I Support the DREAM Act. Today on CNN, one of the topic of discussion was the DREAM Act. They had an undocumented student talk about his experience on being in higher education and the struggles he had.
After, someone from HACU and someone from FAIR debated the issue. Personally, I thought the guy from FAIR used the same anti immigrant rhetoric of "them immigrants taking our job and our slots in college". BULLSHIT!
If you support the DREAM Act, please get involved and help the passage of this important legislation that will help immigrants from across the world that have the grades and skills to get into elite institutions of higher education. Visit dreamactivist.org to find out how to get involved. Their are many organizations across the country that believe that Education is a Right and students who qualify and have the grades to get into college have an opportunity to do so. Some of these organizations are the United States Student Association, National Immigration Law Center, and National Council of la Raza....just to name a few.
Check out the video:
Matias on CNN - DREAMAct2009.com from Dream Activist on Vimeo.
DREAMing on a better world,
-DM
Growing up I loved reading poetry. Most of the stuff I read was writing over a hundred years ago and dealt with topics of love, death, family, and nationalism. It helped me think about the world I lived in and how their message translates (very vaguely) into current times.
One thing that I felt these poems lacked was its connection with me and my identity. The idea of writing my own poetry and coming up with my own history and poetic legacy was in college with a spoken word class I took. It not only taught me the ins and outs of poetry writing and performance, but it opened my eyes to all the current writers that are writing about the same topics, just relating it more towards current times and current struggles. I grew to love many Bar Area poets and performers and was torn because they were so good yet went without mention amongst mainstrean literature and entertainment.
Because of this, I like to highlight performers and the amazing topics they talk about. I can spend all night on youtube and other media outlets watching and listening to amazing performers. Unfortunately, Def Poetry Jam is one of the very few outlets where these performances are documented.
When I listen to poetry, I try to first understand what it is trying to tell me, and secondly, how it relates and affects me. There are many performances that I love, but very few leave me stunned and breathless. I was left speechless after listening to Daniel Beatty's performance of "Knock Knock". It is about the relationship of a kid and his father and how life experience and life lessons have affected the family.
It really got to me because it not only deals with the issue of injustice and institutional racism, but also how a family deals with the affects of injustice and racism. It reminds me a lot about my family and my many family members and friends who are in this same situation.
Below are two performances. The first one is "Knock Knock" and the second is another one entitled "Duality Duel"(another amazing performance).
Check it out:
Knock Knock
Duality Duel
knocking on the door,
-DM
So today once I got off of work and walked outside, I realized not only was it not dark out, but there was no thunder, rain, mist, clouds! Only a spec of clouds amongst the sea of blue skies and rays of sunlight! I loved it so much, i decided to walk home. For those of you familiar with DC, I walked from the Farragut North Metro stop area to the Petworth/Georgia Ave. Metro Stop area. I knew the sun was going to set within the hour so I figured I would enjoy the sunlight instead of being stuck in a metro the whole ride home. I even stopped by to get some ice cream!
This was such a calming and relaxed walk for me. I have noticed that the east coast feels like I am on a race racing against time to go to work, eat lunch, do all the task before the day is done, get home, check mail and other social networks, go to sleep etc etc etc. Walking really slowed this down and reminded me when my mother and I would walk to the store on weekends to get the weekly groceries, walking home from school as my friends and I would take hours to walk a couple of blocks, or walking around Berkeley as I soaked up the sun when I found out my class was canceled.
I have been told I should buy a camera and take pictures of places I go and people I see. I never did. I decided to document my walk home from work. Nothing fancy. As I was taking pictures, I realized how blessed I am to live in such a cool place. I really take for granted the history and landmarks of the places I have lived simply because I am there all the time.
Check out these pics:
Walking it out,
-DM
This past weekend, I spent it in the Bay. I would touch on this more, but I think my roommate did a good job at covering our experience on his blog. One thing I do want to say is that I saw so many people that I love and I am also happy to be in town during special events and parties! I did want to see more people but I weekend is not enough! I plan to head out again and I will let other know. Sorry if we didnt get to kick it this weekend!
One very significant thing that happened this weekend was that I started listening to a song NON STOP. Its called "Amazing" By Kanye West off his latest album "808's and Heartbreaks". It really exemplifies how I felt this weekend.
Yes, this is a song about how someone is so amazing....to the point of seeming "cocky" or "full of themselves". But let's be real, sometimes this is what we need to keep us going or to reassure ourselves of what we do. If I do not think I am Amazing, I won't believe anyone when they congratulate or complement me. It keeps me going and keeps me positive. If you do not agree with me....maybe you should reaffirm yourself and what you do. Love yourself before you attempt to love others! Here is the song I am talking about:
Simply Amazing,
-DM
This weekend, my friend was supposed to meet me up at U street to go eat some Peruvian food. He told me he was running late so I decided to go into a Rite Aid to pass the time. I figured browsing through the hallmark cards would be an entertaining way to pass the time.
I started reading the funny cards first and moved on to the love and birthday cards. As I read each card, I tried to think of people that I can give the cards to. Of course I was not going to send any cards, I just wanted to connect the card to someone in my life.
Out of all the cards, one stood out to me. In the front it stated, "Into every life, a rain must fall" with a picture of dark clouds and rain. And in the inside it said, "So, think of me as your Umbrella" and it had a kid in the middle of the rain covered by an umbrella with the sun slightly popping out of the dark clouds. I have to admit, the first thing I thought about was the Rihanna song, "Umbrella" haha.
For some strange reason, that card made me really happy. I know it is just a generic card and no one meant it to go to me, but for some strange reason, I liked it a lot. I started to think of the people that would be holding that umbrella for me....and who I would be holding that umbrella for. For about 5 minutes I felt as if time stood still as I daydreamed about friendships and umbrellas. I was in hallmark messaging heaven. Afterward, it put me in a happier state of mind.
I am glad my friend took longer than expected because I would not have ventured into Rite Aid and read that message. Funny how the most random things can change your attitude.
Afterward, I had some amazing Peruvian food and went about my weekend :)
Holding an umbrella for you,
-DM
Ever since I stepped foot in DC, there is not a day I go without seeing someone with some type of Obama merchandise. Buttons, shirt, sweater, beanie, backpack, handbag, and yes, even shoes and sandals! At first I was super excited because I felt the energy and excitement in DC. So many people wore their merchandise with pride.
It was an amazing sight! But ever since Inauguration Day, it started getting a little salty. Buttons for $5 dollars, shirts for $30, picture frames for $50, magnets for $6, stickers for $3! The scariest part about it was that people were buying these by the dozen! There was no price on the satisfaction of having Obama's name and/or face somewhere on your body....and sadly, street vendors knew that.
I understand the significance of being there and having a button that says "I Was There". That is a moment I would want to share 40 or 60 years from now with the younger kids in my family. But now, April 14th, people still wearing all the obama gear everywhere I go. I do not know whether they still have this sense of pride....or if they just wear it because they spent so much money on it months ago.
I trust Obama as president, but not enough to spend so much money. If all those people that spent all that money dedicated an hour per dollar spent door knocking or phonebanking, their contribution to Obama would of gone DIRECTLY to Obama instead of someone who is trying to make money off of him. Those hours would of also been more valuable than any button with the picture of Obama and MLK Jr. on it.
I guess I can't complain since i do live in DC. I am glad people feel ownership of the executive branch on our government since that has not happened in years. But no matter how amazing of a job Obama does, there will be street vendors and store owners with dollars signs in their heads trying to milk your last prideful dollar.....sigh....
waiting for 2012 election,
-DM
The Good, the Bad, and the Religious!
Filed under:
easter,
oppression,
reflection,
religion,
spoken word
by:
Since Easter Sunday and Good Friday are right around the corner, it is that time when I reflect on my own religious affiliations and why I have not been a better catholic. I also always get into a discussion with myself about what it means to be religious and the point of religion. I always come up with the same answer: Hope.
We are born into this world, we live our life, and then die. To know that you live your life to the fullest only to have it come to a halting stop scares even the toughest people. Religion give people hope. Hope that living a good life will result into eternal happiness, Hope that treating people with respect is an investment to pay for admission into heaven.
This is also a time when I question my religion. Whether or not there is really Hope in this world, "Will i have a happy family? Will I be on my deathbed without regrets? Did I really make the best with the time I had?" Also, questions such as, "Whats the point of hoping for a better world when the world we live in is so fucked up? Praying can only go so far when racism still infests our society. Where is God/Hope when my loved ones died?"
These questions arise from the absence of Hope. People, including myself, want to see, feel, and know that Hope exist as a real and tangible life goal as opposed to an abstract way of life.
In honor of the religious events and existence of colonized oppression, I found this spoken word piece that exemplifies some of the internal struggles I deal with when it comes to religion and colonized oppression. Enjoy
Looking in the mirror,
-DM
Yes!
I finally moved all my virtual belongings and moved on over to blogspot! This is the OFFICIAL first post on blogspot. The previous postings were some of my favorite posts from my previous blog, danny_oso.livejournal.com. Feel free to check out the blog, or the postings below!
So I start writing just as the trees begin to blossom and the tempature begins to escalate! Spring is here! Spring is not only a time for leaves to grow and bodies of water to thaw out, it is a time to come out of the cold state of mind that winter trapped us in and begin to free ourselves from shortened days and heavy coats!
Spring is also a symbolic interpretation of starting over. Still having the roots and values as always, but branching out and blossoming into the next step in our lives. A time to try new things, taste different spices, learn new games, and meet new friends.
It is also a time to drink Mimosas on sunday afternoons and getting out of work when the sun is still out!
Let's see what is in store for me this Spring!!
Spring cleaning,
-DM
I remember trying to look out the window of the 1984 standard Ford pick up truck
On the bumpy dirt road me and my parents were on
All I was able to see was the never ending sea of cactus’s
I was five years old the first time I went Valparaiso Zacatecas
A place I knew about in old white and brown pictures of
Old profile and
wedding pictures
dating back to my great great grandparents in our photo album
right before the page of my dad with his
boot cut hippies jeans and his fluorescent green and blue slim silk shirt that was too cool to be buttoned all the way
“Porque tienen luces los nopales” I asked my mom
don’t get me wrong
I had seen Cactus’ before in my
dad’s favorite clint eastwood movies or
when my mom would put them in my frijoles
but these were different
these had what looked like
bright red lightbulbs that
blanket the gorgeous green cactus field
as if it was christmas eve during the daytime.
“Mijo, esas se llaman tunas” my mother told me as she noticed
my confused American look trying to figure out what were these zacatecan delicasees
TUNAS?
Now I was really confused
Those bright red lightbulbs looked nothing like what my mom would pour out of those small cans
to mix with tomatoes, celery, onion, mayo and mustard
My parents were half amuzed
at my confused logic and
half surprised that their five year old son
had never tried the fruit that gave them memories of growing up
When we got to my grandparents house
my mom told them about how I thought tunas where lightbulbs!
And with a calm smile
my grandmother took my five year old hand and
We took a seat on their porch
overlooking the ceros, nopales, and empty dirt roads
She started telling me stories of
how when HER mother was pregnant with her
she would eat a tunas every evening after
she had dinner
in order for her to end a good meal
with a treat.
And about how MY grandfather
would come and visit with a
batch of freshly cut tunas for her mother
in order to let them to talk near the house door
And how HER great grandfather
would treat her and her siblings with
ice shavings and tunas every time she would visit him.
She handed me a piece of tuna that
her experienced hands cut
and placed it on
my five year old hand
and as I looked down at the tuna
the sight of all the seed grossed me out
Looking at my disgusted
my grandmother told me that the seeds
were good for me and
that the more seeds each tuna had
the stronger I was going to be when I grew up.
Told me that she used to play a game with my mother that
her great grandmother taught her
Every evening they would sit outside on the porch and
each would peel and eat a tuna
They would each count the number of seeds each tuna had
as it passed their tongue
They would tally them each day and at the end of the week
the winner would get to pick their favorite song
so HER grandfather can sing it to them.
Being so excited about this new game
I ran into the living room where my mother was and
I told her I learned a new game and wanted to play with her
The last time my mother played this
was 27 years ago before she left with my father to el norte
I could tell she had a burst of emotions cuz
I saw her and my grandmother exchange smiles
as tears started flowing out of their eyes.
There we sat
me, my mom, and grandmother
three very different generations
letting our counting do all the talking between us
just like they did years ago
Now
everytime I go home around late august
my parents, myself, and my 7 year old brother
sit on our front porch overlooking
pavement, cars and onlookers
Counting tunas
At the end of each count
it doesn’t matter wins
as long as we get to do this again tomorrow
-DM
- Mood:
hungry
those were the first words that my Chicano studies professor, Alfred Arteaga, told our class as he walked in on the first day of class. It was a chicano music class. I took it because it was a guaranteed "A" in the class, never knowing the wealth of knowledge that I would learn at the end of it. At the time, he was my favorite professor because of his chill and layed back attitude to everything. He was all about music and poetry. I later found out he was an accomplished poet and used to be a professor for the english department here at CAL. I remember him at one point in the class saying that would have to miss some days of class due to his heart condition. He told that that in 1999, he had a heart attack, and that summer of 2005, he had another. During the class, his family actually reached out to us telling us that our professor was going to go to thailand to receive stem cell treatment, a procedure that was not cleared to conduct in the united states.
After that class, I really did not follow up with this professor's condition, as I was distracted with other classes and campus activities. I all knew is that even though his health was not well, he still taught chicano music every fall.
Today, as I was leaving the alumni house, I saw a copy of the daily cal and decided to take it and read it on my way back home. After cruising through the rent stabilization candidate article and the latest news about Cal football, I saw a headline that made me stop where I was in utter shock. "Poet, Professor of Ethnic Studies Dies". My heart began to race and automatically I thought of professor Arteaga. I continued to read the article on page 3 and the first sentence was, "Alfred Arteaga, a UC Berkeley professor of Chicano and ethnic studies, died July 4 in Santa Clara of a heart attack. He was 58." I felt my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach and a cold chill shock my body. I had to sit down. As I sat in the middle of lower sproul, I sunk my head in between my arms and felt the same dreadful feeling I felt once before when i heard the news of other loved ones pass away. The feeling of not being able to catch a breath as my heart races.
After a couple of minutes, I looked up, took a deep breath, and started getting flashbacks of his witty one liners and his sarcastic comments about how people used to dress. I got up, smiling, and continued my walk home. After getting the courage to continue the article, I realized all the amazing things he did not only on campus, but in his personal life. He was a great man and he will be missed by not only his family and myself, but by every student who ever enjoyed his lectures on tuesday afternoons. I will miss you Arteaga!!!
(Here is the daily cal article if you want to read it. its very good)
http://www.dailycal.org/article/102204/poet_professor_of_ethnic_studies_dies
Remembering a true hero,
-DM
After that class, I really did not follow up with this professor's condition, as I was distracted with other classes and campus activities. I all knew is that even though his health was not well, he still taught chicano music every fall.
Today, as I was leaving the alumni house, I saw a copy of the daily cal and decided to take it and read it on my way back home. After cruising through the rent stabilization candidate article and the latest news about Cal football, I saw a headline that made me stop where I was in utter shock. "Poet, Professor of Ethnic Studies Dies". My heart began to race and automatically I thought of professor Arteaga. I continued to read the article on page 3 and the first sentence was, "Alfred Arteaga, a UC Berkeley professor of Chicano and ethnic studies, died July 4 in Santa Clara of a heart attack. He was 58." I felt my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach and a cold chill shock my body. I had to sit down. As I sat in the middle of lower sproul, I sunk my head in between my arms and felt the same dreadful feeling I felt once before when i heard the news of other loved ones pass away. The feeling of not being able to catch a breath as my heart races.
After a couple of minutes, I looked up, took a deep breath, and started getting flashbacks of his witty one liners and his sarcastic comments about how people used to dress. I got up, smiling, and continued my walk home. After getting the courage to continue the article, I realized all the amazing things he did not only on campus, but in his personal life. He was a great man and he will be missed by not only his family and myself, but by every student who ever enjoyed his lectures on tuesday afternoons. I will miss you Arteaga!!!
(Here is the daily cal article if you want to read it. its very good)
http://www.dailycal.org/article/102
Remembering a true hero,
-DM
So senior year of high school, one of my friends, which i will name "Corona"always wrote lyrics for his "band". A;; the lyrics were ether about death or other dark themes. Once our english teacher, Mr. V, caught him writing lyrics instead of doing a writing assignment and made corona let him see what he was writing. When Mr. V asked him why he spent his time writing dark poetry, corona's answer was that that is what he is good at (he also made it a point to say that he was not writing poetry, he was writing death metal lyrics).
I still remember almost word for word the response that Mr. V gave him. he said, "Corona, you think you are writing lyrics? you are just writing words that deal with death and rhyming them together. What do you know about death? Someone talking how they die is one of the most easiest themes to write about. No one dies and lives to tell about it. You should try writing on LOVE. LOVE is one of the most hardest themes to write about. SO many try, but many fail. Everyone has experienced love in some sort of way. Writing about it, however, makes you vulnerable and exposed to the world. Are you willing to take that challenge? or are you afraid of exposing yourself and therefore, you write about non challenging themes such as death. Take a chance and write about love"
I really didnt understand what he was saying (i was too busy laughing at corona cuz Mr. V put him on blast in front of the class) until recently when I started writing about love. He is sooooo right! Love is so hard to rite about, especially when writing about things you are going through. You are left vulnerable to the world. It is like a memory stamped onto a stream of words.
Thank you Mr. V! It took me a while to understand what you were talking about, but i finally understood what you taught us that day
with lots of love,
-DM
I still remember almost word for word the response that Mr. V gave him. he said, "Corona, you think you are writing lyrics? you are just writing words that deal with death and rhyming them together. What do you know about death? Someone talking how they die is one of the most easiest themes to write about. No one dies and lives to tell about it. You should try writing on LOVE. LOVE is one of the most hardest themes to write about. SO many try, but many fail. Everyone has experienced love in some sort of way. Writing about it, however, makes you vulnerable and exposed to the world. Are you willing to take that challenge? or are you afraid of exposing yourself and therefore, you write about non challenging themes such as death. Take a chance and write about love"
I really didnt understand what he was saying (i was too busy laughing at corona cuz Mr. V put him on blast in front of the class) until recently when I started writing about love. He is sooooo right! Love is so hard to rite about, especially when writing about things you are going through. You are left vulnerable to the world. It is like a memory stamped onto a stream of words.
Thank you Mr. V! It took me a while to understand what you were talking about, but i finally understood what you taught us that day
with lots of love,
-DM
The other day I was caught in the rain
No umbrella
No sweater
No ride
Not even a prayer
The beauty of the soft drizzle glazing through the light illuminated by streetlights caught my attention ever so gracefully
The rain fell continuously
Without breaks without stop
And as I looked up
I felt the rain hit my face
Each drop hitting my face and running down my cheeks like tears
I was reminded of rainy nights as a child
I was reminded of my mother
My mother who stood in tears in front of the window those cold raining nights
cuz father decided to spend his nights blighting his body in alcohol
attempting to forget
to forget the cold winter night my grandfather was found dead while my grandmother was sleeping with another man
And so I stood there manifesting my parents pain
Having to shed tears that once flowed from there faces like rain
I need shelter from the tears
WE ALL NEED SHELTER FROM THE RAIN
Father understand that my grandmother’s faith was to her lover
That my grandfather’s death could not be delayed any longer
Do not let losing your father make me lose mine
Mother please understand that my father is out at night because he can not bare to cry in front of you
Do not let his long nights make my nights with you shorter
I do not want our family to be under this thunderstorm of guilt and hate any longer
I stand here in the rain
In tears
Realizing families will always be caught in the rain
Caught with fear and hate before they get caught in love
…………How can we wait for a sunny day when we can not love ourselves
I ask you
Mother
Father
help me
Like a bird with wounded wings
I need to heal
I need to heal from every argument you both had
From every time I sat between your silence waiting for one of you to give me comfort
I need to heal
I want to stop feeling hate and revengeful because I did not get the love I deserved as a child
I want to know that regardless of those routine fights
Regardless of those routine sights of sore eyes looking at me
That you two still love each other
that you both still love me
I need the love from my mother and father
So I can at least imagine what a sunny day could be
-DM
No umbrella
No sweater
No ride
Not even a prayer
The beauty of the soft drizzle glazing through the light illuminated by streetlights caught my attention ever so gracefully
The rain fell continuously
Without breaks without stop
And as I looked up
I felt the rain hit my face
Each drop hitting my face and running down my cheeks like tears
I was reminded of rainy nights as a child
I was reminded of my mother
My mother who stood in tears in front of the window those cold raining nights
cuz father decided to spend his nights blighting his body in alcohol
attempting to forget
to forget the cold winter night my grandfather was found dead while my grandmother was sleeping with another man
And so I stood there manifesting my parents pain
Having to shed tears that once flowed from there faces like rain
I need shelter from the tears
WE ALL NEED SHELTER FROM THE RAIN
Father understand that my grandmother’s faith was to her lover
That my grandfather’s death could not be delayed any longer
Do not let losing your father make me lose mine
Mother please understand that my father is out at night because he can not bare to cry in front of you
Do not let his long nights make my nights with you shorter
I do not want our family to be under this thunderstorm of guilt and hate any longer
I stand here in the rain
In tears
Realizing families will always be caught in the rain
Caught with fear and hate before they get caught in love
…………How can we wait for a sunny day when we can not love ourselves
I ask you
Mother
Father
help me
Like a bird with wounded wings
I need to heal
I need to heal from every argument you both had
From every time I sat between your silence waiting for one of you to give me comfort
I need to heal
I want to stop feeling hate and revengeful because I did not get the love I deserved as a child
I want to know that regardless of those routine fights
Regardless of those routine sights of sore eyes looking at me
That you two still love each other
that you both still love me
I need the love from my mother and father
So I can at least imagine what a sunny day could be
-DM
- Mood: melancholy
So I talked to my mom a lot on the phone (since it is difficult for me to go back down to southern cali). I always talk to her about everything that I do with regards to school and External stuff. I tell her how i go to sacramento or local actions and rally and protest against the budget cuts.
Today I was talking to her and she told me that my brother was part of protest at his school against the budget cuts. In case you don't know, my brother is six years old (7 in July) and is in first grade. She told me that his teachers were going to protest and that he, along with about 5 other classmates went to the streets (my mom was there with him as well) to protest and rally against the budget cuts. I dont know why but something in me got really happy. Everytime I talk at rallies or o the regents, i mention my brother and how he is just in first grade and that with these fee increases, he will never be able to attend a school that he wants when it comes time for him to go into higher education.
My mom told me that it was an amazing sight to see elementary school teachers, students, and parents hit the streets. She told me that my brother had a sign that said "dont cut my education". After I talked to my mom, she pput my brother on the phone and he told me that he didnt want to "get his education cut cuz he already got his finger accidently cut by a knife and that hurt". He said, "I do not want to see my education cut by arnold cheeseburger (he actually said cheeseburger cuz he doesnt know how to pronounce his last name) cuz then I wont be able to be like you and go to berkly Danny". I sort of got a lil choked up cuz i never imagined my 6 year old brother rallying and protesting the budget cuts.
I know shit is difficult right now cuz the budget doesnt seem to be helping education anytime soon, but my brother is really getting involved because of this. If this is what he is doing at age 6, i am excited and scared (in a good way) to see what he will do in the future!
looking forward to the future generation,
-DM
Today I was talking to her and she told me that my brother was part of protest at his school against the budget cuts. In case you don't know, my brother is six years old (7 in July) and is in first grade. She told me that his teachers were going to protest and that he, along with about 5 other classmates went to the streets (my mom was there with him as well) to protest and rally against the budget cuts. I dont know why but something in me got really happy. Everytime I talk at rallies or o the regents, i mention my brother and how he is just in first grade and that with these fee increases, he will never be able to attend a school that he wants when it comes time for him to go into higher education.
My mom told me that it was an amazing sight to see elementary school teachers, students, and parents hit the streets. She told me that my brother had a sign that said "dont cut my education". After I talked to my mom, she pput my brother on the phone and he told me that he didnt want to "get his education cut cuz he already got his finger accidently cut by a knife and that hurt". He said, "I do not want to see my education cut by arnold cheeseburger (he actually said cheeseburger cuz he doesnt know how to pronounce his last name) cuz then I wont be able to be like you and go to berkly Danny". I sort of got a lil choked up cuz i never imagined my 6 year old brother rallying and protesting the budget cuts.
I know shit is difficult right now cuz the budget doesnt seem to be helping education anytime soon, but my brother is really getting involved because of this. If this is what he is doing at age 6, i am excited and scared (in a good way) to see what he will do in the future!
looking forward to the future generation,
-DM
No cars
Only myself with the moon and a cigarette
I inhale fast so the smoke can clog my inner fears
And slowly exhale my inhibitions
My eyes follow the glaze of the silk soft smoke that leave my lips
I can’t stop and wonder why you hurt me
It was just days ago that we were in this same parking lot
Reciting words our hearts could only understand
As we protected ourselves from the cold
With only the moon to guide our way
Now you leave me
Alone
With only the cold winter air to nurture my wounded heart
With no explanation
No history to archive from
No future to look forward to
Nothing
And now I am here alone in this empty parking lot at midnight
No cars
Only myself with the moon and a cigarette
I inhale fast so the smoke can clog my inner fears
And slowly exhale my inhibitions
I bring in this new day just like this parking lot
.....empty
-DM
- Mood: lonely
I know that this is probably one of the most difficult moments in your life - a time when both your physical and mental capabilities are tested. As someone who ran for the same position last year, I understand what you may be going through right now. This is why I writing this letter to let you know that I am here for you. I know at times you may feel alone or overwhelmed with the work it takes to become EAVP, but trust me Dionne, there is no one better than you to carry out this role. I gave you my endorsement for your candidacy to become the next External Affairs Vice President of the Associated Students of the University of California not simply because we both ran with CalSERVE or because you happened to work this year in the External Affairs Vice President's Office. I gave you my endorsement because I strongly believe that you are ready to take on the role of External Affairs Vice President. You have the experience and strong ability to make effective change for the Berkeley campus. You have helped inform the ASUC and the Berkeley community about what happens at city council and city commission meetings. You advocate on behalf of the student voice at UC Regents meetings. You give unwavering presence in Sacramento and Washington D.C. and you are the representative in local, state, and national media. There is no one better fit for this position.
As I reflect back at your involvement, I still remember your first voter that you registered during the 2006 elections, the first time you were a whiteliner at a regents meeting at UCLA, your first lobby visit to Sacramento and Washington D.C., and your first student recruitment meeting for city commissions. You have attended and facilitated workshops in multiple state and national conferences. You have really amazed me. One special moment that I remember was in Pittsburgh during USSA's annual congress. You went into that conference knowing very little about national organizing, and came out of that conference being a voting board member as a caucus facilitator. After you were elected to be the next National Asian Pacific American Student Caucus Chair for the United States Students Association, you came back to the Berkeley campus and brought the knowledge of nationwide organizing to your community. During your term as a board member for a national student run organization, you have impressed and motivated not only myself, but your community and peers as well. I can see parallels of your advocacy work from this year and the potential role as EAVP for next year.
You have come a long way to get to this point. The qualifications that you bring to the EAVP far outweigh not only any of the current EAVP candidates, but any candidate that has ever ran for EAVP. From a voice of experience, I want to wish you luck. These next couple of days are going to be rough, but I cannot see anyone else better fit for the challenge. When you joined the EAVP team as the Chief of Staff, I knew that you had the capacity to help the people in the EAVP office feel invested and motivated to continue the work that they do for the Berkeley community. What I did not know was how your presence in the office would illuminate your characteristics and abilities as not only a leader, but a wonderful friend to everyone on our staff. You embody someone who organizes for students as opposed to a personal agenda. You know that this process is not only about getting elected, but about making sure that you can carry out all your campaign promises and making your term as effective as possible.
I was truly blessed to have you as my Chief of Staff and now I am truly blessed to have you carry on next year as EAVP. As I end this letter I want to tell you that I have so much love for you and that I am here for you throughout this process and in future plans that you do. Good luck my friend.
-Danny Montes
- Mood:
high
So, I have been meaning to do this for a while. I have recently been trying to find an outlet for random ass shit that I feel. I really dont care who reads this, it is more of an outlet for me. So I guess to begin this, i should just explain some things:
WHY GET A LIVE JOURNAL?
- Because I am very attached to my computer. I am always on gchat, facebook, bspace, news websites, and stupid computer games. I can easily open a tab and then just write shit that I feel.
WHAT DOES THE USER NAME MEAN?
- Simple explanation: Danny = my name / oso = bear in spanish. Complicated explanation: So, I think it started my second year in college when my roomates would make fun of me because of my sleeping habits. I would fall asleep at the most awkward times, during movies, right after eating, on stairs, on the floor, in cars, etc. At this time I was also a big fan of eating salmon. So they said I was a bear because all i did was sleep and eat fish. Most recently, Dionne nicknamed me dannybear because i look like a bear (i dont know if that is a good or bad thing), and it stuck to the point where people we worked with and through UCSA started calling me that (and most recently calling me "brother bear" because of some similiar features that I have with my friend greg. Throughout this whole time, I really didnt like it. But as time passes by, it has grown on me, so I will embrace it and use it as a form of identity for the purposes of this journal. Another reason for the "oso" is because of the softball team I am in. We are called "osos".
I will also be posting some random pieces that I have been meaning to write, so be open to reading some poetic writing!
-DM
WHY GET A LIVE JOURNAL?
- Because I am very attached to my computer. I am always on gchat, facebook, bspace, news websites, and stupid computer games. I can easily open a tab and then just write shit that I feel.
WHAT DOES THE USER NAME MEAN?
- Simple explanation: Danny = my name / oso = bear in spanish. Complicated explanation: So, I think it started my second year in college when my roomates would make fun of me because of my sleeping habits. I would fall asleep at the most awkward times, during movies, right after eating, on stairs, on the floor, in cars, etc. At this time I was also a big fan of eating salmon. So they said I was a bear because all i did was sleep and eat fish. Most recently, Dionne nicknamed me dannybear because i look like a bear (i dont know if that is a good or bad thing), and it stuck to the point where people we worked with and through UCSA started calling me that (and most recently calling me "brother bear" because of some similiar features that I have with my friend greg. Throughout this whole time, I really didnt like it. But as time passes by, it has grown on me, so I will embrace it and use it as a form of identity for the purposes of this journal. Another reason for the "oso" is because of the softball team I am in. We are called "osos".
I will also be posting some random pieces that I have been meaning to write, so be open to reading some poetic writing!
-DM
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