps at a class reunion, I will let them know that the food and the gesture were appreciated.

 

Now, for our Story:

 

Having gone through so many hard holidays, I decided that when I had money, I would buy for each of my family members a good Christmas gift, something to make that day more special. I was finally given the opportunity to do just that in 1969, when I was about 23 years old.  I had a good job working for Colorado Rural Legal Services and saved up my money so that I could take gifts for my parents and the 6 siblings still at home.  I wasn’t home much in those days since I was out trying to save the poor, and out having some pretty exciting adventures being a radical Chicano.

 

The Christmas dinner had been planned for the 25^th at about three in the afternoon.  My family told me they were excited about my pending arrival, because I had not been home for about three months.

 

That afternoon, I was late driving the 240 miles from Boulder to Las Animas.  When I finally got there, it was almost 4pm; I was on Chicano Time in a BIG WAY.  Getting out of my speedy blue 1968 GTO, I gathered the up the gifts under my arms and placed a special envelope in my coat pocket for my brother.

 

Manuel, or Mano as he now likes to be called, was going to get a very special gift from me that year.  He must of have been about 18 and was very independent.  I had chosen a holiday card with a $50 bill in it just for him, his own special gift; I knew that he could use the money and that new crisp $50 bill looked just beautiful. I was sure he would smile and thank me profusely. I barged into the room as the twins swirled around me taking me in their wake around the center of the living room, the other kids cried, “Leonard! Leonard!”  My parents smiled and I saw this great bounty of Mexican food waiting on the table, just waiting for us to sit down and eat it. They were happy to see me and I was happy to be home. I hugged my mom, shook hands with my dad and, after giving him a macho half hug, I began handing out the gifts.  First, I doled out packages to each of my sisters and brothers, and then to my parents.  The last on my list was my brother Mano. He was then leader of the pack, being the oldest of the children still at home.  He just stood there, looking at me in all of my intrusion; this was his territory and I was the visitor…everyone was watching me as I made a big pronouncement with all the flair that I could muster. 

 

“And last but not least, I have a special gift for my brother;” this I did in my best public announcers voice, and then handed him the envelope.  I stood there expecting him to open it and then whoop it up and celebrate.  Mano slowly opened the envelope, looked inside, closed it and then handed it back to me; his dark face became most serious.  We were all stunned!  “What? But this is my gift… my Christmas gift to you,” I blurted out, handing it back.  He tried to give it back to me again, but I stepped away, retreating my arms.  It was then that he suddenly threw the envelope with the money in it on the floor.  “What, you don’t want it?” I was stunned.  “No,” Mano deadpanned. I picked up the card with the $50 bill inside as everyone anxiously watched this drama unfold.  Knowing that both of us had bad tempers and both were very stubborn only added to the element of suspense for our onlookers.  “Listen, it’s Christmas – and this is my Christmas gift,” I coaxed; “Well, I don’t want it,” he persevered.

 

“Oh, yeah? Well, nobody refuses my Christmas gifts!” suddenly I was like a Mafioso, bullying him into acceptance. “It’s Christmas and you are going to take my gift and enjoy it – like it or not!”

 

“I don’t want it,” he repeated, with just as much force.  I tried to put it in his pocket and he pushed me away with both hands.  It was then that things got out of control; before I knew it I had thrown him to the floor, jumping on his chest and grabbing him by the front of his shirt.  Soon, my hands were on his throat.  I had lost complete control of myself in his stern refusal to my generosity and, as a result, had lost my cool.

 

I was pretty strong then and outweighed my brother by about 50 lbs.  Everyone was screaming; my mom and dad were yelling at me in Spanish and English for me to stop.  “Stay out of this!” I shouted out amid the confusion of the moment, “Mano is taking my gift or I will hurt this Mexican!”  By then I had a tight grip on his neck and was pounding his head against the wooden floor, shouting to him that he had to take my gift, my Christmas gift.  My mom had taken up her Mickey Mantle stance and was beating me with the broom.  Once I am angry, I don’t feel much pain; I go into a blind rage, or did in those days.  My brother finally eked out through his constricted throat, “I can’t take your gift.”

 

“Why? Why?” I shouted into his red and swollen face. 
He was already crying by this time.  “Because I don’t know if you love me,” he answered sadly.  “What!” I exclaimed.

 

He continued, “I can’t take anything from you unless I know you love me.”  There I was, on top of his chest with my hands squeezing his neck and, in a confused state, I began expressing my love to my younger brother.  Of course, on the inside I was still bit homophobic at the time, and I thought that must have looked and sounded strange, at the same time it sure felt good to express my feelings for my brother.  I tried a thousand words and ways to say “I love you,” but I think my eyes said it all for me and by then salty tears were running down both of my cheeks. Finally my brother gasped, “Okay, okay! I now know you love me.  So quit choking me and get off my chest!”

 

I got up, helping him to his feet.  We were both crying by then. I gave him the longest of hugs and there were again smiles in the room.  He then broke the embrace, picked up the envelope, took out the money and put it in his wallet.  He looked up at me with gratitude and love, having finally accepted my gift.  Then he asked, “Do you have any more?”

 

All we could do was laugh.

 

 

FRIEND WILLING TO RENT SPACE FOR THE INAUGARATION..

 

Do you know anyone who would like to rent an apartment just 4 blocks from the White House. Due to the location you can avoid traffic and other hassles. If you know any one with the BIG BUCKS let them know or this opportunity… Since this is a private party they prefer that people go through me… and I will connect them.

 

PLASTIC SURGERY IS ALSO HURTING

The economic down turn has affected everyone including those participating in the so-called art of plastic surgery. Now either the prices for these procedures will go down or we will begin seeing folks as they really are. The Botox bubble has burst …

 

Years into the future when they have to dig up bodies for further investigations they will find these plastic bags, and metal\plastic parts that we have had inserted into our bodies there amongst our bones. They will find titanium where my knees used to be.

 

NCADP CONFERENCE..JAN.  22-25

              Harrisburg, Pennsylvania

I hope that you will be able to attend this great conference of the National Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty and share with so many great activists. And of course I will be there with you… so please go to the web page to get the details www.ncadp.org.

.

 

SOCIAL JUSTICE FUND NORTHWEST

        Give what you can

 

Just a reminder that you can help us by giving what you can as an end of the year donation and help to support the activist in the northwest.

www.socialjusticefund.org

 

HOLIDAY WISHES    

 

I want to send my very best to all those with-in my circle of friends. And at the same time I ask even those out side my circle to join me and others as we seek peace and economic justice for all.

 

My best

leno

DEAR SISTERS AND BROTHERS

 

The holidays are here (I guess) and because of this I am getting some wonderful calls, emails and cards recognizing this time of the year. The funniest card this year, so far, is from Dr. Michael Radelet, and his family. Mike as many of you know is an988888yu7u78 international expert on the death penalty.  The card has Mike dressed as his version of the blessed virgin with his hands together in prayer. And he looks as if he is with child..Mike is neither blessed nor is he a virgin..And I hope that he is not pregnant… But he is VERY funny

 

From Oregon I received some wonderful photos of the Social Justice Fund’s annual dinner in Seattle. These photos included Ramon Ramirez, Maru Villapando, Larry Kleinman, and Cornel West and other friends. It is always nice to get hard copies of photos. The one who sent me the photos was Larry of PCUN who is always opening his kind side.

 

Ever since the reporter threw his shoes at George Bush, I have begun receiving shoes via the mail, UPS and Federal Express. Most sent are men’s shoes but some have been women’s stiletto heels… Are these shoe senders trying TO TELL ME SOMETHING?

 

Some of the shoes are gift wrapped so I am tempted to open them immediately…

 

For all of those who feel compelled to send me shoes please consider the following:

     1. send both shoes

     2. prefer good tennis walking shoes

     3. send men’s size 13 D

 

I will be waiting for more packages in the days ahead..

 

NOW FOR MY VIEW OF THE NEWS

a.     do you love me

b.     inauguration apt for rent

c.     plastic surgery

d.     NCADP

e.     Social Justice Fund

 

DO YOU LOVE ME??????

   

 A Mexican-American (Chicano) Holiday Story, Las Animas, Colorado, 1969

The Avila Family: Father – Marcos Trinidad Avila, Mother – Carmen Montez Avila. Both were immigrants to America; all 12 of their children were born in Las Animas (the souls). 
The author is the first male and sixth child of the Avila Clan. The story is about a brother named Mano, who gave his permission so that this story could be told.

 

First, some history:

 

Growing up poor in a large family is not always easy. The birthdays and holidays like Christmas are difficult times for children, especially when they are expecting gifts that never seem to materialize.  We never received the kinds of gifts that we heard other children received. Still, we did get plenty of love, refried beans, home made tortillas, rice and tamales, not to mention the tasty hot green or red chili.  For a poor family of fourteen, all of these things did add up to a lot.

 

Christmas was an especially hard time, since our parents often could give us only some much needed clothes and a stocking filled with hard candy, nuts, and perhaps an orange or an apple. Getting the fruit was special given that fresh fruit was so expensive.  Once in a great while you did get a toy – not toys, just one – uno – one single toy and whenever it happened, it made you very happy.

 

On many occasions, we would wait until the schools let out for the holidays and then we would get the Christmas tree from the Memorial Elementary. The second-hand trees from school were often too tall for our house, and we had to shorten them to make them fit our home.  On the bright side, there was always a little tinsel left on them and this was good, because tinsel was expensive.  We would later decorate the tree with our old set of lights, always with a few broken or worn-out bulbs; those that worked glowed and pushed wonderful colored bubbles all night long. We would add our own humble decorations made of paper, popcorn and cranberries, tied together on strings.  Later that night, we would turn off all the lights and cherish our little piece of heaven.  To simply sit and enjoy looking at the lights and listening to Christmas carols on the radio was a great and valuable treasure.

 

As a young child, I always wondered why Santa didn’t deliver gifts to us the way he did the well-to-do Anglo kids.  I thought maybe he was afraid to come into the Barrio, or maybe he just didn’t like Mexicans and poor people.  My friend Wesos (bones properly spelled huesos), a poor white kid, never seemed to get much more than us, so I thought that maybe Santa just forgot about all of us poor folks.  At least we had the homemade tortillas and tamales, which Wesos treasured as much as we did. Maybe, I reasoned, the problem with Wesos is that he hung around with Mexicans, instead of his own kind, and that was why Santa didn’t give him much.

 

As a child, I did have one problem with Christmas: when you went back to grade school after the holidays, the class would have to participate in a show and tell.  Students were expected to talk about how they spent their Christmas and then show off some of their toys.  One year, when it came to be my turn, I had nothing to offer.  That had been a difficult year and my parents were not able to buy us much for Christmas. As a child, I didn’t know how to explain to my classmates all of the wonderful things we received that weren’t new toys: things like the love in our home and the wonderful singing at the Christmas Mass that year.  I didn’t know how to express all of these things and, as it had been a Christmas without many store-bought gifts, I did what any self-respecting kid would do – I lied.

 

Yep, I told a big fat lie. Fatter than most I had ever told. I got up in front of that class, put out my chest and described toys that were only dreams in my head and nothing my parents could afford. Then came the challenge. “Leonard,” – that was what they called me then, because they couldn’t pronounce Magdaleno – “Leonard, next week you bring in your gifts so that we can all see,” implored the teacher. “But, but…” I protested.  “No buts about it, just bring them to class and share with everyone.”  Defeated, I whispered back, “Okay.”

 

Now, what was a boy to do? For me, it was already bad enough just being poor, but by now I had lied and would soon lose mega-face with the rest of the class. I decided that I would bring in some of the toys I had mentioned, no matter what I had to do, and made a plan for where I would get them. The stores were pretty loose with their security in those days and I managed to steal some of the toys; others I took from the yards of more affluent children. Kids being kids, they left their toys in their yards. I snatched some of those toys up after dark and, later, returned most of them once I had participated in the show and tell.  I still blame the teacher and the school for my lying and then stealing that year. 

 

Later, during my senior year in high school, my mother took ill with her last pregnancy, the 12th child being Miguel.  In those days, my mother was a LPN, a licensed practical nurse, but this last pregnancy left her unable to work for many months.  My father, being a farm worker, had little or no chance of finding work that winter.  As a result, we became heavily dependent on the Welfare Department and their food commodities that year and were one of the poorest families in our town.

 

One December evening, close to Christmas, I heard strange noises outside, in our front yard, that sure didn’t sound like Santa and his trusted reindeer.  Some of us looked out through the living room window while others opened the wooden front door to see what was going on.  There, standing outside our door, were about 20 well meaning, well-intended, well-to-do white youth, many being members of my senior class, accompanied by a few adult sponsors.  They were singing Christmas Carols, carrying with them baskets of food including a turkey and a variety of canned goods needed for a holiday dinner.  We didn’t have much food in the house at that time and Christmas dinner was going to be sparse.  Almost anyone would have welcomed this gesture; however, that was the first and last time those white folks ever came to our house. 

 

 

“Mom, I want those people out of our yard.  I am going to tell them to leave; I am going to throw their food in their faces,” I told my mother.  “We may be poor, but we don’t need food from gringos!” I was angry that they would push our poverty in our faces, and was ashamed about being poor.  How dare they come to our house and humiliate us; at the time I was very angry. 

 

“No,” she answered, “you are not going to do that.”  “Mom,” I countered, “I know that we are poor, but we are not that poor!  We don’t need their food and we surely don’t need them and their singing.  Let me get rid of them.”  My mother stopped me in my tracks, saying, “No.  You will do nothing.  Your sisters and brothers need this food.  We are going to accept it and thank them and ask that God bless them.”  “Please, Mom!” I pleaded, “I will never be able to go back to school and face them!  I refuse to go back to high school and see them – they will make fun of me.  I don’t want their food!” My mother prevailed; she, my father and my siblings all went out to thank them and to accept the food without me. Later, once the Caroler’s were gone, my family went through the wonderful assortment of food that was provided in the boxes. I protested with a boycott and stuck to the beans and rice that year, I was so angry and embarrassed.

 

When I went back to High School in January, I did not know how to behave around the students who had come to our yard that Christmas with their songs and baskets of food.  I finally did realize that they did the right thing and that it made my family happy.  Still, I never thanked them and they never mentioned it. Maybe some day, perhaps at a class reunion, I will let them know that the food and the gesture were appreciated.

 

Now, for our Story:

 

Having gone through so many hard holidays, I decided that when I had money, I would buy for each of my family members a good Christmas gift, something to make that day more special. I was finally given the opportunity to do just that in 1969, when I was about 23 years old.  I had a good job working for Colorado Rural Legal Services and saved up my money so that I could take gifts for my parents and the 6 siblings still at home.  I wasn’t home much in those days since I was out trying to save the poor, and out having some pretty exciting adventures being a radical Chicano.

 

The Christmas dinner had been planned for the 25^th at about three in the afternoon.  My family told me they were excited about my pending arrival, because I had not been home for about three months.

 

That afternoon, I was late driving the 240 miles from Boulder to Las Animas.  When I finally got there, it was almost 4pm; I was on Chicano Time in a BIG WAY.  Getting out of my speedy blue 1968 GTO, I gathered the up the gifts under my arms and placed a special envelope in my coat pocket for my brother.

 

Manuel, or Mano as he now likes to be called, was going to get a very special gift from me that year.  He must of have been about 18 and was very independent.  I had chosen a holiday card with a $50 bill in it just for him, his own special gift; I knew that he could use the money and that new crisp $50 bill looked just beautiful. I was sure he would smile and thank me profusely. I barged into the room as the twins swirled around me taking me in their wake around the center of the living room, the other kids cried, “Leonard! Leonard!”  My parents smiled and I saw this great bounty of Mexican food waiting on the table, just waiting for us to sit down and eat it. They were happy to see me and I was happy to be home. I hugged my mom, shook hands with my dad and, after giving him a macho half hug, I began handing out the gifts.  First, I doled out packages to each of my sisters and brothers, and then to my parents.  The last on my list was my brother Mano. He was then leader of the pack, being the oldest of the children still at home.  He just stood there, looking at me in all of my intrusion; this was his territory and I was the visitor…everyone was watching me as I made a big pronouncement with all the flair that I could muster. 

 

“And last but not least, I have a special gift for my brother;” this I did in my best public announcers voice, and then handed him the envelope.  I stood there expecting him to open it and then whoop it up and celebrate.  Mano slowly opened the envelope, looked inside, closed it and then handed it back to me; his dark face became most serious.  We were all stunned!  “What? But this is my gift… my Christmas gift to you,” I blurted out, handing it back.  He tried to give it back to me again, but I stepped away, retreating my arms.  It was then that he suddenly threw the envelope with the money in it on the floor.  “What, you don’t want it?” I was stunned.  “No,” Mano deadpanned. I picked up the card with the $50 bill inside as everyone anxiously watched this drama unfold.  Knowing that both of us had bad tempers and both were very stubborn only added to the element of suspense for our onlookers.  “Listen, it’s Christmas – and this is my Christmas gift,” I coaxed; “Well, I don’t want it,” he persevered.

 

“Oh, yeah? Well, nobody refuses my Christmas gifts!” suddenly I was like a Mafioso, bullying him into acceptance. “It’s Christmas and you are going to take my gift and enjoy it – like it or not!”

 

“I don’t want it,” he repeated, with just as much force.  I tried to put it in his pocket and he pushed me away with both hands.  It was then that things got out of control; before I knew it I had thrown him to the floor, jumping on his chest and grabbing him by the front of his shirt.  Soon, my hands were on his throat.  I had lost complete control of myself in his stern refusal to my generosity and, as a result, had lost my cool.

 

I was pretty strong then and outweighed my brother by about 50 lbs.  Everyone was screaming; my mom and dad were yelling at me in Spanish and English for me to stop.  “Stay out of this!” I shouted out amid the confusion of the moment, “Mano is taking my gift or I will hurt this Mexican!”  By then I had a tight grip on his neck and was pounding his head against the wooden floor, shouting to him that he had to take my gift, my Christmas gift.  My mom had taken up her Mickey Mantle stance and was beating me with the broom.  Once I am angry, I don’t feel much pain; I go into a blind rage, or did in those days.  My brother finally eked out through his constricted throat, “I can’t take your gift.”

 

“Why? Why?” I shouted into his red and swollen face. 
He was already crying by this time.  “Because I don’t know if you love me,” he answered sadly.  “What!” I exclaimed.

 

He continued, “I can’t take anything from you unless I know you love me.”  There I was, on top of his chest with my hands squeezing his neck and, in a confused state, I began expressing my love to my younger brother.  Of course, on the inside I was still bit homophobic at the time, and I thought that must have looked and sounded strange, at the same time it sure felt good to express my feelings for my brother.  I tried a thousand words and ways to say “I love you,” but I think my eyes said it all for me and by then salty tears were running down both of my cheeks. Finally my brother gasped, “Okay, okay! I now know you love me.  So quit choking me and get off my chest!”

 

I got up, helping him to his feet.  We were both crying by then. I gave him the longest of hugs and there were again smiles in the room.  He then broke the embrace, picked up the envelope, took out the money and put it in his wallet.  He looked up at me with gratitude and love, having finally accepted my gift.  Then he asked, “Do you have any more?”

 

All we could do was laugh.

 

 

FRIEND WILLING TO RENT SPACE FOR THE INAUGARATION..

 

Do you know anyone who would like to rent an apartment just 4 blocks from the White House. Due to the location you can avoid traffic and other hassles. If you know any one with the BIG BUCKS let them know or this opportunity… Since this is a private party they prefer that people go through me… and I will connect them.

 

PLASTIC SURGERY IS ALSO HURTING

The economic down turn has affected everyone including those participating in the so-called art of plastic surgery. Now either the prices for these procedures will go down or we will begin seeing folks as they really are. The Botox bubble has burst …

 

Years into the future when they have to dig up bodies for further investigations they will find these plastic bags, and metal\plastic parts that we have had inserted into our bodies there amongst our bones. They will find titanium where my knees used to be.

 

NCADP CONFERENCE..JAN.  22-25

              Harrisburg, Pennsylvania

I hope that you will be able to attend this great conference of the National Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty and share with so many great activists. And of course I will be there with you… so please go to the web page to get the details www.ncadp.org.

.

 

SOCIAL JUSTICE FUND NORTHWEST

        Give what you can

 

Just a reminder that you can help us by giving what you can as an end of the year donation and help to support the activist in the northwest.

www.socialjusticefund.org

 

HOLIDAY WISHES    

 

I want to send my very best to all those with-in my circle of friends. And at the same time I ask even those out side my circle to join me and others as we seek peace and economic justice for all.

 

My best

leno

DEAR SISTERS AND BROTHERS

As some of you may have noticed I continue to lose hair that I now have at least 50 yards of forehead … and it’s getting worse. I often think about growing my hair long in the back and combing it over and then glue it down. Thus I could act like I still had hair.

Now I have seen some curly and wavy hair both in Seattle and Miami that I might consider for transplants. I am tired of having straight hair. If you want to consider becoming a donor just let me know so we can see if you hair will grow on this desert head of mine.

…vanity seems to get to all of us. Me I just want hair on my head. I don’t care about the wrinkles or white hair… I just want some hair. So I will keep waiting and hoping..

NOW FOR MY VIEW OF THE NEWS

a.Madoff

b. social justice fund

c. NCADP Conference

d. 401 K

e. sharing stories for the holidays

===========================================================================================================================

BERNARD MADOFF … MADE OFF WITH OTHER PEOPLES MONEY

Bernard Madoff took his best friends and associates for somewhere around 50 billion dollars. And today many within  his longtime inner circle are broke or missing huge amounts of their savings. These are people who often fought to be part of the Madoff hedge fund. Here is a man who ran the most incredible investment group that annually gave his investors 10-12 % returns annually.  He seemed to be the magic man. And then this past weekend we found out that his business was a sham.

This loss is not limited just to the USA… many foreign investors are also being affected. Know that these losses will cascade down and injure many others in the months to come. Most hurt today it seems by Madoff are investors and foundations from the Jewish community who trusted one of their own to handle their funds. The hardest hit communities are New York City and Palm Beach, Florida.

JEHT a progressive foundation which gave money to many of our social programs will have to close its doors on January 1^st. Foundations like JEHT supported people who did good work and challenged many of illegal actions taken by the Bush administration. And the funds that they provided will be difficult to replace. JEHT is yet another victim of the Madoff scandal.

Again this is another case that should have been discovered earlier had we had good regulations and good aggressive regulators. There was one man who since 1999 has been writing to the SEC asking them to investigate and they did nothing.

We must be careful when we invest our money and the money of others. We should not be so quick to trust and so slow to demand needed information.

This economic melt down is coming at what should be the most cheerful time of the year..and the worst is yet to come.

———————————————————————————————————–

HELP US TO HELP OTHERS..give to the Social Justice Fund

I have come onto the board of the Fund to participate as we assist the progressive organizations and individuals through out the Northwest that are standing up for Justice. I believe in the work of the Fund and in past years when I was Director of the Northwest Immigrant Rights Project we received support from SFJ. Their support helped us then to do some creative musical ventures in our promotion of Human Rights.

Today I am asking all of my readers, who can, to give a donation to the fund. Give what you can. No donation is too small and no donation is too big. Give knowing that our money pooled together through the fund can make a difference. And if you can, let the fund know that I asked you to give. Also take a moment and ask your friends and family to give in your name to the fund. It doesn’t hurt to ask and we might be surprised by who would like to give.

You can also go on our web page www.socialjusticefund.org  and find out how to donate electronically and how to become a member. This is a membership driven fund that believes that we can build a better world by hard work and by giving voice to those who need to be heard.

Please join me and others as we help the Fund continue its work with our friends in the Northwest.

Social Justice Fund Northwest
603 Stewart Street, Suite 1007
Seattle, WA 98101-1264
tel. (206) 624-4081 fax. (206) 382-2640

 

=============================================================

NATIONAL COALITION TO ABOLISH THE DEATH PENALTY..                                                                                                            National Conference in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania Jan. 22-25^th

This is an opportunity for you to meet and share with many abolitionist` from across the country. We are making progress and we need your participation. It is three days of dreaming and learning so that we can continue this most important effort to abolish the death penalty … Yes leno will be there as well the Executive Director of the NAACP and the key note speaker at the awards dinner will be Sister Helen Prejean.  But the real benefit of being at this event is the many activists and all they have to share with all of us.

Let me know if you can attend and be there with us.

WHAT HAPPENED TO MY 401 K ?????

This economic tsunami has destroyed the savings of so many and destroyed their retirement funds. I have few dollars in a 401 K and now it is a 101 Z.. Not worth much but I did try to save.

Bush and his cronies wanted to put SOCIAL SECURITY in the stock market and today we would have destroyed the retirement nest egg of so many families.

Perhaps my 101 Z will make a come back and become a 202 T or something better than what I now have.

Sharing Stories During The Holidays

Please take some time to share some of your own history with your family. In particular share these stories with the children. Also I would suggest that you ask the children to tell you of stories and memories they have already collected in their minds and hearts.

It is our sharing of these stories that keep our history alive for all with whom we are connected. It is the best gift you can give to those you love and care about. Not to mention you could give a deep hug and perhaps a kiss. Also save some of the stories and hugs for me.

In the next Ahora I will share one of my holiday stories.

My best

leno

 

DEAR SISTERS AND BROTHERS

 

I WILL NOT BE NAMED TO REPLACE OBAMA AS SENATOR OF ILLINOIS

            I know that some will be disappointed

I must admit that I did make a pitch to be named to Obama’s Senate seat. I had a dream of continuing his work in the Senate and representing the people of Illinois.

But there were some obstacles to my candidacy

1.      first is that I was not a registered voter in the state of Illinois.

But I am sure with enough money that could be fixed

2.      I could not pronounce the Governors last name

3.      third  I thought his wife was a pain you know where

4.      fourth the only payment I could make for such a position

was Jalapenos, refried beans and tamales.

But now the governor is being asked to resign and my Mexican food bribe may be on

one of the FBI tapes… I am worried about the FBI and media chasing me .. So in the days ahead I may have to disappear.. I may have to shave my head, my beard and perhaps change my last name to some thing like Smith, O’Malley, or Jones.

I may just have destroyed my political future …and perhaps in the wake yours…

NOW FOR MY VIEW OF THE NEWS

a.      Protect farmworkers

b.      The inauguration

c.      Workers occupy plant

d.      No match letters

 

PROTECT FARMWORKERS

            Attend the hearing in Denver on Monday Dec. 15th

 

As we know Bush is trying to change a lot of regulations that regulate worker, the environment, and many other areas important to us. He is doing this in the last weeks of his administration and we must protest.

Leno,

As I mentioned to you during our conversation, the United Farm Workers and

A coalition of farm worker groups are interested in making sure that immediate

Attention is paid to two separate trainings around the “New H-2A Temporary

Agricultural Labor Certification Program.” These U.S. Department of Labor

Trainings are a sham and designed to help advance the Bush Administration’s

Attempt to push through labor regulations that would hurt farm workers by

Removing workplace protections and lowering wages.

There is an urgent need to make farm worker voices heard at each of these

Trainings. Here are the details:

Denver Training – H2A Training

Monday, December 15th; 9:00 a.m. – 3:00 p.m.

Hyatt Regency Denver

650 15th Street, Denver, CO 80202

http://www.dtiassociates.com/OFLCbriefings/DenverLogistics.cfm

Thanks.

RAMON RAMIREZ

PCUN

Oscar Gonzales

UFW Foundation

323-270-6652 cell

OscarG@ufwfoundation.org

———————————————–========

GUESS WHO IS ATTENDING THE INAUGERATION JAN. 20^TH

I think I worked it out so that I (leno) will be in Washington, DC on the 20^th

My arrival is on the 17^th and I leave the 22^nd. Thus I get to drink in all of the pre and post events. I will be there amongst the millions dancing, marching, and celebrating a new day for us all.

Each day I go to the mail box hoping to find my SPECIAL INVITATION to one of the many balls that take place on inauguration day. And so far the only thing that I have found are more credit card bills… but I am still hopeful… after all I worked for Obama

And I like you got many out to the polls… NOT TO MENTION ALL THE OBAMA GEAR I DISTRIBUTED THROUGH OUT THIS COUNTRY AND HAITI.

 

Don’t Forget me Barack

———————————————————————————————————-

 

WORKERS OCCUPY PLANT

UE union workers at the Republic Doors and Windows factory in Chicago have been occupying the plant since Dec. 5.  Management suddenly announced the factory would close without giving the workers the 60 day notice required under the WARN Act. It said workers would not get the severance pay and vacation pay they are owed because Bank of America backed out of its loan with the company.

We  should all support this kind of an action when workers do what needs to done to preserve what is owed to them..

There is a good chance that they will receive the proper notice and wages..And we must get ready for many more occupations and demonstrations.

—————————————————————————————————————

 

IPC Applauds Court Decision to Stick to Schedule in
SSA No Match Regulation Litigation
IPC Spring 2008 report provides analysis of the program

December 8, 2008

 

Washington, D.C.-A federal judge in San Francisco has denied a government request to quickly issue a final decision on whether the Bush Administration may implement its new Social Security Administration (SSA) “no match” rules.  The lawsuit brought by labor unions and employers seeking to block the rule will move forward under a standard schedule, and a decision will not come until late February or March of 2009.

“We applaud Judge Breyer for not bowing to the Bush Administration’s political pressure to rush a decision.  There is too much at stake to hurry the process.  By sticking to a standard court schedule the judge has ensured that he will take all evidence and arguments into careful consideration before issuing a decision that could have a harmful impact on millions of U.S. workers,” stated Angela Kelley, Director of the Immigration Policy Center.  “The Obama Administration will also have the opportunity to consider whether this is a practical and cost-effective program to pursue.”

In October, the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) issued an administrative rule setting new procedures for employers who receive “no match” letters from the SSA.  If implemented, employers who do not follow the new rules could face increased penalties for hiring unauthorized workers.  Ever since the rule was first issued in 2007, the courts have blocked its implementation.

Immigrant, business, and labor advocates have argued the new attempts to use the “no match” program–an SSA program used to help U.S. workers track earnings and receive benefits–as an immigration enforcement tool, is a purpose for which the program is ill equipped.

Implementation of the new rule would also have a potentially devastating impact on the economy.  As unemployment numbers continue to rise, the “no match” rule could result in as many as 165,000 U.S. citizens and legal workers losing their jobs and could cost employers over $1 billion per year according to an April 2008 study commissioned by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce.

IPC has produced a comprehensive analysis of the SSA No Match program and the DHS rule. The Social Security Administration No Match Program: Inefficient, Ineffective, and Costly. 
————————————————————————————————–

THE NFL IS LETTING 150 EMPLOYEES GO

Unemployment is hitting all parts of our economy and no agency is safe. This Tsunami of human misery is taking its toll on families and the economy. The NFL is having to let go 10% of their employees go at a time when many chains are closing many of their stores. The numbers of the unemployed and underemployed is growing and the end is not in sight. We must find a way for these people to find reasonable employment or we will all be on the streets.

My Miami best

leno

 

 

 

 

DEAR SISTERS AND BROTHERS

 

I WILL NOT BE NAMED TO REPLACE OBAMA AS SENATOR OF ILLINOIS

            I know that some will be disappointed

I must admit that I did make a pitch to be named to Obama’s Senate seat. I had a dream of continuing his work in the Senate and representing the people of Illinois.

But there were some obstacles to my candidacy

1.      first is that I was not a registered voter in the state of Illinois.

But I am sure with enough money that could be fixed

2.      I could not pronounce the Governors last name

3.      third  I thought his wife was a pain you know where

4.      fourth the only payment I could make for such a position

was Jalapenos, refried beans and tamales.

But now the governor is being asked to resign and my Mexican food bribe may be on

one of the FBI tapes… I am worried about the FBI and media chasing me .. So in the days ahead I may have to disappear.. I may have to shave my head, my beard and perhaps change my last name to some thing like Smith, O’Malley, or Jones.

I may just have destroyed my political future …and perhaps in the wake yours…

NOW FOR MY VIEW OF THE NEWS

a.      Protect farmworkers

b.      The inauguration

c.      Workers occupy plant

d.      No match letters

 

PROTECT FARMWORKERS

            Attend the hearing in Denver on Monday Dec. 15th

 

As we know Bush is trying to change a lot of regulations that regulate worker, the environment, and many other areas important to us. He is doing this in the last weeks of his administration and we must protest.

Leno,

As I mentioned to you during our conversation, the United Farm Workers and

A coalition of farm worker groups are interested in making sure that immediate

Attention is paid to two separate trainings around the “New H-2A Temporary

Agricultural Labor Certification Program.” These U.S. Department of Labor

Trainings are a sham and designed to help advance the Bush Administration’s

Attempt to push through labor regulations that would hurt farm workers by

Removing workplace protections and lowering wages.

There is an urgent need to make farm worker voices heard at each of these

Trainings. Here are the details:

Denver Training – H2A Training

Monday, December 15th; 9:00 a.m. – 3:00 p.m.

Hyatt Regency Denver

650 15th Street, Denver, CO 80202

http://www.dtiassociates.com/OFLCbriefings/DenverLogistics.cfm

Thanks.

RAMON RAMIREZ

PCUN

Oscar Gonzales

UFW Foundation

323-270-6652 cell

OscarG@ufwfoundation.org

———————————————–========

GUESS WHO IS ATTENDING THE INAUGERATION JAN. 20^TH

I think I worked it out so that I (leno) will be in Washington, DC on the 20^th

My arrival is on the 17^th and I leave the 22^nd. Thus I get to drink in all of the pre and post events. I will be there amongst the millions dancing, marching, and celebrating a new day for us all.

Each day I go to the mail box hoping to find my SPECIAL INVITATION to one of the many balls that take place on inauguration day. And so far the only thing that I have found are more credit card bills… but I am still hopeful… after all I worked for Obama

And I like you got many out to the polls… NOT TO MENTION ALL THE OBAMA GEAR I DISTRIBUTED THROUGH OUT THIS COUNTRY AND HAITI.

 

Don’t Forget me Barack

———————————————————————————————————-

 

WORKERS OCCUPY PLANT

UE union workers at the Republic Doors and Windows factory in Chicago have been occupying the plant since Dec. 5.  Management suddenly announced the factory would close without giving the workers the 60 day notice required under the WARN Act. It said workers would not get the severance pay and vacation pay they are owed because Bank of America backed out of its loan with the company.

We  should all support this kind of an action when workers do what needs to done to preserve what is owed to them..

There is a good chance that they will receive the proper notice and wages..And we must get ready for many more occupations and demonstrations.

—————————————————————————————————————

 

IPC Applauds Court Decision to Stick to Schedule in
SSA No Match Regulation Litigation
IPC Spring 2008 report provides analysis of the program

December 8, 2008

 

Washington, D.C.-A federal judge in San Francisco has denied a government request to quickly issue a final decision on whether the Bush Administration may implement its new Social Security Administration (SSA) “no match” rules.  The lawsuit brought by labor unions and employers seeking to block the rule will move forward under a standard schedule, and a decision will not come until late February or March of 2009.

“We applaud Judge Breyer for not bowing to the Bush Administration’s political pressure to rush a decision.  There is too much at stake to hurry the process.  By sticking to a standard court schedule the judge has ensured that he will take all evidence and arguments into careful consideration before issuing a decision that could have a harmful impact on millions of U.S. workers,” stated Angela Kelley, Director of the Immigration Policy Center.  “The Obama Administration will also have the opportunity to consider whether this is a practical and cost-effective program to pursue.”

In October, the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) issued an administrative rule setting new procedures for employers who receive “no match” letters from the SSA.  If implemented, employers who do not follow the new rules could face increased penalties for hiring unauthorized workers.  Ever since the rule was first issued in 2007, the courts have blocked its implementation.

Immigrant, business, and labor advocates have argued the new attempts to use the “no match” program–an SSA program used to help U.S. workers track earnings and receive benefits–as an immigration enforcement tool, is a purpose for which the program is ill equipped.

Implementation of the new rule would also have a potentially devastating impact on the economy.  As unemployment numbers continue to rise, the “no match” rule could result in as many as 165,000 U.S. citizens and legal workers losing their jobs and could cost employers over $1 billion per year according to an April 2008 study commissioned by the U.S. Chamber of Commerce.

IPC has produced a comprehensive analysis of the SSA No Match program and the DHS rule. The Social Security Administration No Match Program: Inefficient, Ineffective, and Costly. 
————————————————————————————————–

THE NFL IS LETTING 150 EMPLOYEES GO

Unemployment is hitting all parts of our economy and no agency is safe. This Tsunami of human misery is taking its toll on families and the economy. The NFL is having to let go 10% of their employees go at a time when many chains are closing many of their stores. The numbers of the unemployed and underemployed is growing and the end is not in sight. We must find a way for these people to find reasonable employment or we will all be on the streets.

My Miami best

leno