Even though I have compartmentalize my blog, some of this post will intertwine to explain my personal evolution in activism.
The picture on the left is me and several other advocates talking with Councilmember McDuffie about homeless issues in DC. This picture in the middle shows my first time testifying at the Wilson building to keep a clinical social worker that was helping my autistic kid at the time in his school, stay at the school. The picture on the right is a protest done with other advocates to address the bad conditions at the family shelter at the former DC General Hospital. Small interesting fact about me. I have stiches on my forehead got them at the hospital when it was a hospital obviously.
“So because of this, I have concluded politicians literally make me sick to the stomach.”
To make a very long story short because I could go on and on about how I got into activism and how I was always one with a child with autism and also how the many times my absolute no's became yes's when I realized more needs to be done and how far am I willing to go. Time will tell. Like doing a youtube channel or getting arrested.
As of lately it has been getting harder and harder to be in advocacy spaces. My thoughts and ideas feel like they are overlooked because I don't have the ways and means to get them considered seriously. I've been said we can't just tax the rich but not emphasize where those funds go and usually it never goes toward housing efforts. Long term housing. It is always temporary solutions and nothing for families. We also need to be honest about what it means to be poor. Homeowners can be poor. They are usually to generations that have been here the longest. I haven't yet find any housing efforts to try to preserve homes for poor black homeowners. Affordability is meant for middle class. That is why these days I rather just say "folks need free housing."
It was already hard to see my own house being flipped. The picture below is a home of friend I knew through NAMI DC. I was leaving/ notes at her door and now I see why it has been hard to reach her. I am scared to know what happened at this point.ng. Working hard tirelessly trying to stay in DC or just moving. These days I am living uncertain times wondering were my head will rest next if evicted. I am just so tired of this constant story of uncertainty. I am so tired of being ignored and dismissed.
It was already hard to see my own house being flipped. The picture below is a home of a friend I knew through NAMI DC. I was leaving notes at her door and now I see why it has been hard to reach her. I am scared to know what happened at this point.
The turning point
I went to see my mother one evening and it would be the last time I saw her alive. She was asleep in the hospital. She had covid but the doctor's said she was doing fine. She was there because she got a urinary infection. I was the only one they allowed to see. I had to keep gloves on. As soon as I stepped out of the elevator I recognized the back of my mom's head. I tried desperately to wake her up. She would talk in a way nothing made any sense and she was still in a sleep state. Her eyes so tightly closed. It was a Thursday. I went shopping I think that evening to get food I thought she might want to eat. Because all she had was apple sauce and jello. Friday I had a choice to go see her or to talk to councilmembers about the DC Comprehensive Plan. I chose to do those meetings. That Saturday morning I got the call that she passed like 8am. I tried to attend a meeting with a councilmember's staff person for cancel rent purposes and my stomach just started hurting so bad. So because of this I have concluded politicians literally make me sick to my stomach. Of all the times I asked for help from Anita Bonds to Robert White. I have been dismissed to some degree all my life and being told lies of change that never will happen for my mom, my kids and it seems the inevitable truth is nothing will be right. No hope, no future, no justice. #familyfocus #educateconstituents #stopthewaronthepoor
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