Silicon Valley De-Bug 21

This issue is dedicated to those who have been falsely arrested or convicted, and the families who have been left in the wake of that injustice. We honor your innocence.

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01 ...... Falsely Arrested 03 ...... Deported for Graffiti 04 ...... I am Deported 05 ...... Lens and Pens 07 ...... Gay Teen Victory 08 ...... No Immigrants Allowed 09 ...... Por Vida 10 ...... SJ Sonidero 11 ...... Getting layed off 12 ...... Fresh off the College Boat 13 ...... Tow Truck Thieve’n 14 ...... Moving Companies Blues 15 ...... A Shot at Justice 17 ...... Building my own company 18 ...... Selling My Books 19 ...... Soul Striving 20 ...... The Young & the Damned 21 ...... SJ on Zero a Day 22 ...... R.I.P. Dr. Octagon 23 ...... Coming Out the Shadows 24 ...... Five Finger Discounts 25 ...... DB Summer Media Acadamy 27 ...... El Chilo

Mothers fight back

SJ on zero a day

Lens & Pens

A book by Sean Boyles and Abraham Menor.

Editor’s Note:

he first time I saw Ramon Vasquez was through a glass window in the main jail during a visit. His family had been coming to De-Bug for a while, telling us about the life he had built, and the situation he was in that threatened to destroy it all. Ramon was falsely arrested for a serious crime he was completely innocent of, and if convicted, would spend the rest of his life in prison.

Despite the context of the moment and place – Ramon was the man his family promised he would be – charismatic, sincere, funny. But every now and again, as he was recounting stories of his childhood or his experiences as a father, he would stop, mid-sentence, suspended in a state of shock. Inevitably, all of his life stories lead to where he was now, and the uncertainty if he will ever return to what once was.

The first draft of his story he wrote from jail, shortly after our visit. We were going to publish it in the last issue, but then the ending changed – he was released.

When I see him now, coming through De-Bug after a day’s work, before he goes off to coach his son’s football team, I am the one in shock.

How a man not only endures but prevails from such an injustice is a testament of what is possible through courage, faith and family.

This issue is filled with similar testimonies of men and women facing the most monumental struggles of their lives – the young man facing deportation for graffiti, mothers who are fighting for their children’s freedom, those beating substance abuse, and more. We are honored to be helping these authors share their testimonies, and hope they inspire, enlighten, and strengthen you, as their stories have done for us.

-- Raj Jayadev Silicon Valley De-Bug is a project of:

NEW AMERICA MEDIA

Family to Family Support for False Arrests What: An open meeting where families who have loved ones they feel have been falsely arrested can find support and guidance from other families who have gone through, or are currently in, similar situations. Families can connect with one another as a community, advocate for the rights of one another, and create solution-based strategies. If you are an organization that would like to start a similar process at your center, contact us for a presentation.

When: Sundays at 2:30pm Where: De-Bug Community Center 701 Lenzen Avenue San Jose, CA 95126

Cover: Tiburon!F!B! Art Direction/Layout: Adrian Avila Translators: Angel Luna, Adriana CabreraGarcia, Melody Valdez, Alejandra Lizardo, Laura Villa

By Ramon Vasquez // Photos by TIBURON!!F!B!

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y name is Ramon Vasquez and I am a twenty-eight year old father of two. I was born and raised in San Jose, California, where I’ve lived my whole life. On

March 20, 2008 I was arrested and charged with a gangrelated murder. It was a charge I was completely innocent of. I did five months in jail, until they released me for lack of evidence. No apology was given to me or my family.

I was arrested while leaving work, guns pointed at me, and was interrogated for countless hours about something that I didn’t know anything about. As I sit here typing this, I still can’t believe it till this day. Apparently, I fit the description -- “Average Hispanic Male” adult. That, along the fact that I have tattoos (none gang-related) was

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enough for them to peg me as a gang-banging murderer. Because of the horrible mistake, my family had to move, I almost lost my job, and five months of my life was taken from me that I can never get back.

Does having tattoos and being an “Average Hispanic Male Adult” justify why I should have gone through this ordeal? I would sure hope not. My tattoos come from my love and passion for Hip Hop, which has been a positive force in my life. None-the-less, the police used them to insinuate that any tattoo is gang affiliated.

When I went to my first court date it was then that I found out I had two co-defendants that I’ve never met nor seen in my life. Now at this point I was lost and in disbelief of what was going on. I still thought that the police would still come and take me home. It didn’t happen.

Sitting I my cell, the more I read the police reports that were written by these police officers, the more I thought that I was being railroaded. I would sit at night and cry asking myself “Why do I have to go through this?” What did I do to deserve this? Why do my children have to go without their father? Why is my fiancée forced to live a single mother’s life?

All my questions still haven’t been answered months later. Let me guess what you’re thinking. You’re probably saying, “Well, you were at the wrong place at the wrong time.” But I wasn’t even there! I was at home asleep with my fiancée and two kids with my mother-inlaw there awake on the phone, but did the investigators want to hear that? No. Whatever went against their story of what happened, they didn’t want it to be discussed.

Initially, my family cooperated with the investigation until one of the Sergeants made a statement to my sister-in-law. When she told him that I was being falsely charged, he had enough cockiness to say, “We arrest innocent people all the time, it might take a year or two, but he’ll get out.”

I never thought this type of injustice happens, but I guess it does.

Later on in the investigation, when detectives found D.N.A. was left at the scene by the suspects, and mine came back negative twice, I thought that evidence would surely liberate me. Even then they still held me, headed towards a path of life in prison for something I did not do. I asked to take a polygraph test and passed it, twice.

Eventually, just a day before my preliminary examination (a sort of mini-trial) I had an unexpected court date.

It was a Tuesday morning about eleven am. I was lying on my bunker style bed cold as always thinking about the days to come. I was in a daze deep in thought then all of a sudden the Correctional Officer came to my cell door and unlocked it. “Vasquez, get up and get ready, you have court!” I told him it couldn’t be me I had court yesterday and I have court on Thursday. He looked at me like I was stupid and said, “I don’t know they just called for you so let’s go.”

I was lead through the hallway to the elevator then to a waiting holding cell. I was placed with some other guys that were going to court as well. We were all talking and I was asked, “What do you have today”? I replied, “I don’t know, I’m not supposed to have court until Thursday.” Then some scruffy man in the back said, “It’s bad news, it’s more charges!” After I heard that, my heart just stopped. Then the Sheriff came to the holding cell and called out, “Vasquez, lets go!” I was placed inside another elevator then guided to another holding cell by myself. As I sat there I was shaking and my mind was racing.

My attorney walked in this room that connects to my holding cell: he’s on one side and I’m on the other side of the graffiti marked window. He takes one look at me and said, “Don’t look so sad, didn’t I tell you I would take care of you?” Then he just walked out. At that time the Sheriff, an older lady, unlocked my cell door and took me inside the courtroom. When I walked in the court room I look to the right and I saw my friends and family, some crying, some smiling.

The judged came in as, we all stood up, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up as well. The District Attorney read off all the charges against me, and finished with, “We the people drop all the charges against Ramon Vasquez due to lack of evidence.” As I heard that I dropped my head down with relief and finally let my guard

Sitting In my cell, the more I read the police reports that were written by these police officers, the more I thought that I was being railroaded.

down for the first time in five long months. The nightmare was over. I started crying and looked directly at the judge and he gave me a smile. As I was being removed from my seat I looked at the D.A. and said “Thank you.” He just said, “Yah, I bet.” I was then lead to my holding cell and the Sheriff said, “You can smile now, you’re going home.” That’s when it really hit me. I fell to my knees in tears and thanked God for this miracle. I was lead back to my floor and eventually my cell. The night, the time when I would be released. could not come any slower.

When I was finally released at about three in the morning, the first person I saw was my brother. He walked up and gave me the tightest bear hug I’ve ever felt. I was eager to see Yvonne, my fiancé, the woman who fought so hard for my innocence. So I raced to the car only to find her asleep. She jumped out of the car and gave me a loving hug that was from her heart. That’s when I knew my freedom was real, and I looked up at the jail in disgust.

We then went to grandma Lucy’s house to see the kids and take them home. I woke up my daughter, who’s five, first and she pulled back from me and started crying as if I was some kind of stranger.

The same went for my 9-year-old son. He looked at me like if I was some random man from the streets. I couldn’t really blame them because during the whole time in jail I only asked to see them twice.

The reason I rarely saw my kids was because when I would seen them I could see the pain in their eyes. When my daughter first visited, in the middle of a conversation between me and Yvonne, she started crying out hysterically, “I want my daddy!” It hurt my heart so much I walked back to my cell holding in my tears, so I wouldn’t show any sign of weakness. When I reached my cell I fell to the concrete floor and balled like a baby. It came to a point where I couldn’t even talk to them on the phone. I always told Yvonne that you put the outside world out of your mind. I made it hard on my family by not calling for days, but it made the time get easier for me to try not to think about what I loved. Everything you love on the outside makes you vulnerable on the inside, and you become a zombie, just a projection of your environment. And of course, being incarcerated also has its own challenges. I wish people wouldn’t limit themselves to their own race when they go to jail because we are all equal and you can learn so much from other races. I know about the pressures to stick to your own cause, but be your own man, and it will show others that we are all equal.

Being away from my family was one of hardest things I have ever had to go through. Being a father, I never had been away from my kids since the day they were born and now I was away from them for a wrongful arrest. The time and distance hurt their little hearts as well as mine.

Yvonne then took pictures of me the same night I was released, because I came out looking like a P.O.W. You could see my ribs and I was very pail. We took them to show the destruction that was done to my body, but from the pictures you couldn’t see the damage done to me mentally. In the days to come I had panic attacks to the point where Yvonne had to console me because someone was at the door.

I always envision the police coming back for me to take me away from the people I love. Even now, when I see police on the street or even on my block I get very nervous and I’m reminded of the whole ordeal again. This is something that I will have to live with for the rest of my life because of the poor police work, but hey, they “arrest innocent people all the time, it might take a year or two, but he’ll get out.”

In the months to come I was involved in a battle with my employer to get my job back. That’s when it hit me that even though we proved my innocence, I was guilty in the courtroom of public opinion. Eventually, I received my job back after two months of jumping through hoop after hoop. Since I’ve been home, my life has come

back together but I still sit and ask myself “What did I do to deserve this?”

I’ve lost faith in the criminal justice system because they have let me down. It’s funny because every attorney I speak to say the same thing “why did you talk to them?” Well isn’t that what were taught growing up, to trust the police? Yet these same people we are told are there to protect us, tried to take my life. I know I ain’t the first, and damn sure ain’t going to be the last. I probably would have slipped through the cracks and got convicted if it wasn’t for my family’s persistence and De-Bug’s guidance.

When locked up, I prayed so much that what was done in the dark is shown in the light, but when I was praying, I was talking about the crime. Now I see it was really for me to show what the police do and how unfair the system is.

All I ask of you reading this is don’t be afraid to be yourself and educate yourself not only when it comes to the criminal justice system, but everything in life. ◊

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By ICE Detainee

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n June of 2008 I was detained by Immigration Custom Enforce- row without getting any rest, the only thing that I wanted was to get ment (ICE) because of a conviction from years back. My crime, somewhere -- even it meant being detained for a long time. the one that might force my deportation, was graffiti.

Eloy is not to different from a county jail or to prison and the My detention by immigration became an odyssey that I thought treatment is almost the same. They even have similar ways to abuse would never end. And to this day, I still don’t know what will ulti- us. The only good thing about Eloy is that the food is a little bit betmately happen with me. When I ended my time in criminal custody, I ter. The health services in Eloy are low, just like the ones that we was detained and transferred by ICE to an immigration facility in San received in the county jails and prisons. Inmates who needed mediFrancisco. In this facility they took my fingerprints, some mugshots cal attention seemed to never receive them. I even saw a man die and told me that I was not eligible for bail until I saw an immigration in front of my eyes in the exercise yard. The staff eventually came to judge who would approve me for bail. help him, but they were too late, and the guy died. The first thing that

I got locked up in a waiting cell and I was crossed my mind was the guy’s family and how told I was going to see the judge the same day, My detention by im- ICE was going to have to explain to them that their which never happened. They only gave me a migration became an loved one died because of ICE’s incompetence. sandwich and orange juice for the whole day.

My point of view on being detained by ICE is odyssey that I thought that Later on, they brought more people and in a we are treated like criminals and put in very couple of hours the cell got crowded. It became would never end. And bad conditions when the only wrong thing that we so crowded that it was even difficult to breath, to this day, I still don’t are accused of is violating is immigration laws. For and there was no room to sit. They had us that we are put in county jails, state prisons, places know what will ultimate- like Eloy and after all this we still have to explain standing up the whole day.

During the night they got us on a bus to ly happen with me. why deserve to stay here and not get deported. be transferred to Yuba County. When we got For people like me, legal residents who have been there, they took our chains off and then we got convicted of a crime, the punishment is double bepulled in a cell for a couple of hours and were told we were going to cause we have to pay for the same punishment twice. We have to be transferred to the ICE agency in San Francisco. We were sup- go and serve our time in a county or state prison, and after we are posed to see the judge that day but we couldn’t, so we had to wait done with that sentence we still have to go and serve time with ICE until the next day. for the same infraction.

That morning we got back to the agency and once again, we I think that this is a new form of exploitation because they make couldn’t see the judge. Afterwards we were taken to the Oakland thousands of dollars a year for each detainee. And whatever they airport where a Homeland Security airplane was waiting for us to bring in, it is certainly just profit, because that money does not trickle take us to Arizona. The guards and the people in charge of the air- down to care for the detainees. And regardless of how much money plane were extremely hostile and very disrespectful. The ICE agents that ICE makes, it can’t compare to all the losses and all the damage treated us worst then animals. They would kick the little belongings that they have done to the families of the detained. that we had, and they were talking to us in a very disrespectful way.

I think Obama and his administration should listen to our comThe actions and bad ethics of these individuals was tainted with rac- plaints and they should start working on an amnesty. And while imism and abuse. We made a lot of stops in California before we got to migration reform is being debated, they need to find an alternative the airport in Arizona. A bus came to take us to our final destination to detain the immigrants, because our immigration status does not the ICE’s Federal Detention Center in Eloy, AZ. After two days in a make us a danger to society. ◊

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By Andrea Cancino // 19 years old Illo by Fransico Garcia

yawn escapes my lips, as the back of my right hand catch- quila, o te dolera la pansa!” I let the water bottle drop empty look up es the sweat that is building on my forehead. I hear the at the hateful sun. people around me laughing and whispering in Spanish. I Was I wrong in the idea I had once before on what being Mexitry to ignore the comments, trying not to grow more frus- can really was? I had been born in this land! I grew up here until I trated. I have been deported to Mexico for three years after living in became eight years old! I ran and played in these streets! Why was the States without papers nearly all my life. it that now I could not handle something as simple as the people and

There is no doubt that the situation in Mexico is hard, but I would the customs? The question crashed against my skull like the heat have never known the exact extent of the situation until my luck was against my face. changed on September 11th of 2008. I have been undocumented What is it really to be Mexican? What is it to be a Chicana? I had nearly all my life, but in the process of getting them fixed, immigra- always considered myself full Mexican, because I have the nopal en tion officials told me I needed to go back to Mexico and stay there la frente (cactus on my forehead) but I have formed my ideas and (here) for 3 years. I got on a plane, leaving grew my customs according to what to them from the San Francisco airport, on my way I have been undocumented is a Chicana. What am I then? to Ciudad Juarez for an interview with immi Is missing the home were I lived half of gration. Nervous as hell I got myself on that nearly all my life, but in the my life really as wrong as they see it? plane and left on a trip that went from one process of getting them America does something to you. It reweek to three long and hot years. I was in shapes you as your mind opens to analyze shock. A couple of months ago, I was a girl fixed, immigration officials new ideas, new ways of living, new technolin Redwood City, going to school, living the told me I needed to go back ogy and a new you. Even my mother, who still California life, doing work for my community, believes a woman should serve a man and living with family. I would go to protests for to Mexico and stay there cook and clean her life away has changed immigrant rights during the day and hang (here) for 3 years. and is judged back here in Mexico by the out with my friends at night. I would proudly family because she says “hello” instead of identify as a Mexican woman. “halo,” or “bueno.” We grow more apart each

The extreme cultural shock was intense, and the rejection of a generation. There are different types of Mexicans, those of us who family that I did not know at all made my sentence feel more miser- are more “Americanized”; and those who have stayed back and live able. They think I do not belong here, that I am not Mexican. “Apu- each day to the harsh reality of intense poverty, water wells, beans, rate Chicana!” my aunt laughed at my arm burnt and the machete and tortillas with salt. slipped from my hand from the sweat collected in my palms. “Aqui no tenemos estufas electricas ni micro ondas ni nada de esa mierda So am I a Mexican? Yes... a la que te mal acostumbrastes. orale agase una mujer!” (In here we don’t have electric stoves, microwaves or any of that shit that I am me, and that is Mexican. ◊ had you spoiled, this makes you a woman) Her comments became more and more annoying as she said them. I drop the machete and it pierces the ground, letting it stand on its own as I see my little cousin arrive with the water. I drink desperately and my tias exclaim, “Transiliconvalleydebug.com Summer 09

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s book by Sean Boyle “Lens and Pens” a r and Abraham Meno rks the collaboration wo This book features art r’s no Me am d Abrah of Sean Boyles an llaboco a d de lan ey Th and photography. ng ck & Brown Clothi ration show at Bla prothe g rin du d an 08 Boutique back in 20 y rk for the show, the cess of creating wo es tur fea ok bo e Th . ok decided to flip a bo art and Abraham’s samples of Sean’s ok importantly, the bo photography. Most of t ou me ations that ca showcases the cre their collaboration. nths ago, Sean and One night, four mo ke copy center to ma Abraham went to a Abraso ks oo hb etc sk copies of Sean’s hes ent with the sketc ham can experim an Se ve ga n the am on his photos. Abrah t en rim pe ex for him to a stack of photos ld me to s ing int pa d an with his sketches m that point on, the the two worlds. Fro e les and ideas. Th two kept flipping sty ex to m allowed the “Paintographs” show l ica ys ph a in rk wo ion hibit their collaborat of on cti Pens” is a colle setting. “Lens and in a sick little book ed ag ck pa rk their wo e home with them tak that people could d sample of “Lens an to enjoy. Here’s a Pens.” ◊

ct Bound 80 Pages - Perfe in San Jose d Color - Printed an e hit W Black & m co • Brainsoiled.

Seanboyles.com

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The settlement agreement speaks loudly.

Rochelle and I have not focus on a pacified 5 letter word “SORRY,” but rather we fought for a 6 letter word “CHANGE.” That was our goal and we won what we really wanted, to make Vallejo a safer learning environment for all students.

Interview by G.Melesaine

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n the Feb/Mar 08’ issue of De-Bug, we featured Rochelle and Cheri Hamilton’s pursuit for justice. It was a struggle for themselves, for Vallejo and for the queer community. At the time, Rochelle was a high school student at Jesse Bethel High School.

I had found Cheri’s story browsing through a Myspace forum for parents of gay teens.

It had been almost a year and the mother/ daughter team of Cheri (mom) and Rochelle Hamilton (daughter) were still fighting against the homophobic harassment against Rochelle’s school and teachers. Rochelle was being told she was going to hell because of her sexuality, teachers would taunt her, “Why do you look like a boy?” and other inappropriate comments. Rochelle was forced to change schools because she couldn’t take any more of her teachers and staff’s daily homophobic comments, and Cheri was still trying to get answers to the repercussions of these actions, if there were any. Recently though, I got a call from Cheri, whom I’ve become good homies with and talk to frequently, she said “guess what foo?” Now if we weren’t good friends and her next words weren’t the words she told me, then I may have reacted differently. “We won our case!” The mother/daughter team who represented all parents/children who have had to go through the same issues, have won a historic victory. California law requires schools to protect students from harassment and discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity. The five-year agreement brokered by the ACLU requires that the school district adopt a clear policy against discrimination and harassment based on gender identity and sexual orientation, develop specific procedures for handling complaints, and provide mandatory training for teachers and staff and $25,000 dollars will go into a trust fund for Rochelle.

I spoke to the sheroes about their amazing

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victory.

G: So tell me what’s this journey been like for you?

Cheri: It has been long and painful. With the support from De-Bug and the ACLU, I felt I finally had people who understood our pain.

I had to write many letters and make many phones calls not allowing the district to run from this. Every issue Rochelle faced and every tear she dropped I brought it to their attention. Meanwhile, I held Rochelle, reminding her that nothing was wrong with her, that she was beautiful inside and out. As Rochelle asked me why the teachers wouldn’t stop, I reminded her what her father and I endured for being a black and white couple, and if we would have given into a hateful society then she wouldn’t be here. As Rochelle listened she realized that she also had to stand up for herself and others. I was not backing down and reminded the school administrators that my daughter has a right to be herself and receive an education in their district. While Rochelle grabbed her strength from me and as I counseled her through every put down, Rochelle gained strength, and became a shoulder or a ear for lgbtq friends wanting to offer any support that they needed. It reminded her on how important it was for her to continue the fight for change.

G: What was some of the unexpected hardships from this experience?

Cheri: Rochelle is going through the ongoing process to regain faith in her teachers.

And she also lost a lot of school time, and is trying to make up her lost credits and finish school.

G: How was the schools reaction to case and Rochelle? Were at least any of them sympathetic, or apologetic to Rochelle?

Cheri: The school and the district chose to be sympathetic but not willing to apologize.

G: Is there a message you have as being a parent of a gay teen for other parents who have to go through this as well and don’t know what to do?

Cheri: Always have the will!!! You are your child’s voice! They are not heard unless you speak. Always be proud of your kids and remember how special they are. Smiles last forever in a mother’s heart. Listen to your kids and find out what is going on at their school, who their teachers are, and if your child is complaining, upset or withdrawn, find out why.

G: Rochelle, is there any message you have for the LGBTQ youth going through the same issues as you?

Rochelle: Don’t let anyone put you down and tell you that you can’t do or be what you want to be. It’s your life, live it how you want to and stand up for your rights.

G: What do you two plan on doing in the future?

Rochelle: Mom wants to help other parents of teen gays. I want to be a teen gay rights activist and help students with the coming out process so they are not alone and know that they are wanted and loved for who they are. I’m starting a Gay Straight Alliance at my new school next year. GSA group. I want to eventually have my own TV show.

G: How does justice feel and what do you think about the change this will create for the LGBTQ community?

Rochelle: This going to benefit Vallejo all the way around. Vallejo now will be a safe learning environment including staff and students. Also we hope all the surrounding districts will adopt the same training for their staff and students recognizing how important it is to keep our kids safe and free from harassment. LGBTQ students now know that we care and that they have rights too. Just because your LGBTQ does not mean you’re not American, we pay taxes too. ◊ Rochelle has been telling her story of struggle and victory far and wide, speaking at campuses across the country. She was awarded KQED “Hero of the Year,” and was a featured speaker at San Francisco’s Pride parade.

By Tiburon!!F!B! Illo by Jose Martinez As a young Mexican immigrant you get used to certain things. Stuff counterfeit. But that makes no sense. The argument that its easy like harassment by police, discrimination by employers, as well as to counterfeit is invalid, because when asked “how do you know its Americans who look down upon immigrants is all part of growing fake? The usual reply is “We don’t know…that’s why we don’t allow up for many of us. America creates hustlers out of my people, and them.” This is after he had told me minutes before that they had prewhen they spit on our face and shut doors, we have to climb through viously caught many people with fake ID’s. If someone would ever windows, find loop holes, and shape shift to the fit in the spaces that buy a fake ID it would be a California ID, not an ID that comes with will allow us in. And that includes the clubs. so much baggage and discrimination,

I am no different than any young person in the world. I like to San Jose has a rich Mexican culture like no other city that I have party, socialize, have a few drinks, flirt with the honeys, and when it ever been to in this country. To think that the only presfeels right, dance the night away. It seemed that my only outlet for ence we have in the nightclub scene is the doing such things were the downtown San Jose nightclubs. I could ones that hustle the system, and the have gone to any club in any given day and find friends to keep me working hands that help the nightlife entertained. I guess I’m a likable guy and making friends comes easy stay alive, it’s a disgrace. for me.

Although we

So this year, when the bars/night clubs it doesn’t make any sense have been told started denying my Mexican Matricula, a Mexi- why the Matricula -- a form of by both bounccan government issued ID, I had to find different ers and club ID that is accepted at banks, owners that that angles to getting in. Knowing performers, DJs, and an array airports, government institu- cannot accept of enthusiastic people, tions, even by San Jose Po- Matricula cards I was able to cre- lice Department on the street because of San Jose ate a system – would be denied at a club.

Police Department of trial and (SJPD) rules, we have error to get found that argument to in. But none-the-less, it doesn’t be based on a lie. make any sense why the Matricula In order to get to the bottom of this, -- a form of ID that is accepted at banks, myself and another De-Bug member airports, government institutions, even by met with the San Jose Police Chief San Jose Police Department on the street Rob Davis. Surprised by the excuse – would be denied at a club. the clubs were giving Mexican immi I feel sad every time someone tells me, grants, he assured us that the SJPD “I’m having my birthday at (insert night does not enforce what forms of idenclub name here), you have to be there.” tification is used by the clubs. He said I always have to make excuses why I that that in fact had “no stakes in that can’t be at their birthday, but at the same game,” and was concerned that certain time I am running out of excuses. With clubs maybe scapegoating SJPD on this July rapidly approaching, the busiest issue. Our meeting left us with more quesbirth day month in my calendar I need to tions than answers, as well as in the middle of a come up with more creative reasons to why maze with many directions that lead to battles.

I can’t attend.

Battles though we are more than willing to en I have tried to get in at the same time as my gage in. friend, an international student from Japan, he got Now my existence in the downtown area is in with no problem, I on the other hand was hated limited to dive bars. Don’t get me wrong, I appreon by three different clubs. And he only had a ciate the dive bars but human beings have differJapanese version of a Matricula card. From ent moods, so dive bars are not always the type these type of social experiments I’ve done in of environment that one desires. I could step up the downtown area, I’ve come to the conclu- my hustle but at this point it doesn’t seem a desire sion that it’s only the Mexican immigrant being of mine to be in the downtown area at all due to hated on. the San Jose police targeting Mexicans for drunk

A friend of mine who also uses a Matri- in publics, resisting arrest, and impounding cars for cula Card as his form of ID was denied entrance not having a drivers license. at Tres Gringos, a downtown club. When he If San Jose’s aim is to get rid of Mexicans from pointed out the irony to the owner that the club has the down town area they have achieved that with a Spanish-language name, yet is excluding Mexi- me, for now. I’m done playing games with the cans, the owner laughed and responded, “Well, its downtown area, the aim now is to change their not called Three Beaners!” system so that no one has to go through what I

I have been told that the Matricula card and other friends have to go through. ◊ cannot be accepted because it is easy to siliconvalleydebug.com Summer 09

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I

By Paco

was born and raised in the eastside of San Jose. Most of my youth was spent playing sports, hanging out with friends, skating, and music. Drugs weren’t a big concern in my life until I reached fourth grade. I fell into a deep demy life. pression with my problems at home. Smoking weed was my only I got into punk, metal, screamo and hardcore bands. Out of all escape from these problems. Attending Dorsa Elementary School of them, the hardcore stuck out for me the most. It has become a also was a big escape for me. I would spend my days getting high brotherhood for me. Kids coming from broken homes trying to find before, during, and after school. As I went on to attend 6th grade at somewhere to belong is what built the connection for many of us.

Fisher Middle School, I was introduced to alcohol. At that moment, Just having somewhere, something, to call our own. That’s how I I didn’t need anything from anyone. came a cross falling in love with the music. It’s about the message,

I was exposed to diversity, from race to other people’s financial the music and always trying to brake away from this world. Never status. Even my manner of speech was uncommon. The only thing trying to follow society or the new fads. Just having a mind of your I had in common with everyone else was getting high. I moved to- own to better yourself. Hardcore has become a lifestyle for me. wards the end of 8th grade to the South Side, graduated and went Maya Over Eyes (the band I’m in) and I have taken the message on to Gunderson High School. and made it a bigger one. With heavy guitar riffs

At that point I became conscious of the fact I got into punk, metal, and lyrics that come from struggles. The music that I could make money on the side by slanging screamo and hardcore speaks for itself. As I got more involved in the my supplies. Never attending my classes, doing music, my other habits were falling off me. Somemy business all the time and becoming gang bands. Out of all of them, thing in me made me want to graduate and not affiliated was my lifestyle. By this time my de- the hardcore stuck out... just be another statistic. pression only grew worse. The habits increased once I had found out my homie, who became my it has become a brother- Prior to this, my homie Sergio had always been best friend, had been murdered that year. Things hood for me. on my ass about my habits. But the choice I took weren’t looking good for my freshmen year at Gthat sophomore year was one to keep me out of town. My ambition to make money was a greater trouble, and went completely straight edge – no one then graduating on time. Not even a semester into the school drugs or alcohol. year and a conflict with a bunch of my fellow junior varsity team- As I decided to become sober, a lot of my friends didn’t like mates between the varsity team had caused me expulsion from the the fact that I no longer wanted that life. They completely ditched district. I was gone as quick as I arrived. All this only made me bitter my friendship because they took my new life as something I wasn’t. about life and didn’t care where I ended up. I was living outside the Others saw it as a joke, and I was called a square, a loser and even district and Oak Grove High became my new school. a Mormon. No one invited me anywhere because I was now as the

No friends to get me through the day, not caring about my “boring” person. The question everyone would ask was, “How do education, and a new school to make more money. Once again, the you have fun?” It amazed me how people only knew fun as getting connection I had with everyone else we’re drugs. My deals became drunk, passing out and not remembering last night. frequent. But it was never enough to keep me content. I would itch

But my decision to become drug free has been the best and for more. As the business grew, so did my threats. It never fazed most important choice I have ever made. I dropped my gang act, me until I was warned that I would be killed if I didn’t break off my my dealings, and all those homies who once were close to me but dealing. That really brought a reality check to my life. So I backed only cause the drugs. It’s been five sober years. off from dealing and being seen around the block. The life I had was Ironically though, part of the way I have been able to stay sotaking me nowhere. ber for five years now is all the other people who judge me for being

Music had always been a big part of my life but never took straight edge. Another thing that I draw strength from is the music I initiative on pursuing it. It’s been my first calling ever since I can play and my straight edge brothers all over the world. Because this remember. My objective soon turned to making music and less to isn’t a trend as most say or think. It’s a decision I took for myself. my business. I began projects here and there. Jamming with all It’s also saved me from a lot of grief and heartache. But one thing sorts people from before and new people I was meeting. When my is for sure, I don’t hate on people who don’t live a non-sober life. friends would get together it became a party ‘till we dropped. My And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I plan on being this way habits were still the same but by this time, they had become more for the rest of my life. Not for my friends, or my family, but for mysocial. It went from parting every weekend, to parting everyday of self. the week. But sophomore year at Oak Grove was life altering for me. The person I become was no longer the person I was. I wanted a change for the better, and making music became more central to

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Summer 09 siliconvalleydebug.com

janitors in the malls, or at the supermarkets.

You probably came across one of them the last time you went to the store and asked for help to carry out your groceries.

And despite the fact that these DJ’s rarely get paid to do what they love, a lot of artists can attribute their success and stardom to the DJ’s Sonidero parties. It is where songs get known and build a street level fan base. In neighborhoods all over Latin America, people look to their local Sonidero DJ as their voice for their hood, and their ear to the

Sonidero is a style of music that comes from the neighborhoods of Mexico that consists of Cumbia, Salsa, Mexican Rock and what ever is popular at the time – all designed by the mixing of the all important DJ.

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alking through the industrial areas of San Jose at night, you may find more then than the auto shops, machine shops or empty warehouses you may have expected.

It will be the sounds that will get you – the unexpected Cumbia music coming from one of those warehouses and out of some really big speakers. If you walk in, and are lucky, you also may come across a pista clandestina (clandestine dance floor) where your local Sonideros get down in the get down. In a building that by day might have just housed broken down cars, this place will have been transformed by the music and culture. It will be lasers, fog machines and joyful crowds dancing to the blasting Cumbia, which has a bit of current popular local music blended in.

By Angel Luna // Illo by Jose Martinez Sonidero parties pop up in the most unexpected places in San Jose, and are bringing a bit of Mexico to the city.

Sonidero is a style of music that comes from the neighborhoods of Mexico. It is a block party that consists mainly of Cumbia, with a mix of Salsa, Mexican Rock and what ever is popular at the time – all designed by the mixing of the all important DJ. The dancing is essential, and let me tell you that some of the homies get down like James Brown.

San Jose is experimenting in a new wave of Sonideros that not only appeals to the old neighborhood in Mexico to the new immigrants here in San Jose.

A lot of the immigrants that play this type of music don’t look like your average Hollywood DJ. Some work in carwashes, as

music scene at large.

In San Jose, we’re lucky to have some of the best and well-known Sonidero DJ’s in the world, a group called Sonido Torres Djs – made up of Alex Torres, Edgar Torres, Geovany Torres, David Torres, and Hector Torres. And these guys are changing the game.

While Sonidero music is all about the local, the neighborhood, Sonido Torres is finding a way to connect hoods across the globe.

They converted their garage (what they call with pride the “House of the Torres Dynasty”) into the internet radio station -- Lapagiansonidera.com on Thursday and Tigrsonidero. com on Fridays. On those days, they rotate and transmit religiously from 6pm to 10pm to bring to the ears of the connoisseurs of the sonidero their favorite tunes through cyberspace. They also invite musicians to come play live, and the feed that through the site to fans everywhere. Their fan base goes as far as Europe, Mexico, Central America and the US.

I asked them why they do this and they just simply told me with a lot a pride, “Because this helps our brothers and sister to get through the rough times and the solitude of being in a strange please far away from home.” They said that the music is a way for immigrants to keep their connection to back home. People even send dedications to their loved ones through their station.

As migration is creating distances among us, and between generations, this new version of Sonidero DJ is bringing us back together. So don’t be shy, send some shot outs, and get your Cumbia on from the comfort of your house. ◊

siliconvalleydebug.com Summer 09

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By Irene Vargas El Don Juan

Illo by

H

uman resource is the clean up crew of any company. It’s the dumps, the dirty work. It’s what your manager doesn’t want to do. It was created with the impression of keeping the employees best interest in mind, but what it’s really for is to cover the company’s ass from any legal liabilities. I started working at a large internet marketing firm about a year and a half ago, looking for a more structured lifestyle.

This was what I thought I needed. At the time, I wanted some kind of order…something that gave me a sense of security. A friend of mine worked at the same place I did and told me about a job opening they had. I ended up getting the job and never realized how getting it and losing it would impact my life.

I was somewhat thrown into the job. I started as a secretary, and due to my boss, the HR manager’s neglecting of responsibilities, I soon became the HR Assistant and mostly responsible for all HR issues in our building. I learned to do my job well, but also grew to hate it. As time passed I felt chained for someone of such a young age. Only 19, working and going to school, both full-time, started to weigh hard on me. I felt part of the American natural order of things when that has never been my way. I started to neglect old thoughts, old lifestyles and pretty much everything I ever used to love. The thing about working in HR is that it consumes most of your life. Emotional investments are abandoned, stress begins to devour your mind and body and you start to feel, in a sense, lost. Corporate welfare becomes your only concentration. The worst part was the constant layoffs.

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Even though we worked mostly through agencies and it was never my decision as to who stays and who goes, I still felt the weight of people lives being thrown on my shoulders, so much that I literally started to get pains in my upper back, often feeling like I was carrying a small child on my shoulders. It was tough making those phone calls. Knowing that when an employee passed by my desk on their way out of the building saying “Have a good day Irene!” that it would be the last I would ever see of that person.

The thing about working in HR I

is that it consumes most of your life. Corporate welfare becomes your only concentration.

remember a time when I had to give an exit interview to one of our employees. He was a good worker and, in fact, I was the one who got him the job there. This employee was my friend, and about a year before this I was grip-taping his skateboard at a local skateshop I worked at downtown. “Work is too slow right now, we cannot keep you. Please know that you were a great employee and we wish you our best regards. Unfortunately, your work here has ended.” Slow words fell from somewhere, which seemed was not my own mouth. Who was I?

I had a false sense of power that did not come from a high position role, but was only given to me because no one else wanted to do it. In that sense I was a bitch. I was the company’s bitch and because no one else wanted to own up to their decisions, it was my job to make sure it got done.

Emotionally things got worse over time.

Early last year when the economy really started to decline, I started reviewing overqualified resumes. I got people who had college degrees, years of experience in managerial positions, people who were pushed out of their previous jobs because of a declining economy and downsizing. I’d look at them and think, “Why would you want to work in a production floor for a 5th of what you used to make?”

The answer is clear, they wanted to eat and they wanted their family to eat. Just like I want to eat, and just like I sucked it up and did what I needed to do to provide for my bills. I should have known that soon enough, even my role was not indomitable to our nation’s waning economy.

Companies always make you feel like you are part of them, like your job is completely secure and that you would never see that sort of wrath. This is especially true in HR. So when I got laid off in January 09, this immediately came as a shock to me. I always knew who would be laid off at our company, and now I was on the other end of the spectrum.

During my exit interview their reasoning felt unjustified. It felt like I was being told, “We don’t have to do this, but we are, just in case.”

It was humiliating. This is the same humiliation I felt when employees asked me why they had lost their jobs only weeks before approached me. Even though they had assured me that this was completely a business decision and it had nothing to do with my performance as an employee, I still felt like my job wasn’t important enough to keep. In the internet economy, it’s a dog eat dog business as any other and I should have known that even HR is not invincible.

So here I am now, with no job, but I still continue to go school fulltime. I have no family support and at a young age, am a very independent person.

Even though I have an added burden on my chest, as far as how my bills will get paid, I also feel a huge load has been taken off of my shoulders. I have never been able to do anything I ever wanted to do or considered doing because my job had tied me down. I needed that job. Mostly because I needed the car I drive to get to my job, and in order to keep the car I had, to keep the job I had, I need to work to pay for it. I sold my life to that car, and it was a huge robotic cycle.

If that formation was interrupted I always felt I would experience dire repercussions.

Only, now I’m at that point, and to be honest, I feel fine. In fact, I feel like now is a better time than any to change the route I’m traveling.

Now is my time to start a new chapter and take advantage of the blessing in disguise I’m given. I have always known that I did not want this job; I just never had the courage to do anything about it. Luckily, someone else did it for me. ◊

By Lisa Madrid Illo by Fransico Garcia

J

ust a few months after graduating college, our nation’s econ- school, working, and volunteering at the same time. omy hit the rocks. In the preparation of a new job, our state As time continued to pass by, I finally heard back from the city, and was incapable of passing their budget. Just as many others, our state still had not passed their budget. The city had good news I found myself in the midst of a terrible crisis that would soon and this is where I became the least bit hopeful. A local library had a lead to complete devastation to the working world. Soon the work- position open so I jumped on it. After a tedious process, I was finally ing class would become jobless and the jobseekers would become hired and began working. The state had still not yet passed their buddesperate and discouraged. And here I was, fresh of the college boat get at this time, but continued processing the credentials I needed. forced into the downfall of our economy on Not to mention, in the middle of all this I managed the struggle to find work in a new city. to pick up a part-time job at a retail store.

While I was preparing for my hopeful new job, And here I was, fresh of Months later, I was finally working not one, but our state was already behind on passing their the college boat forced three jobs. I found myself strategizing my jobs in budget. Since I wanted to become a substiorder to survive through our developing recestute teacher, I had to go through the state in into the downfall of our sion. Since I now work for two school districts, I order to have a credential issued. With great economy on the struggle make sure I work enough days at one district to discouragement, processing times were not living expenses. My library job covers my to find work in a new city. cover only frozen but behind a few months. Here I car payment, maintenance, and gas. And my job was beginning to become discouraged that it at the retail store gives me one heck of a discount just may be a long wait until I might see a first day of work. Neverthe- on clothes. Last but not least the other school district brings me in less, my application was sent off and my hold time was unknown. some profit. Everyone has their own way of hustling through this In the meanwhile there were some job openings through the city for economy, and this is mine. It can be very tiring at times and requires tutors. With a significant background of being a tutor, this was a great a full nights rest. I need a great amount of energy in order to make opportunity for me. I jumped on it right away and submitted my appli- it through the day. Working with a different group of children and cation. About a month went by and I had heard nothing back. During customers on a daily basis can be mind bobbling. Working with difthis time, our economy continued to crumble and layoffs were barely ferent attitudes and meeting the demand for thriving energy for each beginning. At this time, an ideal job for me became hopeless. job can be draining. Maintaining expectations and performing duties

In the midst of my job preparation I was confused about what can be exhausting. Not to mention, managing time can be difficult.

I would do next. I really didn’t have much of a backup plan so I de- Despite these draining aspects, I enjoy what I do. Being able to help cided to wait it out a little bit. Since I just graduated college, a little and teach young children is a valuable feeling. I know that I have break didn’t seem to be such a bad idea. Well, the break didn’t go made a positive impact and I am grateful to be working and doing well for me, I felt like I needed to do more. I was used to going to something I enjoy in a time so difficult. siliconvalleydebug.com Summer 09

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takes advantage of everyday people and uses their cars as leverage, in the sense that they know that people needs to get around and would rather pay up rather than be with out a car.

Cars serve as such an important part of our lives; we depend on

By Adrian Avila // Illo by Mark Respicio them to get to work, take the kids to school and are the oil that keeps feel the vibration in my pocket that lets me know my phone is our lives in motion. And to think that some guy with a tow truck can going off. It’s my mother and the first thing I hear is “Adrian, they come and take your car and disrupt that smooth flow that is your life took the car!” in a very worrisome voice. The words send a cold is mind-boggling to me.

After finding out that her car was not “stolen” in the traditional chill down my spine. This conversation is very familiar to me be- cause it was not the first time that our car had be taken, and I am sense but in the legal towing sense, she managed to get a ride to their location right away, which meant that the sure it won’t be the last.

Once again we had fallen victims to the We all know who they are; car had not been in their position for no more tow truck thieves. We all know who they are; they creep around apart- than an hour. Never-the-less the tow truck company felt that a $205 bill was a justified amount they creep around apartment complexes and parking lots alike -- faceless criminals that ment complexes and park- for her to pay, $150 towing fee and some kind operate under the law and hide under a busi- ing lots alike -- faceless of gate fee, and clearly made up charges to get more money, like the-sun-is-out-fee. ness name. Think about it, who else can come Most people don’t debate that their car by your house pick up your property haul it criminals that operate un- off to some grimy gated location, not tell you der the law and hide under was towed illegally; they just don’t understand how and why the prices have to be so high – about it and then to top it off won’t return your a business name. reaching the upper $300 and sometimes more. property until you pay them some out of this With the current economy crisis that we have on our hands, we world price? The tow man can. The tow truck man and his trusty tow don’t have the luxury to be letting go of hundreds of dollars for some truck.

After coming home from work at around 4 o’clock in the after- guy to come take your car, and not to mention all of the time that is noon my mom pulled into her apartment complex and parked in her wasted in the process -- miss work one day and bam you lose your usual spot. She had forgotten her parking permit that usually sits on job.

And despite the recession, all indicators pointing to the tow intop her dashboard up in her apartment so she went up to get it.

When in the house she ended up taking a phone call that lasted no dustry doing just fine, even growing by some accounts. more than 10 minutes. After the phone call she headed downstairs When all was said and done, my mom got her car back, but still feels to put the permit on the car, but to her surprise there was no car for like there should be some kind of price control on the towing industry her to put the permit on, and as easy as that, her 2004 white Toyota in order to protect people from being taking for their last dollar.

There are a few way that people can protect themselves from that she worked so hard for had vanished.

At first she really thought that car thieves had taken her car being victims, such as reporting any shady deals to the Better Busibecause there was no possible way that a tow truck company had ness Bureau, as well as website like Yelp. Also something as simple come and taken her car within 15 minutes. In fact she thought that as thinking twice about where you park, even in your own complex, was losing it, and maybe she parked the car in another parking spot, you never know when the next tow truck thieve will strike. ◊ but a short trip to the apartment management office informed her that her car had been taken by the East Side San Jose’s infamous Rebello’s Towing Service.

With a Yelp review of one sad little star, Rebello’s Towing Service has gotten a reputation of being an overpriced company that

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By Martin Castillo

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ith the housing crisis, a lot of people are being forced tomer service representatives, it was heaven because we were paid to move. And the last thing a lot of people worry about minimum wage and commission. When the customer was given their is getting scammed by their moving company. But be- bill at their new address and they refused to pay because of the ware, some companies out there are out to steal your outrageous amount, the movers would haul there stuff away and put money. I worked for a short period of time with a moving company. it into their own storage and add extra charges to the total amount. It I know, I worked for one of these moving companies that was pur- would be $95 for storage $90 for the month which you did not want posefully deceiving families all the time. in the first place and $75 for loading your stuff from the truck to the

Where I worked, we would offer our services to people looking storage unit. Charges like these would just keep piling up because to move – and targeted senior citizens. I was given and rehearsed a the movers were paid by move and by commission on the boxes that dialog which I was supposed to say to a potential Beware, some compa- they use. This would make the movers want to customers. I was told to make the service sound re-package most of the things. really great, and that they should be grateful that nies out there are intent to Most senior citizens that were our coswe would help them with there move. I got pretty steal your money. I know, tumers, had no family around to help them good at it too. I would offer them use of our movmove and relied on their social security to get ing blankets, mattress covers, wardrobe boxes, I worked for one of these by. This company would just rob them blind at disassembly and reassembly from the old house moving companies that the most vulnerable moment of their lives. On to the new house. I would also offer movers, 2-4 occasion an older lady who was moving was purposefully deceiv- one man crews, with a minimum usually of $95 per from California to New York was surprised with hour with a 3 hour minimum. We would provide ing families all the time. these charges. She did not have the money to the customer with a quote which would be around pay because she had not gotten her Social Se$285 to $300. If the customer wanted to use our services we were curity check. The moving company ended up holding her stuff hosonly allowed to let them know that their possessions should be prop- tage. This old lady had nothing and lived alone. This company didn’t erly packaged. care if she had a bed and covers to sleep in at night. It took her a

All sounds like a pretty reasonable deal, particularly if you are month to get her stuff back. in a bind, need to move fast, or don’t have people who can help you.

As customer service representatives, we would be given fake But overtime, costumers learned they got gamed. names, and were not allowed to used our real names. If a customer

Take the packaging for example. Most people think “properly ever wanted to talk to one of us after get done dirty, we were not packaged” means putting your stuff in a box and make sure it’s con- allowed to speak to them. We had to pass the phone call to our tents won’t fall out. But according to the company, it means do it how dispatcher who was the rudest person in the building. The response we want it or they will package it for you. Even that sounds nice, until to most of the complaints was, “You signed the contract, we can do you see the bill. Our company would charge $15 for a medium size whatever we want!” box that would cost you 89 cents at Orchard’s Supply. Also, since I ended up quitting because I could no longer be part of somepeople are moving their whole lives from home to home, imagine thing like that. I would suggest that if you are ever looking to move, how many boxes that can become, and the cost skyrockets. And the grab a couple of friends ask them to help you. Have a good time and company doesn’t tell you how much the box cost you until your stuff buy the people you care about some lunch. ◊ is on the moving truck. I heard about and saw moves which were suppose to cost $300 or $400 end up costing $1,500 to $2,000. I personally did not agree with this, but I needed a job.

This situation was horrible for the customer, but for us, the cussiliconvalleydebug.com Summer 09

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MARIA CASTILLO A mother and a grandmother, Maria Castillo was beat by San Jose police that caused her to have her two front teeth knocked out, a deep cut on the lip, bruises on the right shoulder, a scuff on the knee and a scar above her right breast. Charged with resisting arrest and assault on an officer, she was forced to take a plea or serve a longer sentence without anyone to care for her 17 year old son. She sits here with her daughter, unafraid to speak out.

By Charisse Domingo

“I’m in jail too,” Ora Johnson’s voice shakes, speaking of her son Jambri who was sentenced to 107 years in prison. Her story is multiplied by the thousands, and shared by mothers, sisters, brothers, fathers, who share in the struggle of fighting the injustice of California’s criminal justice system. Frame by frame, this photo essay brings out the pain, fight, struggle, and strength of the families who actively fight for their loved ones in the system. ◊ LUA FAMILY Richard Lua, 26 years old, was tased and killed by San Jose Police officers on Wednesday, February 11, 2009.

The family held a vigil at the Hank Lopez Community Center to remember Richard.

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ANABEL When Anabel saw her son being beat and punched by San Jose police in her own home, the first thing she did was “hugged him and draped his body over him so the officer would not hit him anymore.” But instead of stopping, another San Jose police punched her in the mouth and continued to hit her son until she begged them to stop.

REBECCA RIVERA A second before she steps to the podium at her first press conference, Rebecca’s mom holds her and says a prayer.

GAIL NOBLE Gail Noble fought for her son, Karim, who was facing a felony strike within the Santa Clara County juvenile justice system. Sitting in his room filled with football trophies and posters, she takes a break from making a home-cooked meal which she gets to take to him this day at the ranch.

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THE TITLE NEEDS TO HAVE LITERALLY UP

By Miguel Suarez // Photo by TIBURON!F!!B!

I

t was around the summer of 2001, after being in the US for a short period of time that I discovered the construction industry.

I learned from the beginning that it is very different that the one in Mexico, from the way that houses are built to the salary that workers get paid.

Every trade or job has ethics and rules to follow, but over time they become obsolete and very unfair in my opinion, because individuals see their occupation as a job and not a career. A lot of construction workers labor under the unions, some others for big companies and the rest are independent contractors. The common thing between us is that the majority of us don’t control our own time or our salary. When I reached a point in my life when I realized this, I made the decision to start my own company.

I was in the 12th grade when I came up with the idea, and I was almost done with school and planning to go to a university to become a lawyer. My low income status didn’t interfere with my dream of becoming my own boss, and even though people didn’t see me as a company owner when I approached them to offer my work, I was not really stressing about it, even although I didn’t have tools, a vehicle, or workers. I was very optimistic and inside in my heart I knew that I was on the right track.

All I needed was to get a job as a starting point. After having a conversation with my J.R.O.T.C teacher, he mentioned that he wanted to do some tile work in his condo. This was the moment that I was waiting for. I had to decide quickly what was going to be my decision; should I just pass this opportunity to my uncle who worked in construction or taking my first job independently? My decision was made; I took the job, so now I just had to figure out how I was going to pull it off. My teacher asked me when I wanted to start working on the project. That Tuesday I told him that I was planning to start working on it during the weekend. I came up with a plan to make it happen; I had three days to get the tools, find a ride, and decide how I was going to charge him. I needed help and my friend Andres partnered with me. Andres and I had similar necessities and dreams, and we also had no idea of how to work in construction.

While getting ready, Andres told me that he was going to be able to help me out here and there, because he had a part-time job at McDonald’s. We both were 18 at the time, only had a couple of weeks to go in order to finish high school and we had our first job lined up, it was very exiting. The plan was to demolish first and to ask for 25% of the pay. We got the money and then went to the store to get a machine to cut the tile and then got the rest of the material that we needed to finish the job. Andres and I finished the project fast and just how we had planned it. With the money that we got, we had enough to pay the expenses of enrolling in a community college. We

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kept working and going to school together for a whole semester, but Andres couldn’t keep going because he had bigger responsibilities in the way.

At that point everything was on the air and I met a classmate who until this day is one of my closest pals and business partner, he is Russian and the way that we became friends was through conversations about Communism. We had endless conversations about it, sometimes talks got very intense, because he never totally admitted that he was a Communist. I was not a Communist, but I was not against it. I remember too that in more then one occasion I told him that I hated capitalism and that I was not a capitalist. In our talks, it came up that I had a business but that I was the only employee. He showed interest and suggested getting a loan in order to buy more equipment and to be able to hire more people to work with us. His interest grew and after a lot of discussions we came to the conclusion that we needed to do something with our complex convictions and our ideologies so we started working on a plan fitted with better values, morals, and principles than the traditional companies. The next step was to come up with a name.

We decided on the name “Rumec Tile Works.” We had it for more then three years in which I obtained a better vision of the industry, completing many jobs, then my partner left to Russia and I stayed in charge of Rumec.

Although I had the experience of years being a worker and an administrator and everything that had to do with the responsibility of running a construction company, it collapsed after a while because I was not very wise on the finances. I became aware of a new world full of corporate monopolies, city regulations, and mountains of legal paperwork. It took me a while to assimilate to all this and to figure out that the enemy of the worker was bigger then what I thought. The way the process is setup to take advantage of the workers through buying labor at the lowest possible cost, and using them as disposable labor.

This motivated us to take action, so that’s why Rumec has taken the initiative of forming meetings to brainstorm on improving conditions and making people conscious of how they are being taken advantage of. Such meetings gave fruit to a full blown corporation that cares about the dignity of the worker more than profits. Rumec is now a movement based on workers, architects and independent contractors formally working together. We are heading to educate workers on all the power that we bare together

At this point Rumec is comprised of an Architect, Surveyor, Interior Designers, Sales Agents, Legal Advisors, an Accountant, as well as construction crews for commercial and residential jobs. Recent projects include local restaurants, designing and constructing a gas station and development of an orphanage in Afghanistan, as well as building homes from the ground up. We are proud to know a lot of our clients are also independent business owners that believe in our movement and are aware of our vision, work ethic and our politics. ◊

My low income status didn’t interfere with my dream of becoming my own boss, even although I didn’t have tools, a vehicle, or workers.

Summer 09 siliconvalleydebug.com

By Marcos Reyes // Photo by

W

alked out of my house the other the other day and went to the recycled books store. I had gathered all the books that I could get rid of off my bookshelf. I did not want to part with some of them. I looked into my wallet and I still had a twenty in there, I had been keeping it for the longest time, about two weeks.

“ The economy is bad, and it’s going to get worse”, I hear people say. Everywhere I can see the signs, I haven’t gotten a job for the past 3 to 4 months. It’s strange that everything seemed to be going well up to the time I got laid off.

I had started college and was passing with good grades, but one day to the next everything started going down hill, I guess not just for me, but for everyone. Through those month’s I relied on my savings that since that time have vanished.

I gather my bag of books, ones that have shaped ad influenced me in my life and thought I would always have if I had anything, and rode the bus downtown. My education, and my collection of literature is vanishing. I have to cut down on classes to be able to pay for them.

I am sure people around the country have lost more, they might be living in the streets since the crisis hit us all.

Sometimes I would laugh about how people’s greed would consume them. That the fall of civilization could be heard a mile away, but it’s nothing to laugh about. Ever since then I can see how everything has changed, for me too, a cautious person.

When I had a job, I worked as a construction worker. I worked even when I was sick, I was scared of losing money, losing my job.

And then I was scared of not finding work.

I have worked through out the Bay Area, for large property owners with abandoned buildings. When we left them they looked like brand new office buildings ready for desks and cubicles. I remember the day before Merrill Lynch crashed we had gone all the way to Stockton to patch up the ceiling in one of their buildings. We had been hoping it would have been large but the three hour job was worth less than the long ride.

I have to go to school everyday, and I have given up in getting a

car. The day I went to the bookstore, I realized it was the beginning of the month and did not have any money to buy the month pass.

I walked out into the street, scavenged for some quarters and paid my fair. I stared out the window, I saw the stores were empty, I watched people inside the bus filling up the seats, I knew why they were there, it was mid day and they were riding the bus. They were like me, they had lost their jobs too.

Santa Clara seemed like a dried up desert to me.

I waited for my books to be added up. Before I would have not thought twice to buy two or three books and walked home reading.

Now I wait to get some of my money back.

The guy at the register says, “ It’s 16 dollars, or 20 dollars in store credit.”

I couldn’t believe what had happened to me, I had spent my entire morning picking out the books I wanted to part with, and I could only get 16 dollars. Some of those books were new and its pages were still unturned. I walked out with the cash in my hand, I thought that all this was a waste of time, trying to sell old books for a chunk of change was not going to help me.

I hardly spend any money, and contemplate more about my future. When I was working I could hardly think. I was like a robot. Now that I can no longer use my muscles, now that all the builders have sunk with the real estate market, I have to use something else, my brain.

I walked to the bus stop, upset at myself, upset at the economy, but with the ray of hope that things will get better. My classes finally paid and adding my money up I managed to get a month pass. I feel at ease riding the bus towards school, it makes me feel I’m doing something, like I’m going somewhere. ◊

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adrid

By David M

I

n the age of satellite radio, ipods and mp3 downloads, it’s almost hard to believe there’s still folks that long for the touch and crackling sound of spinning vinyl. That’s right; with a current generation that can’t even conceive the use of a walk man, there’s a steady growing movement of classic soul record collectors here in the Bay Area.

American funk and classic soul by far is one of the most loved and popular genres of music to be collected worldwide crossing generations, borders and all color lines. I myself am a soul lover and host of a radio show by the name of San Jo Soul on 91.5 fm KKUP. (Bay Area/Central Coast) My show specializes in rare classic soul and serves as an outlet for Bay Area collectors to showcase their music.

I was able to catch up with San Jo native Art Cordova a.k.a.

“The Duke of Soul”. The Duke has been collecting for about 15 years now, not bad for a 32 year old. Although considered young by most in the game, his deep love and extensive knowledge for the music has earned him the “Duke” title and much respect from older and serious collectors nation wide. World known collector Tommy Siqueiro gives the Duke his props, stating that within a short amount of time he has already passed up many seasoned collectors that have been in the game twice as long.

The Duke got started collecting back in his teens, like many young Chicanos he grew up listening to oldies. But it wasn’t till he heard the jam “Gotta try to get you back” by Mike Kirkland that inspired him to look beyond the common stuff and start digging deeper.

“I was intrigued by the rawness and depth of that song, ” says Duke.

He wasn’t satisfied with a C.D. copy he wanted to see the original record spin.

“Soul music comes straight from the heart”, explains Duke. It’s the melodies and lyrics the pleasure and pain that is captured on that little 7inch record that gets people hooked. Collectors could spend any where from fifty to a few hundred bucks on a single piece of vinyl serious collectors could drop thousands. “It’s not about the money,” says Duke “It’s about the individuals connection to that Rola (song).”

Collectors could spend years searching for a particular record, and coming across it could happen once in a lifetime. So if it turns up you better not sleep on it.

Soul collectors all tend to have their own style and flavor. Some seek the slow paced ballard’s and group soul harmonies known as “tearjerkers” and others prefer the up-tempo Northern Soul sound known as “movers and groovers”.

There are also different eras and national regions that have their own distinctive sound, like Philadelphia, Detroit and even Ohio for example. The Duke say’s that we are fortunate to be in the Bay Area because it’s one of the most musically sought after regions in the world.

“We had some of the baddest groups come out of the Bay” says Duke, like the E.14th St. Band, The Fuller Brothers, Jesse James and The San Francisco T.K.O’s to name a few.

I asked the Duke what makes a good collector? He says it’s all

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about being educated in the music, knowing artist, dates and record labels are the fundamentals. Good collectors are constantly studying their soul bibles (Record catalogs) knowing what’s out there along with its value and how to hunt for it. The Duke’s gone far as contacting the family of old band members while on the hunt for records.

Having the knowledge is one thing but knowing what to do with it is the key.

Being connected to the web is also crucial for any soul seeker, “The scene has gone from hitting the local record shops to hitting the Internet” explains Duke. Competing for bids on sites like E-Bay are now commonplace for collectors, it’s now a globally connected community. Duke laughs, “Them boy’s out in England swooped up on all our soul” stating that the collectors from the U.K currently have some of the most rare soul 45’s in existence, and with contacts made on the web he is now able to track them down.

And currently because of the bad economy it’s an exciting time to be on the record hunt says Duke, ”Theirs a lot of big collectors right now hurting for cash.” And as a result there’s a lot of exclusive 45’s starting to pop up on the scene. On top of that there’s also an underground soul movement in full swing right now making it interesting. Contemporary soul artist like “Lee Fields” and musical groups such as the “Kings go Fourth” are recording new music in true tradition of the 60’s soul era. I’m talking deep lyrics, live instruments and recording on analog tapes, they’re even pressing up their singles out on vinyl.

Over all, The Duke of Soul is a humble and modest homeboy with straight passion for that sweet soul sound. And although he posse’s a soul collection any heavy collector would kill for, he would never claim to have them all. “There’s just so much music out there,” claims Duke, and for that reason he will continue to stay on the hunt. ◊

My grandpas face is worn

By Marcos J. Reyes // Photo by G.Melesaine

Brown turning dark with wrinkles Like the cracks on a tree His steps are slow And his eyes look tired He was once young Like me like us He sang in Mexican streets to the women he loved A black smoking suit Shoes polished and shined A thin mustache pressed over his lip A shadow cast in the night He held knife fights in alleys Raised his cup to his friends Danced Mambo, Danzones and jazz The old man is aging but he will not go down His stare was like mine Like a leopard Waiting for its prey Dark almost black Under thick brows Now his gaze drips down Looking sad His brow is gray And his eyes are wrapped around wrinkles Sometimes he drowns out his sorrow Vodka Tequila Mezcal He sings out to his youth To the bohemio he was Nothing new under the sun Tragic love Passing youth The wild The young The damned I was like you He says when he’s drunk I thought the world was mine That I could tame it with my hands Sometimes he drinks till the morning Crying and singing old songs We watch the light creep over the world His tears start to dry The new day is coming Men are fools thinking they can outlive the world He whispers into the light He stares into me Pointing old fingers into my eyes Staring off into the horizon Nothing new has risen under the sun Tragic love Passing youth We the wild We the young We the Damned.

SV De-Bug (dee • buhg) is a collective of writers, artists, organizers, and workers based in San Jose, California.

De-Bug started in the Spring of 2000 by reporting on the hidden experiences of working people who were employed as low-wage temporary workers. As we grew as a collective we began exploring all of the issues of our community - in the workplace, schools, streets, relationships, and everything else.

De-Bug is about allowing everybody to tell the stories of their lives, and their opinions on the world, both near and far. We operate by the principle that experience is the ultimate authority.

In this way, we are creating a platform for otherwise unheard stories to be communicated to eachother and the world around us.

We use our bi-lingual magazine, website, weekly TV show and weekly radio show to get these stories out to the greater public.

For more information e-mail us:

svdebug@newamericamedia.org or stop by our center M-F 10-6pm: 701 Lenzen Ave. San Jose, CA 95126

Keep up with us on our daily updated website.

Stories, Photos, Comics, Videos & more

siliconvalleydebug.com Summer 09

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By FitzQuinn // Illo by El Don Juan

“Y

ou have talked so often of going to the dogs--and well, here are the dogs, and you have reached them, and you can stand it. It takes off a lot of anxiety.”

That was George Orwell in Down and Out in Paris and London – read that if you think things are tough now. But being homeless does challenge your assumptions … come on, you do suppose certain things about the “street people.” After my mere two months in that category, let me share some thoughts from someone who did have a very middle-class upbringing and ‘ran off the rails’, as the English say.

The homeless don’t get the jobs that are reserved for pretty people with good clothes. Aside from that, they are suffering from any combination of: bad luck, bad teeth, bad attitude, criminal record, substance or mental problems, other disabilities … but whatever you assume about one person is liable to be wrong.

Once with my son, we rolled past some street friend of his and he yelled in a terrible voice: “BUM !” Sure, we laughed till we cried.

None of us is laughing anymore. I didn’t see the writing on the wall, even as the temp work in my field was flying away to India or God knows where. Finally I couldn’t even pay $475 a month for my space and I said, “All righty then. Luckily I have a camper to live in.”

You read lately that a lot more “clean-shaven homeless” are looking for services – they borrowed too much against their vacation home, they got beat on their mortgage, they got canned after many years of faithful service, it used to be an amazing thing when big companies and private institutions went out of business, but not any more.

There are problems you didn’t anticipate when you become homeless like: Where to go if you needed an actual toilet in the next hour? Or ten minutes at that. How to charge your phone if you don’t have a nickel in your pocket and the libraries are closed? (Hint: the large hotels downtown, if you’re sly and can blend in).

Yes, killing time is easier when you’ve got funds, for sure. You start out thinking of what things you must keep with you, carry that bag everywhere you go … extra checkbooks? Oh my, what if my ID gets ripped off? You realize, though, that any one thing could be either somewhere safe or you won’t die without it (sleeping bag a possible exception).

In the old hobo days, the one thing you dared not lose was your

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spoon. Imagine whole countries where there’s none of that -- welfare, unemployment insurance, food stamps.

Shelters do exist, and they don’t even seem over run. Showers?

Free meals? It’s all out there, you just have to find it. Emergency Housing Consortium, Boccardo Center, the Salvation Army, InnVision – good places to look in on. You can get three meals a day, seven days a week if you can get around. Get used to walking.

Sleeping at the shelter is its own issue. There’s a lot of regimentation, sure – standing in lines for everything, but you will almost always get a bunk or a mat on the floor, a blanket, sheet and towel, dinner and breakfast of some sort. If you have any experience of jail, you’ll say “This isn’t so bad.” But you’ve never heard such snoring in your life.

And also, don’t camp by the river unless you can scare people off, or in St. James Park (at night anyway), and if your clothes are clean you can look like half the people who are vacationing here. The economy could get a great deal worse, they say, and ecosystems are collapsing, and the big earthquake could be any day. Happy days may be here again eventually, but, it might be time to brush up your survival skills. ◊ Food//Shelter//Showers Emergency Housing Consortium: 2011 Little Orchard St., San Jose 294-2100 // 686-1300 for families Sign up for “Continuum of Care” Card -- also good at Sacred Heart, InnVision (If its your first time, get there well before 3:30 pm ) (Men’s location)405 N. 4 th St., San Jose // 282-1175 Showers: 10-11 am Mon-Sat sporadic Beds (14, as available) lineup at 1:30 pm Lunch Mon-Fri 12:15 pm Dinner: Mon-Sat 5:15 pm InnVision: 358 N. Montgomery St. // 271-5160 Showers (Men) 8-10 am, 2:30-4 pm Breakfast Sat-Sun 6:00 am Lunch: Mon-Sat 1:00 pm Dinner: Daily, 6 pm Shelter Services for Women/Children: 297 Commercial St., San Jose // 453-3124 San Jose Family Shelter: 1590 Las Plumas Av. San Jose // 926-8885 GROCERY BOXES: Call Food Connection 800-984-3663 for referrals by Zip Code

eyes a little more to the music video industry and what a fun job/career it could be. After that I decided I wanted to make as many as I could. At the same time I was watching all those palm pictures dvds of the works of Micheal Gondry, Spike Jonze and Chris Cunningham, which were really inspiring. I think no matter who you are you just have to start doing it, more than likely in the low budget range.

By Justin Collins // Photo by Stephanie Nice new powerhouse has hit the scene. Kool Keith has done it again; DOOOM 2. And director Odin Wadleigh has made the cryptic psychedelic hell into a gritty grind-house style masterpiece. For anybody that has been under a rock for the last 10 years Dr.Octagon AKA -- nogatcO rD, Black Elvis Lost in Space, Spank Master, ULTRAMAGNETIC MC’s and Dr. Dooom -- has been leveling the hip hop scene with fiery mindf#ck raps that have become legendary in elite MC circles. And now, as the legacy is still being written, an innovative video director, Odin Wadleigh, has put a new vision to the many faces of Kool “Black Elvis” Keith through the production of a R.I.P Dr. Octagon video.

Odin took some time to share his experience with Silicon Valley De-Bug...

JC- Odin, the video for R.I.P. Dr. Octagon is one of the best videos out there, how did this project come together?

OW- I had a little budget about $500, I wasn’t getting paid, the money just went to the bare essentials. I got a lot of free stuff. Shot it on HDV. As far as crew goes, just two of my friends as assistants, oh yeah, and one day I did have a guy come out and shoot b roll -slow motion stuff with his hvx 200. Keith and Kurt said they wanted the video to be a sort of cross between the Blair Witch project and the Beastie Boys Sabotage video. I took it from there. I wanted to capture the feeling of a 70’s Horror film trailer, something that was sort of disjointed, not totally linear. If there is a story it does involve Keith and Kurt sort of pursuing Dr. Octagon through the woods, then Keith later disposing of the body. Glad you dig it.

JC-I can dig it. How could up and coming artists go about making a legit video?

OW-As far as tricks of trade and technical details concerning the video goes; I shot it on 720p HDV (I have a JVC GYHD110U), I then added an aged film filter in final cut pro to give it that funky film projection qual-

ity. We shot the hospital scenes at Cedar Sinai hospital, which was totally awesome. A friend of a friend got us in there for free. We shot those scenes on Easter Sunday 2008.

The fake blood was made up of karo syrup, non-dairy creamer and red food coloring, supposedly the same recipe used on the evil dead films. For the Dr Octagon costume I put some LED lights gelled green over my friend Tim’s eyes and stuck an afro wig on him. We shot that in a friends garage, with one light as back light and a smoke machine. That was shot months apart from the stuff of keith following in the woods with the green light.

I shot the video in April and didn’t actually finish the edit until late July. I got to spend a lot of time editing the video, which was great, going back and forth trying different approaches. We actually shot a whole other night of driving around Hollywood with Kurt and Keith, but it didn’t really fit, so all that footage got turned into another video: “Take that Ride”. Keith is awesome, he brings a lot to the table. you won’t get a 12 hours shoot day out of him though, more like 3-4 hours.

He definitely has a very freestyle approach to everything. It’s good to have a wide angle lens with him and not give him a lot of marks and restrictions when it comes to the shot.

JC-Ok cool, You have a distinctive look to your work. What kind of cinema shaped your vision, what really influenced you?

OW-My favorite films: A Clockwork Orange, Apocalypse Now, Natural Born Killers, The Shining, Boogie Nights, Taxi Driver, Sexy Beast.

JC-Yeah those are some of the greats. How did you move from being in Film School at Academy of Art to working in the music industry?

OW- I always dug watching music videos growing up. In 2004, I took a music video class in college, they forced us to go out and make a video. That sort of opened my

JC-Great, so as an artist what is your ultimate direction? Where do you want to go as a filmmaker?

OW- I’d like to branch off into other genres of music videos, I still haven’t done a rock video. I’d like a chance to work with some larger budgets. It would be great to be able to make money creating more abstract pieces; experimental pieces. I guess that sort of content just needs a home or outlet. I’d also eventually like to do some writing and make one good feature film. As long as I’m able to keep exploring different ideas, techniques and styles thru moving images, I’ll be content.

JC-Word, how do you see yourself in 5 years? Any dream collaborations?

OW- Dream Collaborations: maybe do a video for tom waits. Collaborating with Philip Glass on some sort of motion picture would be awesome. I usually shoot and direct myself, but it would be nice to only direct and collaborate with some amazing cinematographers like Harris Savides, Robert Richardson or Christopher Doyle.

JC-What kind of musical influences shaped your vision as a film-maker?

OW- My musical influences are little bit of everything, Nirvana, Beastie Boys, Beethoven, Cut Chemist, Kool Keith, Nine inch Nails, Philip Glass, Jimi Hendrix, Madlib, The Beatles...

JC-Do I still talk to keith?

OW-Yes. I shot another music video for him a couple months ago. I finished the editing recently, we haven’t even put it up on the internet yet. It’s more of a cliche typical rap video with girls in bikinis. the song also has dennis deft on it. The beat is by keith himself, it’s called “shopping at the mall”. Supposedly we might do some more videos when he comes to L.A. to again.

JC-What are your views on the world?

OW-I think it’s fundamentally flawed. There is lots of striving for power and resources, lots of misunderstanding and miscommunication. I do believe in growth and change. I do love people. ◊ Check out more of Odin Wadliegh’s films, photos and work at:

www.odinwadleigh.com

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Photos by Jesus Medina

W

ith this photo essay I wanted to create awareness on the issues affecting AB 540 students. These students are the one wanting to go to college; these students are the ones who work hard and want to create a better life for themselves and their families. These students bear the hopes and dreams of their parents who come to this country in search of a better life.

Their only fault is not being born in the United States.

As an AB 540 student, you have no government financial aid and can only apply to certain scholarships which makes going to college seem unattainable. A lot of student loans have exorbitantly high interest rates and require immediate payment while going to school.

For students who are working class and undocumented, the climb seems steeper, and sometimes, the choice to work becomes an easier one, despite the fact that you worked through high school with the dream to get to college.

In these photos, I hoped to capture the anger and uncertainty of the path of AB 540 students. The students I chose to photograph are recent high school graduates who are in the process of attending college. Through their hard work and struggles, they succeeded and are on the path towards achieving their goals. â—Š

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I

By Community Service Queen // Illo by Jose Martinez

t all started out at the mall and was the easiest and the cheapest too. Anything I wanted, I could have.

And it can be really fun thing to walk out of a store with whatever I wanted.

My friend (we’ll call “Veronica” for this article is one of the closest friends I’ve ever had. She lives right next door to me for nine years now. We got so close over the years that we even started to call each other cousins. After everything we’ve been through together, this chick is more like family. We did everything together, even getting in trouble. Turns out that easy and cheap and fun thing – stealing – can get you in some trouble.

Our run in with the law happened at Target. I bet your thinking, “Why would you steal at Target?” Believe me, there’s plenty

GJHGJHGJHGHGHNHHGHGVJVGHVFGHVFGHFHGVFGFGFGNGNGNGHFGHVJHGJHVGHGHVGMB

to take from there. Living so close made it so easy to just go over, walk in and take whatever we wanted. After a couple of months, we started getting better and more sneaky with stealing.

Any way that could have got us caught, we beat it every single time. One day after school, Veronica hit me up and said “Let’s go to the spot, I need some stuff.”

She bought her friend so I was thinking it would be twice as fun. One of our new strategies was taking Target bags from my house. My mom went shopping there a lot so she always had Target bags in the kitchen. We each took three bags and stuffed them in our purses. Another idea of ours was getting extra big purses so we could fit more without making it obvious. Big purses were in style anyways. We walked to Target and just grabbed a cart. I liked the idea of picking out anything and throwing it in the cart without worrying about a price tag.

We went down the make up and perfume aisle, and I started getting a little nervous because the main places to get caught are make up, perfume, and electronics. I never try to do anything sneaky around there because I wasn’t trying to get caught up.

After we got everything we needed, we went down an aisle where there were no costumers. Two of us went at each end of the aisles, and kept watch. The third person took out the bags and started putting our stuff in the bags. We started pushing the cart and

went towards the exit. Then. out of nowhere a guy came running faster than I could have imagined was possible and pushed the cart right out of the way and another tall guy came and grabbed the three of us. We were going to try to book it, but it all happened too fast and we got blocked in.

They took us into this room and handcuffed us.

We stole stuff that came out to over three hundred dollars. So right away they were going to give us a felony. There was just a rent a cop in the room and some undercover guy who saw us.

Then the cops came. I like to wear my sunglasses, so I was just wearing them on my head. Since I was handcuffed to the bench, whenever I moved my head my sunglasses would go lower. Eventually, they just landed on my nose and I was wearing them. As soon as the cop came in he spotted me out and walked towards me.

I’m a pretty calm and laid back chick but I can get an attitude sometimes and that’s what gets me into more trouble. He looked at me and yanked my glasses right off my face. I got pissed off so I gave him a dirty look and we just started going at it. He kept blabbing, saying that he’ll put me in jail for that “little attitude” and I just tried to hold it all in.

Finally, my mom came and picked up me and my cousin. After a few months passed, and I didn’t see my cousin as much. I also didn’t steal anything. I went to a meeting and they said I wasn’t getting a felony but I got stuck with probation and 50 hours of community service.

My probation is only for six months, I can’t smoke, I can’t drink, I’m stuck with curfew, and I gotta do a whole bunch of community service hours. Being on probation isn’t the most fun thing. I have to be careful when I hang out with friends so I don’t get caught up again, I had to go to awareness classes and have my probation officer check up on me at school every month, which is embarrassing. But I’ll be off p r o - bation next month.

I didn’t ever picture myself being on probation, especially at the age of fifteen. If I could go back, I would change the way I did stuff, I would change the way I went about things, I would change the way I got so caught up in the five-finger discount. ◊

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T

his summer, the De-Bug Center was bursting at the seams with the next generation of media-makers through our Summer Youth Media Academy. In the program, De-Bug contributors – the same ones who write for our magazine, produce for our television show, or post photos on our website – taught high school and junior age youth in a multitude of media forms. The course list included: black and white photography, street photography, high fashion photography, video-making, music production, silk-screening, make-up, and baking. Through creativity, talent and hard work, these young people produced amazing projects about their lives, dreams and imaginations.

De-Bug got a glimpse into the future of media through working with these youth, and trust us, the media of tomorrow is bright, exciting and full of limitless potential. ◊

Special thanks to the De-Bug Professors: Video: Fernando Julian Perez, Moses Aviles, Angel Luna Music: Chip Lyas Black and White Photography: Charisse Domingo, Isabel Gonzalez Fashion Photography: Tiburon F!B! Street Photography: Jean Melesaine Muralism and Silk-Screening: Adrian Avila, Francisco Garcia, Rolando Burron Baking: Lisa Madrid Make Up: Lola

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This summers YSMA was made possible through the support of the City of San Jose's S.A.F.E. Summer Initiative.

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