Helena

Chaco, CJ Butler (nephew and invaluable chief technician on this tour), and I pulled all of the gear out of the truck and trailer in the evening to see what we had and what we needed.  Old batteries had to go, mantels needed to be bought, missing outdoor shower found, fishing gear box lost, so it was pretty much the usual, though it was the first time on a camping trip a broom and mop had made the list, but the Silver Bullet needs care and attention.  Fishing licenses need to be bought, reels strung up, and a hundred other last minute items of work and pleasure checked off today.

Tomorrow finds us with an even larger crew heading for Secky’s Sweet Spot a piece along the blue ribbon trout stream where the Silver Bullet will come to rest after 4 years of post-Katrina service for staff and volunteers and a year of helping CJ and a buddy find a soft berth in the move from Conway, Arkansas to Denver, Colorado.  Assuming we can get all of this up 15 miles of dirt road and across a wooden bridge (how wide and how much weight), level the ground and the trailer, then this 1978 Airstream International Sovereign will be good to NOT go and available for service as an annual fishing camp, store house, and guest lodge for friends, family, and fellow travelers savvy and swell enough to know Secky or me.  That’s the plan.  Fingers crossed.

Cell phone coverage ends at the highway.  For 4 or 5 days, the longest time in years, we’ll be off the grid.  Internet absent, blackberry turned into an alarm clock, and nothing but us and all that makes Montana special.  As the younger members of this tribe say:  sweet!

In checking off my list before going into radio silence, I had to think about how much my buddy, Glenn Beck, would be missing me.  A couple of days ago driving through Wyoming, a friend in Los Angeles had taken a day off and was surfing TV channels, and started texting me as he came across Beck.  The messages were classic:

“Beck has u on the top of the blackboard again”

“Sweet Jesus!  I had no idea u orchestrated water bottle throwing in Phoenix this weekend.”

“Apparently u have ur hands in Greece uprising too.  I suspected as much.”

What could I do, but laugh, a dangerous man driving a Suburban and pulling an Airstream across my birth state of Wyoming.  I had to text back that I would have told my friend all of these stories but couldn’t because if he was caught, I didn’t want him tortured.   The headlines in Sheridan had been about Wyoming’s ranking as the most conservative state in the country, but being conservative and being a Glenn Beck style instigator and hater are really two very different things.  In Wyoming folks might be on the right side of the highway, but they were unfailingly helpful, friendly, and welcoming in the way that is common in the West (and South!).

I won’t miss the daily Google alerts reporting the Glenn gymnastics of disjointed connections and conspiracies, rattling the already angry, unstable out there.  The gyrations around the California shooter and shootout involving the Tides Network have been chilling to many, though it’s all catnip to Beck and his ilk.  We are obviously waiting for god knows what to happen and it won’t be pretty and there will be some “oh, I’m sorry” and “we should have seen it coming,” but that will be too late.  All of that will be as effective as the folks who argue that there need to be apologies to Sherrod and ACORN, as if it matters to her or it could bring ACORN back from the dead.

I’ll just dial it all down along the stream side, wet a line, build a fire, talk about times past and times to come, and let ‘em wonder about what ideas and plans might be churning to let us get some justice down the road here and abroad, so that in the words of the song, “we can give ‘em something to talk about.”

At the end of the day, there’s talking about it and there’s doing.  They can keep talking, we’ll keep doing, remembering always that “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.”

New Orleans

First, I have to say in the main that many Customs officers were great.  The only exception being at the Canadian border, but you figure.  I think they are bored and just looking for action, but that’s another story.  Mostly the officers were frank and forthcoming.  Many would laugh and be more candid than I’m sure the rules allowed.  Once they had my SSN, several said it was clear that I was not the person being hunted, but, shrug, sorry about that, you still have to go to secondary.  Pretty much you have to be a prick to work there it seemed to me, but it is probably the same guys on a different rotation, and, hey, they are looking for trouble.

Many knew ACORN and were big admirers.  One asked for my autograph.  Another doing a very careful luggage inspection came on an old business card and asked if he could keep it.  Being picked up in Buffalo by Judy Duncan from ACORN Canada, who had a similar experience, when asked to state her business, said she was going to pick me up and that we were with ACORN International, and said in the famous line she can now deliver flawlessly:  “Ma’am, we know ACORN.”

Mainly it’s a main in the butt though, even if there are some laughs, and even if I do understand that the price of international travel is high alert.

But, life within the bureaucracy is perhaps more bizarre.  All of my Custom’s buddies would give me a form and say that I should reach out and get it straightened out.  Ok!  So you go on-line, you do a PDF of your passport and state the problem, you get a number in case you die waiting, and then nothing whatsoever happens for months.  Houston, where the Customs folks are the friendliest, would laugh because they could see I had made the appeal on their computer screens, but everyone knew there was no timeline.

Finally I got a letter from a Jim Kennedy with “Traveler Redress Inquiry Program.”  The letter was the most classic piece of Orwellian doublespeak I have ever seen, because it said ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER about my problem.  In fact one could say that the only thing it said is how I could go back on the website and start my inquiry all over again.  The only way I know that the letter had any importance is the fact that I have not been stopped since May 21^st, the date of the letter.

Here are the guts of this letter so you can share the full opaqueness of such an official response:

“We have completed our review of this matter.  I appreciate this opportunity to respond to your concerns.

“DHS makes every effort to process travelers in the most efficient and professional manner possible without compromising our primary mission of protecting our Nation’s borders.  In an effort to remain ever-vigilant and safeguard the American public, our ports operate under intense conditions.

“While I understand that these inspections can sometimes seem time-intensive, the effective protection of our Nation’s borders depends upon the thoroughness of this process.  It is not our intent to subject the traveling public to unwarranted scrutiny.  Occasionally, however, DHS may inconvenience law-abiding persons in our efforts to detect, deter, and mitigate threats to our homeland caused by the few individuals who are involve in illicit activities.  We are aware that this process may sometimes be stressful, but in such cases we rely on the patience, cooperation, and understanding of travelers to ensure the effective protection of our borders.

“When DHS receives inquires such as yours, we conduct a thorough review of the matter.  In cases where it is determined that a change or correction of records is warranted, be assured that such changes or corrections are made.  If you continue to have concerns during CBP processing, we recommend that you request to speak to a supervisor on-site.”

Etc.  So the comfort is in the very indirect “be assured that such changes or corrections are made.”  I now get to carry with me this dog eared letter just like the one from a New Orleans hospital saying I have to have knee surgery that I toted to four or five draft physicals in different cities in the Vietnam era.

It’s a relief to have relief though even with no understand of WTF, but I was left still wondering:  what’s up with all of those hyphens?

We had trooped out to the Municipality of Nezahualcoyotl (or Neza for short) to get a closer feel for the organizing projects that Suyapa, as head organizer of ACORN Mexico, was mapping out.  In a surprising development we got a personal tour of the history of the city itself since the first rough squatting occurred almost 50 years earlier.  It is rare that one can trace the struggles of squatters or settlers, as I would prefer to call them, so clearly, but in the cultural building one could see the time with the State of Mexico had finally given the city a formal charter to the time that water finally came in and streets were paved.  I say State of Mexico because Neza is one of scores of communities in the sprawling megapolis of Mexico City.  An hour and a half outside of the Zocalo, we had crossed the boundaries of the Districto Federal which encompasses the formal city, much like the District of Columbia holds Washington, and had moved to one of the many states of Mexico and in fact THE State of Mexico, which holds the city of Neza as well as the teeming jovenes barrios where we were lining out our work out of the city but firmly in the state.

One area of 180,000 houses where we are moving forward in the Neza municipality (for American readers, let’s pretend this is like a county or parish outside of the city limits) had been inundated by flooding from heavy rains leaving tens of thousands homeless and destitute.  But, we could have pinning the tail anywhere and come up with ten areas as large with as many issues and demands.   Unless we can move thousands of members to carry the weight, there is no way to even imagine the capacity that we would need to be able to organize in the megaslums.

The rest of the night and most of another day were spent making plans for exactly how to do that with allies, friends, and others.  Exhilarating and exhausting!

Suyapa having worked with ACORN International in both Tijuana and in setting up Honduras, told a joke about being in Mexico and feeling like a street person:  no phone, no computer, no internet, no office, and hardly a place to lay her head.  The difference is that she has a plan and the courage to pursue it here in the largest city in the world.  Now that does take your breath away and send you on the road, humbled and unafraid.

Mexico City

The Universidad Obrera is a small, public college that has existed since  about the Mexican Revolution more than 70 years ago.  Currently they are having some difficulty funding issues that revolve around former leadership of the school, but meant that as we met with Sr. Sanchez, she and the other professors and researchers here were unpaid, computers were gone, internet connections had been shut off, and they were managing on shoe strings, literally.

To the point though the additional thoughts she shared on the Wal-Mart impact on agriculture and particularly its propensity to import goods and take advantage of tax codes, was of interest to our our India FDI Watch coalition which is right now contending with governmental efforts to once again reform foreign investment rules at the peril of workers in the cities and farmers in India.  Ironically, the biggest claim the multi-nationals make in India is that modern agriculture and distribution impacts on the supply chain will increase the wages of ag workers.  Sr. Sanchez says the research in Mexico is finding the opposite with Wal-Mart.  And, this doesn’t even factor in the number of informal workers that Wal-Mart uses in Mexico, which Sr. Sanchez and others believe is illegal under Mexican law.

Additionally we talked about the impact of remittances and how to lower these costs which has been an issue for ACORN International.  Their research argues that remittances, even today in the depressed economy, are the #1 economic engine in Mexico, as opposed to the government’s arguments that natural resource extraction (oil) and tourism come ahead on the list.  We talked at length about the varying bank charges on both sides of the border.  We are hopeful that once this current crisis works its way out which seems soon, that a partnership between Universidad Obrera and ACORN International can finally put together the research we need to push banks around the world to finally do the right thing with governments finally providing the regulations that bring them in line.

Arizona had to be on the agenda of course.  The news of a DOJ lawsuit hardly seemed to move anyone we spoke with in Mexico.  The lines are simple.  They see the story much differently and find mainly hate in the eyes of the argument.  There’s a lot more to be said about this in coming days.

Tegucigalpa and Mexico City

It was a little more complicated than that from what I could tell.  The bank  had been swept up in a public/private takeover which was going to require ACORN International to do a fair amount of research and figure out, but especially since the golpe de estadio, it was no longer a worker and poor family friendly institution.  Even with the political  turmoil which only exacerbated the worldwide Great Recession, the bank had now become unwilling to meet and was maintaining interest rates that were way out of whack in these times.

What about the unions?  Had they moved their money out of the bank and stopped endorsing the bank once the private interests took over?  The answer according to the organizers seemed to be “No.”  How could  they not be ashamed of what was being done with their money now?  They would be according to the people I talked to but no one had looked hard enough at their practices yet.

This might be some leverage in moving forward to improve living conditions in the colonias with an active campaign and care to avoid the political repression that seemed to weigh so heavily on every sentence and each part of every conversation.  Yes, the organizers were saying, it could be done, si se puede, but we would have to be very, very careful.  People could be killed.

This is not the normal nature of an organizing and campaign conversation obviously!

Walking around the colonias, the huge towers for TIGO, the telecommunications giant were everywhere in the middle of the barrio?  What were they doing?

Looking at the waste water runoff, I found myself looking down the mountain at a runway of the international airport.  I talked to the organizers about a giant banner that we could put up and take down and spread around to sent our message clearly and carefully:  Beinvenidos Turistas!  You are drinking our shit!  In Spanish of course, but powerfully making the point that without potable water or any sewerage facility, the runoff from the colonias was going right down to the airport grounds.

Even with the government paralyzed, the Banco de Los Trabajadores could put up the loans for housing improvements needed in the colonias and TIGO and the Airport, managed by the Swiss incidentally, could guarantee them.

It would take careful planning, lots of work, and great care, but there were many ways to skin this cat!  And, that’s what community organizing is all about!

Tegucigalpa

The officers were introduced and one of them, Maria Amalia Reyes Cartagena, an imposing, live wire was the elected Organizador.  To begin the meeting she asked each and everyone of the women to introduce themselves.  One after another, each stood, including the 5 or 6 men in the group, and introduced themselves by name and the name of the family they represented.  It was short, sweet, and powerful.  The group even had a rule that anyone could represent a family, including a child, as long as the family was represented.  This was an area where 15 years ago the families had squatted and by hard work and constant struggle had gained title to 90% of the families after the land they squatted had been flipped to a political favorite.  Now they wanted running water, access to education for their kids, a way to deal with the 10% who were delinquent, and accessing resources to improve their houses.

I might have thought this was the typical urban slum of 2000 families where ACORN International routinely worked, except that almost every question I asked about “rules and rights” met a locked door, because it came right up to the problem of the total polarization and dysfunction of Honduran government since the golpe de statio (hit against the state or coupe d’etat). One of the reasons the meeting organizer was so respected it turned out was that she had been kidnapped by the police and not released for a week!  They kept proposing that the only way they would be able to solve the issues in this small slum would be to go directly to seek a special law in the National Congress.  Huh?  What about the city?  Well, yes, they were part of the city, but.  What do you get for your taxes?  Nothing?  But if they don’t pay, interest is added.  Laws were on the books from what they were saying in order to be ignored. Over and over it went like this.  An action was in motion for July 13^th.  The numbers took work.  It turned out that the meeting we were having was itself illegal, because no more than 20 people are allowed to assemble since the golpe, so we were now breaking the law.

My head was spinning.  Tactically should they continue to press for legal enforcement, or were we now in a situation where only resistance was appropriate.

20 or more people joined us to walk up the rutted road paths of the colonias and jump over the running raw sewage.  At one end of the barrio we looked over the runway of the Swiss run airport now.  In the middle of the colonias we could see towers everywhere owed by Tigo, the telecom conglomerate.  Maybe we would have to push in a direction where laws still had some impact?

Marcala

All of this was good because we had spent hours the night before with managers and lawyers drinking coffee and trying to sort out what it took to get a better price for the women of the coop and how a partnership might work.  Hours later much was left for today.

The coffee market along with the rest of the economy is down and hard pressed.  Though all of the coffee is fair trade certified (lot of issues here and not a simple matter) and organic, the claims of better prices are hard to achieve even though the farmers are forced to expend huge hours of additional labor to bring the coffee to market.  The coop had added members since my last visit and now with Doris Guiterrez again, Dine’ Butler, and Emily Atterberry, we were trying to finally see face-to-face if we could figure out a way to forge a mutual partnership.  The coop felt they could produce six shipping containers filled with bags of coffee this season.  As always they started with no contracts but needed to make them by October for credit to bring the crop in.  Their main buyers had been in Germany the last several years where they sold two containers.  The Germans had offered to increase their price from $200 USD per bag to $220 and buy the whole harvest, but COMUCAP was uncertain and didn’t want to lock in a price if there was a better one coming in the market.  Even $220 per bag only would the farmers a small increase.  The price per pound for the coop was about $1.29 last season and even a 10% bump would only leave them around $1.41 per pound, even when such coffee was commanding anywhere from $9 to $13/pound in coffee shops in New York, Toronto, and San Francisco.

They needed to make more, we needed to make some which would support ACORN International’s organizing in Central America, and somehow we had to convince the market that this was best and would work for everyone.  The math running in my head throughout the evening was depressing.  We would need to get close to $250 per bag, and business being business, even if fair should be fair, it was hard to practically imagine the market allowing us a 25% premium on the year before.  The COMUCAP farmers and the ACORN International members had to do better, even if they could not necessarily do well.

The costs were stifling and the consumers were confused as well.  The certifiers were insistent with increasing mandates and requirements it seemed to me, but they could not guarantee the market or the price premium for the extra work.  Yet they required the coops to pay for the certification, and as middle men they were doing well.  The consumers had no clue how to sort all of this out, so the fuzzy distinctions between organic, shade grown, fair trade, and certified fair trade were so much gobbledy good, when the consumer was already paying close to $2 a cup to feel better about it all and get a shot of caffeine to the system.

Thank goodness for the breeze in the mountains, because there may not be enough hours in the day to sort all of this out so that it works for everybody.

Houston

Which is why, hardly a week ago, we launched the Commonwealth Games Campaign and asked friends and allies to join with us and sign our petition at www.commonwealthgamescampaign.org with many others and write to your local games organizing committee and the High Commissioner in your country or directly to the Queen.  Thousands of families have been displaced already.  The livelihoods of waste pickers, bicycle rickshaw pullers and many others are threatened.    We need your help!

Quickly we have gotten some support from our friends in labor, especially in Canada.  The British Columbia Government Employees Union (BCGEU) with its 60,000+ members was first to endorse a resolution of support followed by the Prince George Labour Council, and now pending in the Victoria Labour Council and the Toronto & York Labour Council.  We are appealing for help everywhere!

Here is a story that ran in Delhi passed on to me by Dharmendra Kumar, our Delhi director, which makes the case painfully well:

Gloomy face of glittering Delhi
By Gaurav Sharma
14 Jun 2010

While the government authorities are spending billions to beautify Delhi for the Commonwealth Games 2010, does any one care for the millions of poor living in pitiable conditions in the Capital’s slums?

Delhi’s poor are forced to live in such terrible conditions
(photo: Gaurav Sharma)

Just a stone’s throw away from Shadipur Metro Station in New Delhi is an elongated slum cluster Kathputli Colony. Whiff of fetid air and stench of stale urine assail your senses the moment you enter the locality. Stray pigs, heaps of garbage, clogged drains, dingy lanes and mosquitoes buzzing all around will accompany you, as you move about in the slums.

There are thousands of slum clusters in Delhi where a mammoth population is living a gruelling life with no basic amenities. Kathputli Colony is, one such slum, riddled with acute water shortage, dilapidated mud huts, abysmal health and education services, corrupt Public Distribution System and a myriad of other problems.

While Delhi has come a long way to boast of its ‘world class’ facilities, dismal infrastructure in the slums is a legacy of decades of neglect.

For a population of over 7000 and an area of 5.22 hectares, the slum has only one hand pump which breathed its last two months ago due to excessive handling forcing the inhabitants to quench their thirst from sources outside the colony. Braving the scorching sun and heat waves, women and children fetch containers filled with water all the way from a community tap installed outside the slum.

It is ironic that everyday gallons of water are showered on the lush green field of Delhi’s several Golf Courses used by ultra-rich but these slum-dwellers yearn for even a single drop of water in this hot torrid summer.

The tragedy of these poor is that in every election politicians promise them better life to get their votes. “The politicians come and go but our problems remain the same. Delhi’s Chief Minister Sheila Dikshit does nothing for poor except uttering platitude. Eight years ago she had promised that every house would have regular water tap but till date there is no water supply let alone water taps”, says Sudha who lives in parched Kathputli colony.

It is ironic that everyday gallons of water are showered on the lush green field of Delhi’s several Golf Courses used by ultra-rich but these slum-dwellers yearn for even a single drop of water in this hot torrid summer.

Children defecate in open in the slum littered with garbage
(photo: Gaurav Sharma)

But what affects the slum residents most is pathetic sanitation services. Chocked drains, children defecating in the open, mud paths strewn with faeces and litter all around make one feel sick within few minutes. To make matters worse, there is no public toilet in the slum forcing women to go outside colony to use a public toilet but that too on payment. Many share makeshift bathrooms within the colonies for bathing and washing clothes.

“Kathputli colony is a virtual hell. I wish I had a better place to live in. Dirty drains lie clogged for weeks, as nobody comes to clean them. Litter and Kathputli colony are inseparable,” rues 24-year-old Harsh.

“It is better to languish in a jail than living in this slum. Every day, I have to spend Rs. 7 for bathing and relieving in Sulabh toilets. Had there been community toilets in the colony, I would not have to spend Rs 200 per month out of a meager monthly earning of Rs 1500,” says 37-year-old widow Lajju who has five dependent children.

While Delhi has witnessed huge budget expenditure on improving civic infrastructure and beautification in the last decade, a tiny portion of that spending on providing sanitation facilities in Delhi’s slums could have spared the women embarrassment of defecating and bathing in open.

This is makeshift bathroom for women living in the slum
(photo: Gaurav Sharma)

“It is better to languish in a jail than living in this slum. Every day, I have to spend Rs. 7 for bathing and relieving in Sulabh toilets. Had there been community toilets in the colony, I would not have to spend Rs 200 per month out of a meager monthly earning of Rs 1500.”

Delhi’s comfort obsessed middle class may find it difficult to stomach but a number of these slum dwellers are forced to skip their meals due to soaring food prices and inefficient Public Distribution System (PDS). The gross irregularities and rampant corruption in PDS have taken a massive toll on the well being of these poor people.

Prabhu, one of the Pradhans (Community Heads) of this slum, says that as many as 1,500 inhabitants are without ration cards, making it impossible for them to access PDS outlets for cheaper ration. In 2007, 1550 people had applied for the renewal of ration cards which were due to expire the same year. But only 25-30 people have received their respective ration cards till now, he told d-sector.

Rummaging around his torn and tattered bag, 60-year-old Harsukhiya fishes out a receipt issued by the ration office for his new (ration) card. Recently, he discovered much to his horror, that his application for a new ration card has been cancelled.

What is worth mentioning here that many residents are facing the threat of eviction as a real estate firm Raheja Developers (owner of a prominent English weekly) has been given the contract to develop 2,800 flats for Economically Weaker Sections (EWS) in Kathputli colony. The catch is that the ration cards of many old residents haven’t been renewed and if they fail to produce it to the concerned authorities they will lose the right to rehabilitation and their entitlement to these flats.

60-year-old Harsukhiya is too old to work. He does not have a ration card either.
(photo: Gaurav Sharma)

“Why do these ladies who come on TV regularly only talk about the rights and plight of tribals of distant regions? Why don’t they take up our cause? They should come and spend a night in Kathputli Colony.”

Their eviction may not spring surprise as in the run-up to the Commonwealth Games (CWG), the Delhi government led by Sheila Dikshit, in its obsession to beautify the city state, has rendered many poor homeless. Independent experts estimate that nearly 3 million people are likely to be rendered homeless in Delhi by the end of CWG.

Like other basic amenities, health services are also in doldrums. No dweller wants to go to government hospitals until there is a serious illness. People say doctors and staff in government hospitals do not treat them properly. They feel it is better to have speedy, though costlier, private treatment than doing several rounds of government hospitals.

Despite such odds, the slum residents dream of a better life for their children but lack of proper education facilities disappoint them. Most children in this locality are victims of shoddy education standards of municipal schools. Either they play truant or stop going to schools. They can easily be sighted playing cards in the open.

“Who doesn’t want to go school? We can only afford government schools where teachers never pay attention to children from slums. I flunked twice in 7th standard and finally quit education. My mother could not afford my useless education,” rues teenager Mukesh, who has now started helping her mother in street-vending.

When d-sector tried to contact Mrs Vidya Devi, Municipal Councillor of the area, she was not available for a comment. Despite several attempts by this reporter to call on her official number mentioned in the MCD’s directory, she could not be reached. Every time, her husband Lala Ram received the phone and offered to answer all queries on behalf of his wife.

“You can ask me whatever questions you have. I am looking after the problems of entire area including Kathputli colony.” Lala Ram told d-sector over phone.

Certainly, empowerment of women through reservation of seats in elected bodies is still a distant dream. If husband of a municipal councillor runs the show in India’s capital, we can well imagine the conditions in far away villages.

“Sheila Dikshit is doing everything to spruce up the city for Commonwealth Games but is least concerned about the plight of poor like us. I was born and brought up in Kathputli colony. I am now father of three children. Nothing has changed from the time since I was born. The government has spent thousands of crores on this city but, this colony has not seen even a single rupee,” laments 30-year-old Lallu.

With the Commonwealth Games around the corner, New Delhi is all decked up to showcase its overhauled infrastructure, the metamorphosis of which cost billions of rupees. While sprawling stadia, serpentine flyovers, manicured gardens, and spacious parking lots have come to symbolise the galloping growth of India, government officials cannot resist the temptation to blow the trumpet of creating a “world class” city.

However, behind this new-found glitter lies a gloom which reveals the dark side of Delhi’s development. The government may have decided to erect bamboo screens to hide the slums in Delhi but the horrendous living conditions in slums cannot be glossed over.

As this reporter was about to leave Kathputli Colony, a shriveled old man asked: “Why do these ladies (social activists) who come on TV regularly only talk about the rights and plight of tribals of distant regions? Why don’t they take up our cause? They should come and spend a night in Kathputli Colony.”

Little did he know that for our celebrity activists living in a slum for a day would be much more difficult than spending a week in a jungle!

Gaurav Sharma  |  gaurav@d-sector.org

Greetings were read from ACORN Canada and ACORN International.  Mildred Edmond, President of Local 100 of the United Labor Unions, was there and in the thick of the celebration.  I wore my new “Tenants Vote” t-shirt from Toronto ACORN with its big maple leaf in the middle of their design of the ACORN button, which elicited comments and appreciation from many of the leaders in the room.

This was a gathering of a community foraged in the steel of struggle from decades of neighborhood and citywide campaigns, fights for the living wage, heroic struggles to lead the post-Katrina recovery, and now the heartbreak of having to build a new organization again.  Watching the smiles as leaders hugged Vanessa Gueringer and Gwen Adams as they marched up to get their certificates and listening to their remarks sometimes brought tears to my eyes.  I couldn’t help thinking about the indomitable spirit and will of the members, which trumps money every time.

Here is a place where the name, the experience, the “brand” of ACORN is still golden in the streets and community centers of New Orleans just as it is in so many other cities in the country.  It’s not a “word” but a shared experience that lights the flame guiding the work going forward.  Beth Butler spoke about her father having told her when she went to work for the organization in Little Rock to make sure she worked with “strong leaders” and many were in this room.  Mark Moreau, head of New Orleans Legal Assistance Corporation, brought the crowd to peals of laughter after receiving an award, saying he had been with them for more than twenty years and would be with them forever “no matter what the name.”

In fact the truth of the old chant is indisputable:  the people united shall never be defeated!

Happy anniversary to a peoples’ struggle that will continue unbroken!