The Life and Times of
Kevin Weston Commemorative Edition Saturday June 28, 2014
Obituary
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evin O’Neal Weston
passed away on Sunday June 15, 2014 at his home in Oakland, California, due to complications from a rare form of leukemia. Kevin was born on August 30,1968, to the union of Wilbert and Geraldine Weston at Kaiser Hospital in the Fillmore neighborhood of San Francisco. He was a loving father, husband and son. A widely known Bay Area journalist, activist and thought-leader, he also was a powerful friend, mentor and inspiration to many. In 1992, Kevin was a community college student working for United Parcel Service when he and a fellow student and friend, Malcolm Marshall, started writing for a media enterprise called Pacific News Service. There, he discovered a gift for mentoring and empowering young people to find their strength and their voice. Over the next two decades, Kevin raised a generation of young writers and activists—some from East Oakland, Bay View Hunter’s Point and the Mission who were otherwise ignored or viewed as potential “predators,” others from suburbs like Pittsburg and Union City, where he cofounded a monthly publication for youth called Sprawl. Before meeting Kevin, most of the young people whose lives he changed would not have conceived of themselves as writers whose voices could be widely heard, let alone help shape public opinion. Kevin’s ability to work with young people from all cultural and economic backgrounds was further honed when he left PNS for four years to work as a youth counselor with East Bay Asian Youth Center. He had a profound impact on Pacific News Service and its offshoot New America Media (NAM), where he was an associate editor who helped found YO! Youth Outlook as a raw voice of inner city youth. Insisting on video production as a core part of YO! training, Kevin’s staff began producing video for all of NAM. He also worked with the San Francisco District Attorney’s office to fund a computer lab for youth diverted from jail. YO! then trained youth from that program in expressive arts. The program, “Changing the Odds,” was cited by now California Attorney General Kamala Harris as a signature juvenile justice initiative while she ran the DA’s office in San Francisco.
As a journalist, Kevin’s greatest skill was in discovering the wider context in the anecdote and creating connections that otherwise went unnoticed. Why did Oakland school kids laugh at a showing of Schindler’s List? Having never been taught about the Holocaust, they thought they were watching fiction. Why was the summer intern from West Oakland limping? He had a bullet in his leg from being shot. Kevin created “Got Shot,” profiling a new generation of street survivors who benefitted from an approach in surgery used in the first Gulf War—to leave bullets and shrapnel in rather than dislodge them. When Occupy Wall Street set up its tents in Oakland, Kevin—a Bay Area native, who loved the city he called home—was quick to note the distinction between the protestors and the “other Oakland”, where Black parents were staging their own protests against the shutdown of charter schools. Over a lifetime spent writing about the Black experience, Kevin’s journalism garnered many accolades. Two years ago, he received Stanford’s prestigious Knight Journalism Fellowship. There, he planned to pursue a new challenge, an ambitious plan to train a cadre of young people versed in the digital domain to redefine the Black press, transforming it from serving a market defined by race to one defined by geography. Just a few days before the fellowship began, Kevin was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia called T-PLL. He spent most of the last 20 months fighting the cancer and living each day fully with his loving wife and daughters by his side. This, too, was a chance for Kevin to help others. Together with his wife, Lateefah, Kevin helped launch a successful effort to get over 1,500 African Americans registered as bone marrow donors. His life consisted of specific eras: young firebrand; youth activist; respected mentor; community prophet; and finally, in his last and most precious incarnation, loving husband and father. Kevin was preceded in death by his foster grandparents C.W. Lewis and Viola Blue Lewis, paternal grandparents Wilbert and Sydney Mae Weston, and father Wilbert Weston Jr. He is survived by his wife Lateefah Simon; daughters Lelah and Aminah; mother Geraldine Singleton; brothers Kharon Weston and Joseph Evans; sister Aariane Hopkins; and Aunt Lisa Paschal, as well as a host of other aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews and friends. To honor Kevin’s life, donations to support Kevin’s wife and daughters can be made at: http://www.gofundme.com/1t8q58.
Celebration of Life for Kevin Weston 11:30AM-2:00PM
Drumming Processional Baba Greg Hodge El Fatiha: The Opening Sadat Ahmad Welcome & Blessing of the Remains Pastor Michael McBride Opening Prayer Pastor Donna Battle Opening Prayer in Song Jennifer Johns Reading of the Obituary Slideshow & Song Reflections: Kevin’s Early Years Reflections: High School Remembering Kevin Weston video by Barbara Allen Reflections: Becoming a Writer Reflections: Professional Career as a Newsman Reflections: Fatherhood & Becoming a Family Man Musical Offering from the Youth Legacy Talk Lateefah Simon, Kevin’s wife Words from Kevin’s Doctor Dr. Jed Katzel Acknowledgements & Thank You from the Family Geraldine Singleton, Kevin’s Mother & Aminah Ortiz Simon, Kevin’s Daughter The Send Off: Kevin & Hip Hop The official program will be followed by a repast on site and an opportunity to join the Be The Match marrow registry hosted by the Asian American Donor Program.
“He Gave Me The Room To Develop A Love For Him On My Own.” Aminah Simon Ortiz
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hen I was younger, my mother and I were thick as thieves. I was very overprotective of her, and, being my obnoxious kid-self, vocally possessive. So of course, when I met Kevin, I was pretty analytical. Fully fro-ed and with a large overcoat, Kevin was the embodiment of the Bay; he emanated progressive politics, a good taste in music, and a general sense of obligation to be different. Still, I had my eye out for any fatal flaws: my mom was too fly to be with just anyone. The first thing Kevin said to me was, “Hi Aminah,” in a voice I can only describe as Mickey mouse-like. When my mom asked whether or not I liked him, I told her,“Well, I think his voice is really high.” But after spending some with him, I couldn’t have been more thrilled for my mother. He had politics, community, and culture. He knew how to bring her down when she riled herself up. And most of all, he respected the relationship I had with her, and gave me the room to develop a love for him on my own. It makes me cringe to call him my “stepfather.” The word is too distant, too sterile to describe our relationship. Yes, he married my mom, and I was his daughter by marriage. But we were really good friends. We
got each other’s humor, and had each other’s back whenever my mom got on either of us (which is what moms do, of course). We cracked jokes all the time. Honestly, I saw him as a father, a comrade, and a partner in crime. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s gone. It doesn’t feel right. But his presence is still here, and I am so grateful to him for the love and laughter he brought to my life. And whenever I think of him, which I’m sure will be a lot, I’ll think of the first time we met, when he had his huge fro and the Mickey Mouse voice. That’ll be how I choose to remember him.
Remembering Kevin Weston:
Youth Communicator & New Media Pioneer New America Media Russell Morse
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evin Weston, accomplished journalist and longtime New America Media family member, died Sunday at his home in Oakland after a nearly two-year fight with leukemia. He was 45. From 1999 to 2010, Kevin worked as the organization’s Youth Communications director, but his legacy reaches far beyond that title. Kevin was a teacher, an activist and multimedia visionary. He was a mentor to hundreds of young writers, filmmakers, artists and photographers finding their way, many of whom have gone on to great success. I was one of the young people Kevin guided and encouraged as editor of YO! Youth Outlook. My story is a familiar one among the veterans of YO!: I spent my teenage years in juvenile hall and came to New America Media through YO!’s sister program, The Beat Within. I started writing for Youth Outlook and early in my time there, Kevin came in as the head of the magazine. He trusted our impulses and gave us the tools and encouragement to tell the stories we deemed most pressing. Mizgon Zahir, a former colleague of mine, came to our offices at Kevin’s insistence after a chance meeting in 2001. Reflecting on his influence in her life, Mizgon said, “As a young writer, I was afraid to talk about taboo topics related to the Afghan community, but Kevin taught me how to find my voice. He taught me about courage. He showed me how to take risks to help others and advance myself.” Mizgon’s story, the first she’d ever written, ran on our cover. That was a month before 9-11 and long before the government’s invocation of the oppression of Afghan women as a justification for war. Beyond foresight, it was downright clairvoyant. But we came to expect that from Kevin. He was dialed into the world in a way that seemed almost extra sensory.
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I adore and worship, cherish and appreciate this Goddess. My life is a reflection of her love and kindness. Our home is a monument to her vision. Our daughters are their momma’s muses and motivation. She is perfection in her humanity and spirit. She is humble and bombastic, funny and smart. A friend and a mentor and a leader, she is. Happy birthday I love you on and on. - Kevin’s Facebook Post to his beautiful wife Lateefah on her birthday, January 2014
Lelah is in Grandma’s hands. I am thankful and blessed to have both of these women in my life. They are my life and the lights that guide my family. Happy bday Geraldine -- you make my life possible daily. And you lace Lelah with the kind of fierce unconditional love and faith that moves mountains and heals the blues. I’ll always love my momma, she’s my favorite girl. - Kevin’s Facebook Post to his mom Geraldine on her birthday, January 2014
“Three years ago today my life was changed, my life was saved. I love my daughter Lelah... I have been redeemed by her smile. Happy bday baby, 3-years-old!” - Kevin Weston’s Facebook Post on April 1, 2014
His legacy is solidified as a media pioneer in what’s now referred to as The Bay Area Style of Journalism, an early ancestor of citizen journalism that combined multimedia storytelling and activism with the emerging technological tools of the 21st century. The Pacific News Service model of journalism encouraged community members, mostly media outsiders, to tell their own stories relating to themes ignored or fumbled by mainstream media, like incarceration, environmental justice, violence and immigration. Kevin’s contribution to this model was that he was among the first to encourage the use of Internet-based media platforms to bypass traditional news outlets. It is called The Bay Area Style because it was informed by the proximity to Silicon Valley during the communication revolution, a tradition of progressive politics in the region and the Bay Area’s place in history as the home of the free speech movement and the Black Panther Party. Kevin combined these sensibilities into a vision for a future we now take for granted, but was bizarre and beguiling in 2000 when he first encouraged us to approach media and activism in this way. He often said that “protests are corny,” and that the future of activism and organizing was a convergence of media, networking, technology and communications. The role that Twiiter played in the Arab Spring is one example of this vision come to fruition, 10 years later. Kevin was also an insistent outsider, suspicious of formal institutions, including traditional media organizations and universities, for their corruptibility and traditional, stubborn modes of thought. When I was considering majoring in journalism at San Francisco State University, he told me, “I’ve seen a lot of good writers ruined by J-School.” Kevin’s work at New America Media was reflective of the times we were living and working in. The first decade of the 21st century was an incredibly violent, tumultuous time and Kevin saw and professed a connection between violence in poor communities and the ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. He encouraged us, as reporters, to find global connections to the local stories we pursued. K e v i n
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Even Kevin’s style of dress was reflective of his dynamic and unique perspective on the world. In the years that we worked together, his typical work outfit consisted of a dashiki, worn under a tuxedo jacket with camouflage cargo pants, Adidas shell toe sneakers and an Oakland A’s baseball cap with his bushy afro pushing out of the sides. Many of the aspects of Kevin’s identity were present in this outfit: he was a Black man, a playboy, a soldier, a hip-hop head, a sports fan and a proud Oakland native.
Kevin’s editorial style was famously minimalist. He offered selective guidance but readily hounded writers on deadline in the gruff style of Perry White, Clark Kent’s editor at the Daily Planet. An oftenrecounted story involves Kevin trying to encourage a young woman who was well past deadline to get her story finished. After several patient minutes on the phone, Kevin stood up, held the receiver a foot from his face and said, very slowly and quite loudly: “It’s. Not. That. Hard! Just write what happened!” It’s a funny story, but it’s also an implementation of his journalistic philosophy. His job as he saw it was not to tell us what the story was or tinker with our copy. He trusted us to gather the facts, to “write what happened” and put our version of it out to the world. In my case, he called me when I was past deadline and simply asked “Do you still write?”, adding an affectionate expletive in the place of my name. At the front end of the editorial process, though, Kevin was incredibly engaged, gentle and encouraging. We often had contributors who had never written anything in their lives and thought they didn’t have a story to tell, but Kevin brought it out of them. Malcolm Marshall, a longtime friend and collaborator of Kevin’s compared it to a
magic trick. “Kev could pull something out of a kid who didn’t even know they had it in them. He could pull a rabbit out of a hat.” Kevin’s neatest trick, though, might have been his ability to tame and balance the different projects of New America Media itself, an outrageously diverse, often chaotic newsroom. In the early 2000s, we had scholars, young people fresh from juvenile hall, activists, members of the ethnic press, homeless youth living off the grid and recent college graduates, all sharing the same space. We were all in the service of a common goal, but balancing those energies took an incredible amount of finesse and it often fell to Kevin to maintain the peace. Or to disrupt it, depending on what he saw fit. The Youth Communications projects of NAM came about in the early 1990s, when America’s young Black men were sensationally and shamefully characterized in the mainstream media as “Super Predators.” Sandy Close’s counter was that this generation of young people was not super-predatorial, they were super-communicative. Kevin was a supercommunicator: a journalist, a rapper, an editor, a DJ, a public speaker and a conversationalist who lived to engage the world, challenging hypocrisy and abuses of power right up to his final days. In 2005, NAM hosted an Ethnic Media Expo at Columbia University in New York City. One late night, after celebrating the success of the event, I found myself in a rap cypher with Kevin and several New York City rappers on a street corner in the Lower East Side. It quickly became a battle between us and the New York guys, one of whom rapped that he’d finish us “like the Son of Sam.” Kevin was next and he rapped, “Serial killers? Yeah, we can talk about that/I’m from the Bay, the home of the Zodiac/but Einstein Berkowitz is up under the jail/while the Zodiac’s still out there and YOU’VE GOT MAIL!” Everybody cheered. That line ended the battle and the guys all slapped our hands before we walked on. Earlier that day, I was with him at a reception in The New York Times offices, where I watched Kevin, while eating shrimp and drinking a Heineken, tell one of their higher-ups, “Print is dead.”
Reflections I remember when I met Kevin. It was at a YO! Writers Meeting. These were meetings where youth pitched stories for the now-defunct publication “Youth Outlook” Magazine. I wasn’t a writer but attended because I worked at the office, and Sandy always invited me to contribute my ideas. I guess even then, she found value in what I had to say. It wasn’t a huge meeting, maybe 15 young adults. It was held in the common space of the office. There were at least 6 big filing cabinets and 4 pillars that created barriers to us all sitting in an actual circle and you’d have to poke your head around a pillar or cabinet to see who was talking, depending on where you were sitting. This particular meeting started off with someone talking about some stupid singer who was in some scandal (a common topic.) Someone else talked about wanting to do a “man on the streets” type interview on tobacco and teens. The meeting was falling flat on ideas... Across from me was this lanky dude in a brown jacket and a huge afro (I still think Aaron McGruder’s Huey from the Boondocks is patterned after Kevin) with a notebook, who would every so often jot something down. He had a beautiful smile and would show some teeth every so often to the new folks, who were mostly silent, to show them they were welcomed in the space even though they weren’t contributing to the conversation. After half an hour or so, the guy with the big afro scoots forward in his chair, puts the notebook on the floor and takes off his backpack. In a very soft spoken but commanding voice, he thanks everyone for coming and tells them he had this idea he’s been thinking about- it’s about the influence of rap music on white youth. Ri’Chard LAUGHS, so does his friend Will (Hanif). I wasn’t sure if he was serious, but he continues by pulling out a magazine that talks about record sales being up in suburban communities. I don’t know if anyone ever covered that story... but I do remember I was intrigued and enjoyed the meetings and the office on the 5th floor of 450 Mission Street. Kevin and I had some of the most amazing conversations and there are many moments in my life where I appreciated Kevin’s patience, counsel and wisdom-- he’s saved my marriage a few times... he’s helped me not ring Paul’s neck a couple of times... he watched Seinna, Charles, Lael, Ajaya and Samiya grow up in the PNS/ New America Media office, while my husband typed away at a computer next door. Kevin fed them when I could not. Kevin argued with me... Kevin pissed me off. lol. But through it all, he was absolutely a good friend. I have shared many milestones with Kevin; he watched me fall in love with my husband... we said goodbye to Ladie, Ri’Chard and Franz together... he helped my husband and I welcome our kids into the world. And I watched as his life changed when he got together with my best friend Lateefah. I watched this heartbreaking bachelor transform into this amazingly, responsible, love-filled man. Lateefah saved Kevin from the worst parts of himself. She did something no one else could do -- she completed him. He loved Aminah as if she was his own and they would often talk pop culture, politics, and of course, journalism. When Lelah came along, the circle was complete. He touched many people’s lives. It has been wonderful to read all the under 35 year olds talk about his influence on their career/life paths. From journalist, to poets, to playwrights, Kevin impacted people in ways that can only be revealed by how they will change the world. Kevin fought a good fight. He remained strong til the very end. I will truly miss Kevin...and this is how I wish to remember him. Young (always young- so young I’ve bet strangers they wouldn’t be able to guess how old he was -ever:), vibrant, brilliant, full of life and always smiling. Rest Well Kevin. Say hi to the comrades on the other side for me.
- Christina “Krea” Gomez
Kevin Weston was our Professor Xavier—a dark-skinned version with A LOT more hair. And like the X-Men superhero I’m referring to—Kevin spent all of the last decade bringing a wide range of people together (more misfit than mutant) and helping us unleash our talents as content creators, media makers, and storytellers. “Let’s make it happen,” Kevin would say—and soon enough there would be a new youth magazine we were incubating, a television show, a summer program, a reporting trip to some far-off, semi-dangerous locale. What I will carry forward most— along with my deep friendship with Kevin—is his unfailing ability to inspire confidence and action in those around him. Kevin wasn’t sentimental—he wasn’t mushy— but he believed in us, and that’s
the faith I want to keep. When I met Kevin, I had been working as a journalist for a few years—but I was a suburban Indian American girl from Ohio, with zero experience working with young people. Kevin took a chance when he hired me to be his Managing Editor at YO! Youth Outlook, but more than that—he showed me how to help young people tell their own stories, in their words, and gave me the confidence to do it. Over ten years later, I am proud to say that I am still working with youth—that Kevin helped show me my path, my life’s work. Professionally, I can’t enumerate the skills, experiences, and life moments I had working with him. Being Kevin’s right hand woman was an amazing opportunity, as I got to see Kevin’s incredible skill of being able to move between worlds. How he could engage a room full of young people, and then walk into a funder meeting, and elucidate exactly why we needed to arm young people with digital storytelling tools—without switching beats, tones, or outfits. But beyond that—Kevin became one of my closest friends, and the time we spent together will be remembered by unabashed joy and pleasure. We—the YO! crew (in various iterations)—and Kevin spent hours (maybe entire days) laughing. Kevin had a resounding, deep belly laugh that was infectious and raucous. It was a party-starting laugh. For years, I remember all of us together, laughing, in various alleys, backcorners, bar rooms, cars, parks— all corners of the Bay and quite a few trips across the nation. The jokes and cracks and hugs are still fresh in my mind, and could fill six more of these newspapers. But as much as Kevin was our peer, we all looked up to him, and I was proud to see him grow. His relationship with Lateefah was an inspiration to all of us—a sign that it was okay to settle down, to fall in love with the right person. Kevin called me when he got back from Seattle last year with the good news of his remission. He told me how much he loved me and how proud he was of everything I had done. After
everything he had been through, he was still there—holding me up, showing me my own light. He told me how he was driving around Oakland, and listening to music. He was so happy to be home, with his family—ready to get back to work. I think of him in that car, often—smiling in the golden autumn sunlight. Love you, Kev. - Neelanjana Banerjee You introduced all of us to each other, to other creative deep-thinkers. You created a safe place for us to explore the world, and to tell true stories of all people. You allowed us to experiment with storytelling, encouraging us to use any format necessary, understanding we were all multi-faceted. Thank you for believing in the art, the videos, the words, in us.
-Ann Bassette
My Mentor, My Friend : Kevin Weston For me, Kevin will always be the guy with the fro that gave me my first job at YO! Youth Outlook. That, and the guy who liked to play me old, obscure R&B songs and ask, “What do you know ‘bout this Ming Ling?!” Like so many YO! Interns, Kevin encouraged me to write about what interested and inspired me. Kevin truly understood the necessity of giving young writers and journalists a place to grow and develop confidence in their voices regardless of who they were or where they were from. As journalists, Kevin hammered into all of us the importance of staying ahead of the news curve. We had to be new and current. If we weren’t: we were ‘slippin’. After leaving New America Media, Kevin asked me to join his new organization Kwest On Media and help train the new, and ultimately, last batch of what some of us refer to as, “Kevin’s Kids.” It was intense, scary, and satisfying all at the same time. But when Kevin walked into the office and saw the excitement of the room, there was this all too familiar creative energy that ignited. Watching Kevin lead a group discussion was a lot like seeing a seasoned master chef in his element. Kevin didn’t miss a beat. He knew exactly how to lead the discussion from the starting line to the finish line… followed by him taking a picture of the white board with his iPad for good measure. When Kevin first got sick, he tried really hard to still make his presence felt, and he was determined for things to keep happening despite whatever his condition was. “We’re gonna keep rolling till the wheels fall off, “ he once said. After the cancer appeared, Kevin wasn’t in communication as much. But every now and then, my phone would explode with questions: “What’s going on with the video?” “You in the office?” “Just make sure the audio is good.” When I visited him in the hospital the afternoon before he passed, he was asking about the status of our pending documentary over the beeping of the scary machine next to him. He didn’t seem fazed by anything; he just wanted the work to get done. Kevin wasn’t just my boss though. He was the friend that offered to drive over to my ex-boyfriend’s house to “get back” my stuff and was always down for a drink after a painfully long day, all while pointing out just how big of a ‘square-bear-sponge-pants’ I was. We lost a good one. I’m gonna miss my friend.
said, “So what’s it like being a father?” He smiled, looked away, clearly imagining her as he did, and said simply, “I’m in love.” The clarity of his truth gave me words for my truth. So let me say plainly and honestly: Thank you Kevin for everything.
-Raj Jayadev
- Michael Skillman
A very special memory of Kevin… Kevin and my brother are old school friends. In 1990 I gave birth to my first child, a daughter. Kevin and Al came to see me and the baby. I just remember how he was so relaxed and looked at her as he held her in his arms. I thought he could sit and hold her forever. She is 24 now and I can still envision that day. So when he finally had a child... I remember thinking she was in good hands. I think everyone would agree. Rest in power Kevin.
- Debbie Nelson
I first met Kevin at Pinole Valley High School in 1982. Along with Al Buchanan, Michael Skillman and a host of others, we were like a partying gang of brothers who traveled all around the Bay Area and beyond looking for the hottest clubs. Kevin was a dancing machine!!! We all wondered where all that energy was coming from. As we all got older, Kevin started honing in on his writing skills by working at 4080 Rap Magazine, interviewing such Bay Area rap legends as Mac Mall and Andre Nikatina early in their careers. Kevin had always had a knack for getting a good interview. Kevin did all this while working part time at UPS (1988-1996) where he was a model employee. That’s just a little bit of the early life of Kevin Weston. We have been friends for over 30 years and like all the people who I mentioned above, we miss him dearly. RIP Kevin. I love you dog.
- Franklin Abrams
June 30,1994…Kevin was the best man at my wedding. Best example of a man, next to mine. The three of us would talk of politics (years later lovingly going back and forth about “ Barry” Obama), poetry, the A’s and family. We knew we would have children one day. Kevin is a great dad. I can’t imagine this old body dancing till the sun came up like we used to at the Carribee in Oakland. Thank you Shabba and Mad Lion and Patra for helping us sweat out the troubles of the day. We laughed. We chilled out. We planned. We dreamed. We lived. My family moved from California to Birmingham in 2000 and we planned to visit several times. And Kevin always said he’d come to see us, too. But life has other plans for us... my daughter was born in 2002 and in 2010 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Our last conversation was about cancer treatments and family a few months ago.... We wanted to get our kids together. I wanted to meet his amazing wife... my husband and I were coming to Cali the 4th of July weekend this year.. My dear Kevin, I love you on and on and on...
- Kimberly Black-Crawford
- Eming Piansay
Kevin’s daughter Lelah is just a couple months younger than my son. As new fathers, we got the same routine question, “So what’s it like?” I always found it to be an utterly unanswerable question. When asked, I would either give a generic response, telling myself there are no words, or launch into a lengthy, meandering, monologue that really lead to nowhere, and left the person who asked regretting they did so. After seeing Kevin in the office for the first time after Lelah was born, I instinctively asked him the same question that always flustered me. I
around and around all across town. We were stopping all kinds of traffic on Chilpanchango Blvd, people honking, and just straight out destroying the clutch in her car. Somehow we made it around town and back to her job in time to pick her up and we just keep laughing all the way home. Love you Mahne Eating was like a hobby for Kev. He would often eat two meals in one. He loved ethnic foods of all kinds but his favorite dish by far was gumbo. We drove all over the Bay Area in search of good gumbo. To him, no one could ever touch his mother’s gumbo which he would often freeze and eat for weeks to come. As far as music goes, he knew and loved straight ahead jazz, soul, funk, blues and old school hip hop and rock ‘n roll. He loved Bay Area rap music. He sometimes rapped himself, and his lyrics and voicing were often very comical. He was an avid reader and he loved history and science fiction. He especially enjoyed books by Octavia Butler and Walter Mosley. -- Malcolm Marshall, PublisherEditor, The Richmond Pulse He was definitely a mentor and dear friend, even like family. I attached a photo (oddly the only photo I think I have with him) from Nov. 2013. The first time I saw him after their wedding in City Hall, and the last time I saw him period. I know he is resting in heaven.
-- Suzanne Manneh
Hey Brother Kev, It is late at night but I have taken to getting up and writing in these last few weeks, thanks to you. I have slowly been getting back into understanading the power of words and the healing that can come from putting proverbial ‘pen to paper’, or in my case, fingers to keyboard. I’ve been thinking so much about how much my life has changed since August 2012. What a journey! You and Lateefah and Lelah and Aminah have inspired such a broad and beautiful community. Inspired by your love, you all sparked something big. Folks came from far and wide to be in the halls of Kaiser Santa Clara. If they could not come physically, they sent their love, donated to support the fam, hosted bone marrow donor recruitment drives, or just followed along with the story of your journey/ fight with the monster called cancer. You all inspired us to get out of our own shells – to move away from fear and isolation – to come together and fight for something bigger than ourselves. And in that fight we became family. I will always treasure our times kicking it together. Sitting around talking sports or politics or about Black folks – we could always have a good time just hanging. Dude, I cannot believe that you got me to watch an entire afternoon of ‘Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta’. And that marathon day that we did all those geography puzzles that you bought for Lelah was epic. Going out to eat at Brenda’s or eating burritos at the house, we just kicked it. And rolling through Oakland in a stretch limo after you all returned home from Seattle post-transplant will always be one of my favorite memories. It was in all these times and spaces that you became my brother. Life is a beautiful struggle . What I know at core of my being is that we are not alone. We build the families that hold us up. We create the communities that bring us through the darkest and most wonderful times of our lives. And I would not change one thing about this last two years Kev. Not one thing. Because this was all about love. Love wins Kev. Love wins.
- ayoka There was this time back in high school when Kevin and I wanted to hangout in Concord. So we went with my sister and dropped her off at work. At the time, my sister had a Ford Pinto with a stick shift, and Kevin assured me that he knew how to drive it so off we went. We got about two blocks from my sister’s job and Kevin must have forgotten everything about the stick shift because we were bucking T h e
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- Josué Rojas
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Reflections Kevin Weston was a terrific, committed journalist, and terrific, committed human being. We were excited by his Knight Fellowship proposal, and one of the terrible realities of his death is that we’ll never get to see what he would have created. - James Bettinger, Director, Stanford Knight Fellowships Kevin was always the man with the big heart, full of compassion. With every young person, he engaged, he listened, he heard, and he challenged. - David Kakashiba, Executive Director, East Bay Asian Youth Center and President, Oakland Unified School Board What a huge loss to the ethnic and youth media community that he was such a big part of. - Erlin Ibreck, Open Society Foundations Kevin was one of the first to understand the power of hip hop and how in the early 1990s communications had become an antidote for youth violence. - Cobie Kwasi Harris, Professor (ret), San Jose State University Remembering Kevin Weston’s time as SF Bay View columnist: Kevin Weston came to the Bay View through his father, who was working with us in the ‘90s. His dad said, “I Transformative Mentoring
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he Mentoring Center mourns the passing of Kevin Weston and reflects on how impactful Kevin was on many of our youth. We got to work with Kevin through a partnership with Pacific News Service. Many of our young people are on probation and we often collaborate with other agencies that can provide opportunities and jobs for our youth, as did PNS. We know that our youth are talented, their potential boundless. During our partnership, we sent anyone who had a passion for writing and was willing to cross the Bay to work and learn. We sent many kids to PNS, where they got work with Kevin and others, as young journalists and writers, some on Youth Outlook, some as alum of The Beat Within, and some covering events that were important to the lives of youth of color and youth on probation. Kevin was always encouraging, inspiring and mentoring our youth. We had youth who would come back to TMC, excited about a story they’d written or a trip they were taking, whether to Sacramento or New Orleans, to cover an event. We knew that Kevin was responsible for this
shouldn’t brag on my own flesh and blood, but Kevin is a brilliant writer, the best I’ve ever read.” We soon had good reason to agree. For several years, Kevin owned at least a page – and often two – of every Bay View. In the early days of computer graphics, he created collages of exciting photos as a background for his poetry and prose. What he wrote was shocking sometimes – taboo topics that young people were dying to see in print, and old folks too. He could unlock your mind that you thought was wide open. With a few words, he’d make you see an unseen injustice that had been staring you in the face – and motivate you to do something about it. Above all, Kevin was an inspiration – and always will be. May his spirit imbue many generations of journalists to come. We love you, Kevin, as you loved us. - Mary and Willie Ratcliff, editor and publisher of the SF Bay View “Kevin was someone who never took advice for granted, whether he was seeking it or giving it. We were one of the first foundations to fund Yo! Youth Outlook during its startup. Kevin’s grasp of the power of the digital media revolution and its role in transforming young people’s lives convinced us it was the right thing to do.” - Tessie Guillermo, President and CEO, ZeroDivide
excitement, and once we met him, we knew that he believed what we believed – that our youth are brilliant beyond measure and need to be empowered to tell their own stories. That formal partnership was over long ago, but we will always be grateful for that time and for Kevin, for helping our youth find their voices and helping them know that they had something profound and powerful to say. Thank you, Kevin. Your incredible legacy and spirit live on. May you rest in power.
Kevin’s Latest Project: Comic Blog Posted on his Facebook Page 5/21/2013
The Brilliant Mind of Kevin Weston Excerpts from Kevin Weston’s writings spanning over two decades of insightful, unique, and captivating perspectives On Music: When Hip Hop Goes Retro That earthquake-like beat in the distance is the sound of hip hop returning to underground roots put down in the ‘80s. Hip hop was hardcore back then, because hard times were spreading like the flu -just like now. Tik crack Thump/thump Boom/Boom/Boom It’s the sound that only hip hop can make.
crushed a 3-2 Mike Bacsik pitch into right center to go past the great Hank Aaron and crown himself Major League Baseball’s all-time home-run king. He circled those bases to a deafening hometown roar. The real drama that night wasn’t whether Bonds would rewrite the records books, but whether Hank Aaron would acknowledge Bonds’ feat. Though Aaron didn’t attend, as is customary on these kinds of occasions, the aging ex-slugger did the next classiest thing, congratulating Bonds by video on the park’s big screen. That four-bag trot and subsequent outpouring of adulation were the moments no one can take away from Bonds, regardless of what happens at his federal perjury trial. Jurors were chosen in the case Monday in the same city that praised his name that balmy yet windy August night when Barry Lamar Bonds became master of the baseball universe.
Rap and Hip Hop Is Dead – Long Live Funk If the soul died when Marvin Gaye was gunned down by his father, then it was reborn in this generation of young hip hop-influenced musicians and vocalists. The now-familiar sounds of rap and hip hop have morphed into just a style of pop music and soon will be only a memory. A new wave of artists, however, come from places no pop artist can reach. On Sports: They Might Be Gigantes—Latino Ballers Mum on Immigration So in the absence of an individual majorleague voice for reform (the MLB player’s association has come out against SB 1070), those who support and empathize with the undocumented community might root for the Giants to knock off the Diamondbacks and with them Arizona and the laws that state represents. True sports giants transcend the game and impact politics in this country, another pennant for my hometown San Francisco Giants over the D-Backs would be justice. No one expects Latino baseball players to emulate Jackie Robinson -- who publicly expressed his views on the volatile civil rights issues of his time. Robinson was giant not just because of what he did on the field but what he stood for. But the relative silence among ball players of Latin American descent on the current human-rights battle in the United States is untenable when immigrant rights have emerged as a critical flashpoint of the struggle for social justice in the United States and worldwide. Two Trials and an Anniversary—Bonds, Bailey and Mixon AT&T Park shook so hard I thought I was on a pogo stick the night Barry Bonds
On Politics: “Still Listening to Tupac” Walk around Black Community, U.S.A., and you will see more and more young wearing natural hairstyles, dreadlocks and afros. On the political level, the disenfranchisement of black and Latino voters in Florida made it clear that elections can and will be fixed whenever it suits the powers that be -- recalling Malcolm X’s words “democracy is nothing but hypocrisy.” Indeed much that is now part of mainstream black political thought -- reparations, ending police brutality, economic empowerment, repatriation/ pan-Africanism -- were once thought to be the property of black extremist. The Occupied View the Occupiers in Oakland: Either through its own human waste, internal strife (fueled by race) and crime-filled inertia or the governments iron fisted crackdown, Occupied Oakland at Frank Ogawa Plaza was doomed. After the carnage melancholy creeps in. A chunk of Americans are reported to “agree” with the politics behind the occupy movement. And I imagine there is plenty of sympathy in this city -- ravaged by unemployment, foreclosures and budget cuts -- for a lot of their agenda. Power to the people, and more power to them, because if somebody is going to take these particular actions -- camping out (basically a sleep-in) and battling police on the street -- it might as well be the Occupiers. Hundreds of families in Oakland have more intimate concerns that require sustainable forms of fighting injustice. While Occupy Oakland was pitching tents, parents, teachers and concerned communities supporting the handful of schools facing closure because of budget cuts are organizing single mothers, elders raising kids and students to save their schools. Hundreds are expected to attend a school board meeting tonight to fight the closures. As the night fell on Tuesday protestors and police clashed in and around Frank Ogawa Plaza -- tear gas, shock grenades, mace and batons. No one knows if this is the end or just the beginning of total chaos. For links to Kevin’sArticles scan the QR code below:
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More Reflections and Social Media Posts No matter how small Kevin’s apartment was, or how many jobs he was juggling at the time, how hard he had to hustle from one of them and get on the bus or BART, he was always down to have the Young Comrades meetings in his living room in the late 1990s. He never seemed to speak without having something very thoughtful to say. He didn’t seem to be hung up on the specifics of rhetoric, and always looked past that to intended meaning and context. In this way, he squashed a lot of bullshit. Everything was from the heart with him. No need to wonder what his angle was. As is the case with many great people- he was a very busy dude, and so am I, so I haven’t seen him in years. It may actually have been 16 years since we’ve held a full conversation. I just realized that time lapse now, because his words have a way of just hanging out in your brain until they’re needed, then they tap you on your shoulder and it seems like he just said them the other day. I heard he passed away last night. Rest in peace. - Boots Riley
but clearly they really liked and respected each other. Walking away, I though to myself, now that’s great. A true, Bay Area couple. Rest in peace Kevin. You were well loved, for all the right reasons. - James Kass
I read the post on Sunday, but didn’t want to believe it... Rest in Power Kevin Weston! You were a fierce journalist who paved the way for many and a beautiful example of a Father and partner. We are sending prayers and energy for a safe and peaceful journey home for you and for strength and healing for Lateefah Simon, your amazing young daughter and family, and all of us in the community who will miss you... - George Galvis
I met Kevin Weston while I was still in high school in SF, I was living in H.P Oakdale Projects with my aunt and uncle at the time. Was definitely at a crossroads in my life and got to witness at a young age, places, and lifetimes that were not meant for me to live. Kevin was the first person that gave me my first legal check in my life for something I loved, storytelling. After graduating, SFPD came to look for me at my Aunts and I went on the run and moved to San Jo with my Dad where I met Raj Jayadev and Sv Debug . After crazy trouble, incarceration, and run ins with the law DeBug would continue that “Kevin” spirit for me while I was trying to find my place in life. Its folks like Kevin, whose legacy is weaved in stories that come all the way from a Western Samoan village to some gritty housing projects in Frisco. Next week, Im privileged to travel with my DeBug crew to New York to teach some federal lawyers the art of storytelling, and humanizing through video to save and reduce time of folks who have crazy sentencing time. Imagine that. I’m going to miss his memorial but will always keep this new ancestor in every story I have the privilege to tell wherever I am in this life. Big ups to one of the Bay Areas finest, Mr.Weston. The title is off point tho #legendsneverdie - Jean Melesaine
My good friend Kevin Weston passed this past Monday morning. Man, if you hadn’t heard him discuss any topic, hadn’t read his work, didn’t understand his mission, never knew how this man embodied cool or never witnessed his philosophic steelo, you didn’t know Kevin Weston. He was “Philo,” the thinker, Hip Hop cypher powerhouse, visionary and lover of justice and everyday people when we met in 1998-1999. He matured into a brilliant young voice, a provocative journalist and mentor to countless youths who learned to let go of the margins they were either assigned or born into clinging, in part, through knowing Kevin. He listened, encouraged and inspired. The only boxes I recall Kevin loving were a beatbox and a boombox as he refused mental shackles. At 45, he was a devoted husband, father, family member, community advocate and friend. What a life. You’ll be both with us and forever missed, Kev. Hug Ri’Chard tightly for us all. Thanks again for this piece, Russell Morse, my talented friend. Be well. - Andrea Nicci Jones
Rise in power brother Kevin. I don’t know what I believe about the afterlife, but I know energy is neither created nor destroyed. You been here before, you here now, and you’ll always be here to the degree that we can understand it. Ase. - Malkia Cyril There is an email I will always treasure. A short message from Kevin dated February 2009. I was still in LA. “Hey Monica - have you started writing yet? I’m going to stay on you until it happens. Holla.” I imagine he wrote so many similar to the point/some kind of magical messages. For a couple years I had gotten to know Kevin through his writing and second hand stories and advice from one of my Salvi besties, Josue Rojas and my friend Russell Morse who were mentored by Kev personally and professionally – I remember being in disbelief about his age and taken with his youthful spirit and how he championed my friends, their projects and ideas. When we finally met in person in my hometown he was so generous with his wisdom, humor and PHILOSOPHY. I spent my 20s as a publicist, strategist and ghostwriter – while I was really afraid to put my own voice out there – I turned to my YO homies for creative collaboration, inspiration and instruction. I’m so grateful for them and to be one of dozens or hundreds that Kevin encouraged and kicked fun, thoughtful epic Bay history and culture to. My favorite was music talk and sports-related LA v Bay banter. I will also never forget that when my great friend Alex Sanchez was locked up Kev showed support early when so many folks turned away. I knew Kevin once upon a time for just a little bit and have been impacted far beyond the time we exchanged ideas from the Bay to LA. He was a giant, a true journalism pioneer with an important legacy (Google Youth Outlook through the 2000s and you will see what I’m talking about! *pioneers*). I’m committed to speaking Kevin Weston’s name when I share his wisdom, especially to young would-be writers of color. My favorite – “just tell what happened” is my go-to phrase for stage fright and writer’s block since the first time Josue passed it on to me. Also he was just so unpretentious and of-his-generation cool – what other editor greeted you like “what’s crackin, young mackin’?” Kevin Weston, Presente. - Monica Novoa
rip family, i appreciate all the wisdom you gave me when i was in trouble 14 years ago. heaven gained a rightious scholar / street soldier. - Jerome Davis Lost a beast of a man, dear dear old friend. I’m floored, humbled and heartbroken. Lateefah Simon, Aminah and Lelah—my deepest love to your family. Kev, I know I have an angel now. Thank you for the years of laughter. - Katherine Yungmee Kim
I first met Kevin Weston sitting next to him at Pacific News Service in the late 90’s when I was new to the Bay Area arts and youth and activism world. I loved talking with Kevin, and even more listening to him. He always had something smart to say about what was happening with young people, had a sharp eye on social movements, critiques on cultural shifts, and of course, could talk sh*t with anyone about Bay Area sports and all kinds of music. Over the years, I’d be in many meetings with Kevin. Sometimes they were small, but usually we were in a large group setting, each of us representing an organization or a project. Kevin was always one of the smartest people - if not the smartest person - in the room. Not only was he always honest and genuine, he was sharp, his words always dripped with meaning and context and experience and big ideas, and he was one of the most consistent people I ever knew. Kevin was the first person I heard talk about disrupting the media landscape. Long before the tech world “invented” the concept, Kevin was talking about the power of people to change the way the media operated, and who it operated it for. He stayed on point on this topic for the 15+ years I knew him, while continuing to do the good and hard work on the ground. Kevin was the first real disrupter I knew. I learned a lot from Kevin in those meetings. I think the thing I learned most though was that when you speak in a room like that, make your words matter. Kevin, almost always soft spoken, was perhaps the loudest quiet person around. Several years ago, before I knew they were a couple, I bumped into Kevin and Lateefah Simon outside of Davies Symphony Hall in SF. I’ve known Lateefah for years too, so the three of us easily fell into conversation. I think we were all going into the Mos Def/Erykah Badu show (or something), and it was the first I’d seen them together. Well, I wasn’t sure they were together,
The news of Kevin Weston’s passing has really messed me up this morning. Had me tearing in the crowded train. Thinking of him and his life relieves some of the sadness and reminds me that the ways we live our lives, the way we give, how much we share, how hard we love, and how much we smile...are prayers in actions bringing much needed Light into the world. I was moved to read this poem in his and his wife Lateefah’s honor. The Bay lost a good one. We must make sure the youth know his name. - La Prishni
I just heard the news of the passing of Kevin. I had not seen him other than Facebook in many long years, but I will always remember him as a kind and caring, dedicated to young people’s personal development and lives, committed to transformative journalism. He was my neighbor, colleague, comrade and brother. I send deepest condolences to his family, friends and community - Libero Della Piana My heart is broken. Our brother Kevin Weston will be dearly missed. Lateefah Simon and Aminah Ortiz-Simon and Lelah, we will continue to hold you all up in prayer. Thank you for being such an incredible example of love and faith. Kevin is one of god’s angels now watching over us all. I’m going to miss him so much. - London Breed
Kev and i met in 97, working with youth at EBAYC in berkeley, when it was called RISE. those several years we worked together, we would chop it up daily about rap, race, and politics, or debate frisco versus the town. we traded stories, shared history, broke bread.. above all else, we discussed the youth, and their power to change what we think is real.. over the last 14 years, me working with youth in oakland and him working with young people in SF (how ironic is that tho), our conversations grew less frequent, but never were they less full. he always had a project to put in my ear (“pete, blud, we gotta make this happen”), always about giving youth voice, always about merging words with technology, culture with activism, the hood with the world.. last I saw him, just a few weeks back, he looked and sounded stronger and brighter than ever, active and involved, full of life. shining. that’s how i will remember him.. his and lateefah’s story is one of the most inspiring i’ve had the privilege to bear witness, one of strength and courage, pain and devotion, community and hope, and relentless, unyielding love.. i miss you kev, and ima speak your name often.. - Peter Kim I knew Kevin Weston nearly 10 years, but we met in person less than 10 times. I reached out to him in 2004 when I started a creative writing class in the Esperanzas. I hoped to get West Alameda youth published in Youth Outlook! He sent us copies of and we’d regularly talk about publishing. That subscription lasted til at least 2007. A few of my formerly incarcerated youth had written for The Beat Within, too. I will always remember his words of encouragement, but more so, the feeling of brotherhood and genuine love i felt from this brotha when we finally met in 2011. I introduced myself to you in Frisco. You said you already T h e
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knew who i was, ‘because i know your work.’ to be recognized by a legend, someone you admire, respect, and aspire to emulate, is an awesome and humbling experience. you said something about trying to have dreads like you and Chauncey (mine are longer of both of y’all), then he added, something like ‘find your own voice’ or ‘tell your story.’ I’m grateful for your example as a journalist, activist, mentor, OG, hustler, husband, and father. i can’t tell you how many times non-black folk would mistake me for you at journalism gatherings. keep watch over us, bruh. - Rasheed Shabazz
Theres a hole where Kevin Weston stood. i can feel it when i walk around. its a hole that will never be filled - Sake Onederful Kevin Weston you will be missed. I had not seen Kevin since high school, however I will miss him as if I’d talked to him yesterday. I’m praying for your wife and little girl, that the peace of the true and living God will surround them with Family and a lot of Love. - Sonya Y. Smith-hodge Power Of Kevin Weston People all over are mourning the loss of a dear brother, Kevin Weston. I’m saddened to hear of this young brother’s passing due to illness and want to lift him up and share the impact he had on my life: When I was 17 years old I began to become increasingly politicized and interested in social welfare. The regional and national tone was leaning heavy in a “diversity” direction as people theorized about America being a “melting pot.” The notion being that instead of being distinct people with distinct narratives, triumphs, and struggles, we were all becoming a blur or rainbow- depending on how you felt about the melting pot thing… There was this sorta new term and popular consciousness that we were not African, Chicano, South East Asian, Honduran, Mexican, etc., but rather “People of Color.” As the swirl twirled, I was a teenage Black kid involved in social justice education and curiously noticed that there were hardly any Black men in the mix. Our mentors, teachers, and after school coordinators were dope folks- normally women, some men, and almost always Latino, Asian, or White. Except for this one cat: Kevin Weston Kev was tall with an untamed afro (I remember him how he is pictured above) and I dug him because he was a polite/shit talking/ hella informed brother that often had a casual confidence to himself. He was warm and no nonsense to us young people and in him I saw inspiration to keep growing and learning in areas that most people seemed to either shun or be unaware of. I vividly remember a training Kevin facilitated when I was just 18 years old at UC Berkeley. He fascinated us as he taught about the contemporary Black experience while relating and synchronizing common struggles with other ethnicities without diluting any group. The other youth I knew that worked more closely with Kevin at a youth publication he spearheaded (Youth Outlook) all loved him and sought out his insight on culture and politics. The last time I saw Kevin was a few years back. I was walking onto a campus to give a lecture at a conference and Kev was laid back in the driver seat of a car- the seat fully reclined. Up until then I was unaware that he was ill, but it was obvious upon seeing him, though I didn’t know the details. He smiled slowly at me and we exchanged a few words. “Teefah’s in there”, he said proudly, referring to his wife who we all respect and love being at the conference I was walking up on. I said peace and rolled out. But do you know what Kevin was doing when I walked up on the car (TRUE STORY, SWEAR TO GOD!)? He was laid back in that seat with his eyes closed swaying his head back and forth bumping fucking KRS ONE cause he’s a G. This brother was Love. He was Education. He was Hip-Hop. He was, as his legacy and work is now; NECESSARY and UN-REVERSABLE. One Perfect Love Big Homie,
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Verses of Scripture
Selected by Geraldine Weston, Kevin’s Mother
2nd Corinthians 12: 9 - 10 9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
Psalms 61: 1-2 1. Hear my cry, O God; Attend to my prayer. 2From the end of the earth I will cry to You, When my heart is overwhelmed; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. Psalms 30:5 5 For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
Acknowledgement Aminah, Lelah, and I are overwhelmed by the outpouring of love that’s surrounding our family. We shall continue to thank the universe for each lesson, every blessing, and for the gift of Kevin Weston. Your love and support through this time is not only awesomely humbling but it also means the world to us. My gratitude is indescribable! Thank you, thank you, thank you for loving my sweet family. -- Lateefah Simon
Make It Rain For Kevin Weston’s Family Kevin and Lateefah were blessed to be accompanied through the cancer years by a large and loving community that supported them every step of the way. That journey is not over. Kevin’s family is left with tens of thousands of dollars in medical bills due in the coming quarter alone. Lateefah has a daughter beginning college and a little girl who needs her mother at her side in the coming months. In other words (though certainly not in hers), she needs our financial support--to pay the medical bills, give her time with her family and the means to support them, and to give Kevin the memorial he so very much deserves. Please give what you can, a little or a lot. Just as importantly, please circulate this message among your networks. Now is the time to turn the remarkable community Kevin and Lateefah created and lived within into the cash the family needs to make it through this passage.
To support the family please donate at: • http://www.gofundme.com/1t8q58 • Mail a contribution to: Lateefah Simon c/o Rosenberg Foundation, 131 Steuart Street, Suite 650, San Francisco, CA 94105. • To join the Be the Match marrow registry go to: http://bethematch.org/ • To continue to share reflections, pictures and videos of Kevin we have captured the domain www.kevinweston.net Please check www.kevinandlateefah.com for updates while we build out this new site. • Scan the QR code below with your phone or mobile device and make your donation. Friends of Kevin’s family also plan to establish a scholarship fund for making tax-deductible donations in the near future, so please stay in touch. Thank you for helping honor Kevin’s legacy!
This newspaper was designed, edited, and compiled with love by Ann Bassette, Charisse Domingo, Raj Jayadev, Eming Piansay, , Malcolm Shabazz Hoover, Ayoka Turner and Josué Rojas. Art Direction: Josué Rojas Printing donated in part by Prodigy Press.