America hasn’t taken my personal dreams from me, though it has tried hard. From too many others, it has taken everything.
I can’t write much today because we are leaving for Cape Canaveral and the SpaceX launch. I also can’t — as usual — justify non-paying writing for many hours a day.
I just saw a 3.2 square mile area blocked off by the L.A.P.D. that Los Angeles protestors against George Floyd’s savage murder aren’t supposed to leave. Someone said “go west and declare manifest destiny.”
Another person had a picture of Prada’s “monkey” racist keychains, urging protestors to go see to the Prada store on Rodeo Drive.
“Please,” I said. “Please do.”
I don’t want a single protestor to be hurt, much less killed, but the time could not be more ready for my children to stop this insanity that I and they were born into.
The way I was raised and everything I was taught (in school) could not be more opposite to the way the world really is.
I was raised to obey authority and respect the police. The reality was any of them could be dangerous at any time to me and any other vulnerable person. My grandfather, who served as Constable in my hometown during WWII, told me about bad cops. But I didn’t understand his full meaning for many years.
I was raised to work hard and help other people. If I worked hard and treated other people the way I wanted to be treated, I would have a good life. I’ve been forced out of four different careers by our corrupt and vile capitalist system. Why? Because I am honest. I could not believe the corruption I saw while visiting the Clinton Foundation website and reviewing their sloppy, obviously false financial statements and non-existent “program reports” for programs that in large part — don’t even exist.
Right now I am sitting in Florida. I, a 5th generation California native, was forced out of my 20 year teaching job at Southern California colleges. I always taught part-time because at one point in time, I had a high-paying job raising funds for homeless families at Beyond Shelter in downtown Los Angeles. That job was put out of business in 2011 when money from the Obama stimulus act ran out. I raised funds for the first, last, and only “Green” special needs affordable housing project in Los Angeles County, among many other projects.
I had a baby born with Down Syndrome, Anthony. He was born June 11, 2004. He died in an accident at home January 11, 2005. I was charged with killing him and stood trial in the Ed Edelman Children’s Court in East Los Angeles for three months. The story is here.
I tried to establish a publishing company for diverse authors and stories. The end result of that was my house was foreclosed on and I was forced to file for bankruptcy. I passionately believed, after years of teaching and working in career paths most whites eschew (homeless, very low income families, affordable housing, economic development), realized that the reason more people did not buy and read books was that the books that were published did not interest them. If books that did interest them were available, they would buy and read them. I got a little blowback on that one.
I got rage and verbal attacks to nearly every establishment publishing figure I stated that to. I have been screamed at by white book buyers when I said “studies show that African-American people read more than other ethnic groups.” But as I said, water under the bridge, don’t worry about home ownership or savings — it’s all been “taken care of.”
I have published over 800 pieces here on Medium. You’d think I was a lousy, boring and dull writer with nothing to say since only the most lurid have been featured in any way. I drove cross-country during the COVID-19 epidemic and took pictures. Instead of my writing being featured, a plagiarist was blasted to my phone and plastered all over the Medium front page. What was the topic? Ancient prostitution. Everyone wants to read that!
The protests that are escalating everywhere in U.S. cities are about race. George Floyd was a black man and the man who killed him under color of authority was a white man. My ludicrous life story isn’t unusual for a black American. All the bad things that happened to me are common for them because our society does not value their lives in any way. The only black Americans who have a slight degree of “value” are celebrities and athletes. Even Dr. Henry Louis Gates was arrested for trying to enter his own house in 2009.
I am too old to physically protest and fight in the streets but if it came to it, I would gladly go. I would gladly lay down my life for the freedom of my children, my students, their friends, their families, and their children.
There is nothing about the way I was raised and the values instilled in me by my family that matches the experience that 99% of U.S. people or people around the world have. Hard work is rewarded with termination before retirement. Honesty is rewarded by a thief taking opportunity. Decency is rewarded by a landlord constantly raising rent. Illness is rewarded with eviction and low credit scores. Voting is rewarded with 99% of incumbents being re-elected.
I want people to go to the stars.
That is my dream. I’ve had it in detail.
But I lack the time to write about it because I don’t want to die in the gutter, an old woman with no teeth or medical care, too ugly and old for any man to look at me.
So today I go to the Space X launch at Cape Canaveral and I have sufficient resources to stay until tomorrow, in case the launch doesn’t go off.
Today my children are going to burn things down and I will be so very glad. New, good, decent and honest lives will rise from the ashes of this most corrupt and vile colonial monstrosity I was born into, all unknowing.