AUSTIN ADVOCATE

The Root of the Problem
By the Western Regional advocay Project

If we have learned anything about homelessness over the past 25 years, it is that public policy based on assumptions, fear, and paranoia about people forced to live on the streets will never create a plan that can work.

All the recent federal plans on homelessness -- FEMA emergency shelter plans, HUD Continuum of Care plans (5 years) and the 10-year plans of the Interagency Council on Homelessness -- are based on the assumption that in the early 1980s, homelessness re-emerged in America because something was wrong with the people who were becoming homeless.

The federal government required local communities to submit competitive applications for federal largesse, and to show that they could effectively address the “problems of homelessness in America” within the grant amounts allocated. So local governments did just that: they formed committees; created task forces; hired tons of consultants (I should know--I was one); and they wrote grant after grant and plan after plan stating how they were going to address the problem if only the feds would give them the lion’s share of the money.

Plans deemed groundbreaking and effective changed over the years as the “dysfunctional homeless sub-group of the month” changed. But one thing was always constant: The root of the “problem” was blamed on the homeless people, not on the federal government. After all, it was the federal government -- not the homeless people -- evaluating the proposals.

The federal government pretended -- and legions of nonprofits and city agencies applying for federal grants were forced to believe -- that the $54 billion dollar reduction in affordable housing funding over the last 25 years could now easily be addressed with life-skills training for homeless single mothers. The federal government promulgated the myth that its tax credits for companies to send blue-collar jobs overseas could be easily offset by having welfare recipients sweep streets and pick up garbage in exchange for below-poverty-level welfare assistance, so that they will value “giving back” to the community.

Imagine this: suppose it wasn’t the federal government evaluating these proposals to address homelessness. Let’s say it was your high school science teacher. The average high school science teacher could, in a few hours, shred the flawed assumptions, half-baked hypotheses, and lack of factual evidence that comprise these weighty and endless volumes of governmental plans.

Therefore in honor of high school science teachers across America, we present you with some facts to consider the next time you’re wondering, “Where the hell did all these homeless people come from?” Look for the common denominator amongst all these people. If we can identify that, we can begin to make some assumptions and perhaps come up with a hypothesis about the causes of and potential solutions to “the problem” of homelessness.

Our government has formed a flawed hypothesis about homelessness because, from the very outset, it has conveniently turned a blind eye to its own role in drastically cutting federal housing funds. Instead of looking honestly at the factors that created an enormous shortfall of affordable housing, our government has simply jumped to an unscientific prejudgment of homeless people themselves and has set out to “fix” homeless people with counseling and micromanagement instead of addressing the nation’s calamitous housing shortage.
Fact one: Compared to 1978, the U.S. government is currently spending nearly 65% less on developing and maintaining affordable housing units for poor people. ($83 billion was appropriated in 1978, while only $29 billion was allocated in 2005.)

Fact two: Compared to 1978, the U.S. government currently spends $84 billion more on subsidies for homeownership programs. (It spent $38 billion in 1978 on these subsidies for middle-class and affluent homeowners versus $122 billion in 2005.)

Fact three: In 2004, 61% of all federal housing subsidies went to households earning over $54,787 per year, while only 20% of those subsidies went to households earning less than $18,465 annually. The 2004 federal poverty threshold for a household of four with 2 minor children was $19,157.

Hypothesis: There is a direct correlation between the fact that, in the late 1970s, the U.S. government made a conscious decision to redirect expenditures for housing from rental assistance for poor people to homeownership and the reemergence of homelessness in America in the early 1980s. When President Reagan "reinvented government" by drastically slashing assistance to the poorest of the poor, he played a major role in reinventing homelessness so that it re-emerged in modern America.

If our federally mandated housing and homelessness plans (FEMA, HUD and ICH) and our locally politicized campaigns had been focused on addressing “what created this mess,” the ludicrous current attempts to fill a $54 billion housing hole with a mere $1.37 billion of annual homelessness assistance funding would have drawn ridicule long ago.

How many life skills training courses would a homeless person need to take to compensate for the fact that, in the 20 years from 1983 to 2002, the U.S. government built 500,000 FEWER units of affordable housing than it did in the 7 years from 1976-1982? How many money management classes must a rural parent take to compensate for the 35,000 FEWER units being built in rural America each year?

Are money management classes and life skills training good things? Sure, why not? Is a lack of money management classes and life skills training the cause of a re-emergence of homelessness? Doubtful. Will money management and life skills training -- or case management, or more outreach, or the repressive policing of homeless people for sleeping and living on our streets -- ever create enough housing to make up for a $54 billion cutback from the federal government? Hell no.

If we want to address homelessness in America, we need to stop looking at “them” and start looking at us. If we believe our government represents us, it’s we, the people, who must force the federal government to create justice. What did we (the U.S.) do to contribute to this problem and what can we (the U.S.) do to address it? Acting in our name, the U.S. government has chosen to redirect our housing subsidies to homeownership; the real estate industry receives over $120 billion dollars a year towards this goal. Acting in our name, the U.S. government has chosen to cut $54 billion from housing assistance programs for poor people. We (as citizens of the U.S.) KNOW that 1.3 million children experienced homelessness in 2003.
Look at the information we present to you. Not only do the facts invalidate the current housing “plan” of the federal government, they invalidate their underlying hypothesis. A group of us -- Western Regional Advocacy Project (WRAP) -- have gathered documented data from the U.S. government about its housing policies. We have converted this information, facts if you will, into easily understandable charts. Charts can give the same information in a direct visual way that more people can digest and understand. They also do a hell of a good job at cutting through the lies and misinformation of politicians and showing the real trends in our nation’s housing policies.

The attached chart shows that when this nation first abandoned its commitment to funding federal housing programs, it abandoned millions of homeless people with the same stroke. Abandoned federal housing programs led directly to millions of abandoned, impoverished Americans languishing without housing in cities across the nation. Something else that is just as precious to our national identity has also been abandoned: the very spirit of human rights has been left by the wayside to die of the same neglect and callous disregard. San Francisco artist Art Hazelwood created an unforgettable image for WRAP, “From Reagan to Bush: For Twenty-Five years, A Spirit of Abandon,” that graphically shows how savage cutbacks in federal housing led to the cruel specter of countless Americans living on harsh and unforgiving streets.

Trends tend to reflect priorities and, after three years of studying these trends, we at WRAP feel it is the right time for us to make a hypothesis. Our educated guess, or hypothesis, is that an equal distribution of housing subsidies from the federal government will have a dramatic impact on alleviating homelessness in America. We also have a related hypothesis: that an honest evaluation of corporate welfare vs. citizen's welfare will show that our government urgently needs to balance out who is getting government help before our government decides who needs life skills training. We, the people, must stay focused, not on promoting the corporate “bottom line,” but on promoting “the common welfare,” as it says in the preamble to the U.S. Constitution.

[Western Regional Advocacy Project (WRAP, a collaboration of 6 community organizations in CA, OR, and WA) and National Policy and Advocacy Council on Homelessness (NPACH) plan to have a full report based upon this and other data by the end of April. WRAP can be contacted by email at wrapsf@yahoo.com, or at 2940 16th Street, Ste. 200-2, San Francisco, CA, 94103]

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A Nation Divided
By Chitra Ramaswany

Gavin Hood is a white South African who’s made a film about black South Africans – and he’s not about to apologise for it. “Was Ang Lee gay when he made Brokeback Mountain?” he asks. “Was Spike Lee Irish when he made 25th Hour?” The director of Oscar-winning Tsotsi is evidently sick of this question.

In Glasgow for a special screening of the film, a number of South Africans in the audience stand up during the impassioned question and answer session to thank Hood for making it. One says how moving it was to see a South Africa that’s not simply about violent crime and the legacy of apartheid – interesting because, in many ways, Tsotsi is about both. Afterwards a group hang back to thank Hood again, each taking it in turns to hug him.

At last year’s Edinburgh Film Festival Tsotsi had a similarly powerful affect on filmgoers and critics, scooping the audience and Michael Powell awards. The film went on to be nominated for two Baftas last month. Now it has won an Oscar – for best foreign language film. Back in South Africa it has broken box office records, taking nearly three times as much in its opening weekend as last year’s South African Oscar nominee, Yesterday.

Set in the sprawling township of Soweto, on the outskirts of Johannesburg, Tsotsi tells the story of the violent and troubled titular gangster (tsotsi literally translates as ‘thug’ in tsotsi-taal, the township patois). During six days his life is torn apart when, after a brutal fight, he runs to a nearby affluent neighbourhood and shoots a woman during a car-jacking. It’s only when he drives off that he hears the screams of her baby in the back seat. The tale, adapted from a novel by South African Athol Fugard, follows Tsotsi as he is forced to care for the infant and decide whether to return it.

It’s not easy viewing – Tsotsi and his gang brutally murder a man with an ice pick on a packed commuter train for no reason; he forces a young woman in the shantytown to breastfeed the baby at gunpoint, and we see the next generation of tsotsis, orphaned children below the age of 10, living in stacked-up industrial pipes. This is South Africa after apartheid, where rich and poor live side by side, forever reminding one another of the gulf that stretches out between them.

But Hood is reluctant to describe Tsotsi in purely post-apartheid terms. “It’s in no way fully representative of what’s happening in the country,” he says. “We’re not a travel brochure. But Tsotsi is set in a particular place, with its poverty, HIV, and its discrepancy – which is too wide – between the haves and have-nots.

“So,” he adds, “you could set this movie in the tough areas of Glasgow or Buenos Aires or south central LA. That’s why I’m not really interested in it being about race. It’s about a kid from a tough area who’s trying to find his identity.”

But in many ways Tsotsi can’t help but be a film about the new South Africa. Tsotsis are the children of apartheid, of a system of segregation that forced poor black people to live by night on the city’s fringes and turn to crime. No education, no work and no pass to get into ‘white zones’ for more than 50 years raised a generation of angry and isolated tsotsis.

“Every one of us in South Africa has perpetrated crime, been a victim of crime or both,” says Hood. “My mother’s been carjacked twice and I’ve been mugged – so it gives you access to who these kids are and why.”

It’s the film’s power to generate debate, says Hood, that gives Tsotsi its hope. “What we have now is a country with a great constitution. There’s hope and that’s why in the book Tsotsi dies and in the movie he doesn’t but it’s up to you to decide what ought to happen to him.

The issues of redemption and forgiveness that the film explores hark back to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Hood says. “That’s the gift that Mandela and the commission gave us – the idea of talking in order to reach an understanding, to forgive and be able to express remorse.

“One of the legacies of apartheid was to frighten people away from saying what they were thinking. Now that we can say what we like it’s an odd freedom,” he continues. “We’re not quite sure what stories to tell. Do they have to be caught up in the political? Can they be broad comedy?”

But Tsotsi is a story that Hood wanted to tell ever since the book was published in 1980. He tried to get the rights for it, couldn’t, and ended up working on other projects, including two feature films and a spell working for the department of health making educational programmes about Aids when the crisis broke out in the early 1990s. Then, in 2003, producer Peter Fudakowskyi phoned Hood and asked him to get involved, write the script and direct the film.

With Fugard’s original Tsotsi set in the 1950s, there was a translation job to be done – Hood wanted the story shifted to the modern day. He also wanted to shoot it on location in Johannesburg, in tsotsi-taal, and use the best actors for the roles, which he felt would be unknowns. That was the tricky part. A story like Tsotsi doesn’t get Hollywood backers tripping over themselves.

“There was considerable discussion early on about getting this film made, about who might play the lead role and which names might be available – I mean Hollywood names,” explains Hood, “and therefore we would have to shoot it in English and so on.

“South African filmmakers have got to be realistic: we’ve got to sell films abroad. We almost didn’t get it made.”

In the end it was the producer’s investment fund that put up the small $3 million budget for an eight-week shoot so neither of them had to make any compromises. Hood wrote the script in English and then it was translated into tsotsi-taal with the cast. He also wanted to avoid the gritty, handheld style often associated with ‘ghetto’ films like City of God in favour of widescreen cinematography. Finally he set it to a thumping, brash soundtrack of kwaito – African hip-hop – by South African star Zola, who also makes an appearance in the film.

“It was great to cast who we did but it doesn’t help me for shit out in the world,” says Hood, rather philosophically. Although there are more filmmakers coming out of South Africa, he says, the industry is still not set up to get independent foreign films out to global audiences.

With the Oscar award, however, perhaps those global audiences will come to Hood. And, for that matter, to the local actors who eventually won key roles in the film – including 19-year-old Presley Chweneyagae, who plays Tsotsi. To find the right person, Hood’s team visited community theatre groups in the townships. “I needed an actor who could reveal thoughts from ‘angry young man’ to ‘vulnerable child with minimal dialogue’ without over-emoting,” says Hood. “I was very lucky to find Presley.”

For Hood, being an outsider looking in – like the Spike Lees and Ang Lees before him – made for a better film. “You come at it with less baggage,” he says. But he asks one thing of his audience: “Please don’t force me to make movies about middle-aged white South African men for the rest of my life.”

So when I ask him what’s next, he jokes, “How about a story of an Eskimo transvestite who moves to Yugoslavia?” Then there is the flicker of an idea. “Actually that would be really interesting. I know nothing about Eskimos.”

Tsotsi is out on March 17. Athol Fugard’s novel has been reissued by Canongate and is out now

and the nominees were... Tsotsi’s oscar competition

Don’t Tell (Italy)
The resurfacing of a childhood memory sparks the beginning of a journey into her past for Italian actress Sabina, in this film directed by Cristina Comencini. As the disturbing repressed memory of her father’s abuse resurfaces she travels to America where her brother helps uncover the truth of her family history.

Joyeux Noël (France)
In 1914, the bloody realities of trench warfare were put on hold when Scottish, French and German troops laid down their weapons to celebrate Christmas. Exchanging songs across the barren stretches of No Man’s Land, the opposing forces briefly overcome the conflict that divides them.

Paradise Now (Palestine)
Two Palestinians prepare to make the ultimate sacrifice after receiving the call from the guerrilla group they belong to. The film follows Said and Khaled over 27 hours as they come to terms with saying goodbye to their family, friends and their lives, in preparation for their suicide mission.

Sophie Scholl:
The Final Days (Germany)
While distributing anti-war leaflets 21-year-old Sophie and her brother Hans are arrested by the Nazis and taken to Gestapo headquarters. Here, over the final days of her life, Sophie is interrogated about her affiliation with resistance group the White Rose.

Reprinted from The Big Issue in Scotland
© Street News Service: www.street-papers.org

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Tax Day April 17
By Richard Troxell

April 17th is Tax Day. On this day The Universal Living Wage Campaign in conjunction with the NAACP and the National Coalition for the Homeless will go to our nation’s Post Offices and call for a Universal Living Wage! Representing more than 1,400 businesses, unions, religious groups, along with national, state, and local organizations, we will fly banners that say: “Reduce Your Taxes! with a www.UniversalLivingWage.org

We have found that American business has grown to rely on government subsidies to pick up that protion of the basic wage that they have failed to provide. Workers have been forced in ever increasing numbers to depend on food stamps, general assistance, and TANF. Congress intended these to be emergency, stop-gap measures. Instead, many businesses have used these government supports to meet basic payroll. A national shift is occurring moving away from the business responsibility of paying a “fair wage for a fair day’s work” to creating an ever increasing burden on the tax payers.

We know that if business paid its employees a fair living wage, we could dramatically reduce the burden to tax payers.

The Universal Living wage is the economic cornerstone of the National Coalition for the Homeless’ Bring America Home Act. This of course is our national effort to end homelessness focusing on affordable housing, civil rights, health care and livable incomes. The ULW is based on the Moral premise that anyone working 40 hours in a week should be able to afford basic rental housing wherever that work is done throughout the United States. The goal is to fix the Federal Minimum Wage.

On Tax Day, we expect to have actions in almost 100 cities and to be represented in at least one Post Office in every state in the Union.

Locate the post office in your city on the website and join us on April 17th 4:30-6:00 when we will strike a blow for Economic Justice. Go to www.UniversalLivingWage.org to see photos of our past Tax Day and “Bridge the Economic Gap Day” held in September 2005.

We are creating a national ground swell of support which will carry us to the “tipping point” when we will fix the Federal Minimum Wage and create a Universal Living Wage!

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“Cowboy and the Clown”
By Gary Gebhard

All alone, a man unknown prepares for such a show, called the “Cowboy’s Rodeo.” Dressed in some ol patched up blue jeans, along with a red striped shirt hanging on his back. Upon his stringy hair, pulling down on an old worn hat, such a man quite laughed at. Yet one that is set apart, such a man with a cowboy’s heart. One that is willing to lay his life down, one whose name is “Cleo the Clown”. With his glossy painted face, he finds a quiet place. Gently closing the door, Cleo kneels to the ol wooden floor. His head humbly bowed low, lifting up prayers for all the cowboys of tonight’s Rodeo Show. One more look, into his little Holy Book, knowing these words in print were Heavenly sent, “Do as I Do” and “Love as I have loved you.”

In the presence of God’s grace a joyful smile broke upon the clowns painted face. Through the voice of Gods word, Cleo once again heard “No Love is greater than this…. A man lay down his life for a friend, lo I will be with you till the end, and shortly we will meet again. Hand and hand we will walk into the PROMISE LAND!” I have a place prepared for you, what I promise I will do. Upon the clown’s face, such a peaceful look, gently placing into his pocket, the little Holy Book. With a humble heart, the words of whisper, “Let the Rodeo start.” Upon this cool and breezy night, each individual star shinning bright. In the shadow of the moonlight glow, stepping forward into the arena show. It’s that crazy clown they call “CLEO.” Never looked upon as a hero, but little do they know he’s a Cowboys savior, of tonight’s Rodeo. Looking upon many gathered around, there is no difference in the eyes of this clown. Black, Brown, or White, all are the same in his sight on this Cowboy’s night. Tonight is not just another Rodeo show to say the least. On this night some proud Cowboy will try to ride the Black Bull known as the “Beast.” Such a beast will entice a Cowboy’s pride, to come and take a deathly ride. Deceived by the promised prize, if only a cowboy could survive a Beast of such great size. Now leaning firmly against the wooden wall an ol scarred up Cowboy standing tall, ready to risk it all. With these words Cleo spoke " Ol Cowboy, this Beast ain't no joke." I just have to say, "You have a choice today, you can always walk away. Swallow your pride, you don't have to take this ride. Listen my Cowboy friend, this ain't gotta be the end." The ol cowboy spitting tobacco on the ground with a cold look on his face turned around as he climbed into the bullpen, with darkness in his eyes and a smirk grin. Boldly speaking, "Beast I'll ride you to the end." Now sitting on the big black bulls back, the ol rugged cowboy pulled down on his white straw hat with his pride high and his brown leather boots hanging low. The ol cowboy yells out, "LET'S RODEO." Little does the ol cowboy know, this could be his last show. The Beast has a plan for such a man, to offer a thrilling ride. One that will bring much pleasure, one without measure and then stick em into the side. With the point of his horn, he will make a cowboy regret he was ever born. Once he gets a cowboy down, with all his might that big, black bull will stomp the cowboy into the ground. With the horn of pain pressed into his side, with the look of death in his eye, arrogantly holding his head high, "There's your ride, now it's time to die." As the life of the cowboy flows to the ground that big black bull will make his familiar sound, "Another cowboy dead and gone." That's the ol bulls favorite song. Now the gate is opened wide, the beast is loose turning side to side, with the look of destruction and death in each eye. Now it's time for the beast to end this ride. Twisting and turning all around, the ol cowboy thrown to the ground. The beast of pride, with his head held high and the words of his heart speaking through his eyes “Tonight the cowboy dies.”

Cleo the clown quickly steps in for and unknown friend, to save the ol cowboy’s life from coming to an end. With the head of the bull hanging down, presses his horn into the side of the clown. The ol cowboy reaching down, picking up the crushed hat, belonging to the clown. Turning around only to see the ol clown lying on the ground with blood spread around, flowing from the side of the clown. The ol cowboy walked over kneeling to the ground, I have to know one thing ye ol crazy clown, why did you lay your life down? I’m just an ol cold hearted cowboy. I chase women all around, I love em, and leave em, and go on to the next town. I cuss and fight and get drunk on whiskey every night. I live my life alone, my heart, hard as stone. Never a tear in my eye, no man or women can make me cry. Nobody cares if I live or die, nor do I. Helplessly lying on the ground Cleo the clown reached around and out of his pocket he took that little Holy Book, humbly speaking, “My friend you take a look.” There’s a man in here that does care, and his story he will share. Jesus Christ is his name, and if you trust in him your life will never be the same. Much like myself, dressed as a clown and set apart with the purpose in heart, to help all people around, even laying my own life down. Jesus came dressed in the flesh of a man to fulfill his Father’s plan. He came to help and save all man so they too, could live in the promise land! Born as the Son of God, set apart with his Father’s creation in his heart. Stepping into the arena of this world looking with a heart of compassion at the people gathered around. Black, white, or brown, for all he came to lay his life down. You see two thousand years ago there was another Rodeo show. On that earthly ground Christ was the clown. And in that pen, the beast of sin known as Satan. Deceiving many men through the way of sin, bringing their life to and end. But on that wonderful, miraculous day, God made a way. He had a plan to save the life of all man. On that arena ground, Jesus would lay his own life down. Through the blood of His own Son, victory over sin and death was won. Each man God does cherish, he wishes no man to perish. If you will believe you too can receive the forgiveness of your sin and a life with Jesus, that will never end. Jesus came with truth and grace, with the reflection of life upon his face. To make a way for all men out of the pen of sin. Satan too, had a plan to deceive and use man. The very one’s Jesus loved, the reason He came from above. To heal, help, and save all those around are the one’s that threw Jesus our Savior to the ground. They laughed and spit, with their fist so did they hit. With bruises and cuts painted on his face, harshly mocked in utter disgrace. With the blood red stripes across his back, He was given a cowboy hat. They called it a crown of thorns, upon his head it was worn. With hatred in their eye persistently shouting…..”CRUCIFY, CRUCIFY.” On this day we want you to die. Out of our show you gotta go, this is our Rodeo. You have nothing we need, so they nailed God’s only Son to a tree. Many people with an attitude of such ingratitude. For a caring man wanting to be a friend, to save all from their sin, to offer a helping hand, to bring hope of the promise land. The beast proudly standing by with his head held high. Destruction and death in each eye, it’s time for this man to die. Using the horn of hatred to pierce deeply into his side, blood flowed onto the ground. Christ was humiliated and laughed at like a clown. Before the last breath he took, on his right side did he look, only to see a criminal nailed to a tree? A man that had climbed into that pen of sin, which quickly has brought his life to an end. He took that enticing ride and now is sentenced to die. With one last plea the ol sinner hanging on the tree had this to say “ Don’t forget me, as you enter into your kingdom on this day, because this ol sinner did believe through Jesus he would receive the promise of life eternally. With this word, the man now heard Jesus say…”On this day, with me, you too will rise…into paradise.” But the story doesn’t end; Satan the beast didn’t win, because the life of Jesus didn’t end.

Buried in a tomb, raised on the third day to show us the way. Blessed all that will believe for the promise they will receive to have life with Jesus eternally. One more thing my cowboy friend. One day your life too will end. Tomorrow’s not promised to me or you. Now that you have heard this story, what will you do?

You can continue to play, or humble yourself and pray, and learn to live God’s Way. You do have a choice today. Climb on out of that pen of sin, open the door of your heart and invite Jesus to come on in. Swallow your pride; let Jesus take you for a real cowboy ride. The ol cowboy melted like wax at the clown’s side, with glossy eye, began to cry. With tears streaming down his face saying, “Thank you God for your Grace, thank you Jesus for dying in my place. On this night, I turn from my wicked behavior. Come through the door of my heart and be my personal Savior.” Firmly gripping the clowns’ hand saying, “Thank you Cleo for sharing the good news of the Promise Land! Thanks for laying your life down. You are truly a man of God and a real cowboy’s rodeo clown. Although I would like to know, how did ya get a name such as CLEO? These words Cleo the clown spoke “…I once too took life as a joke. Much like you, I did all I could do. Like a clown, I was always fooling around, always climbing into the pen of sin, to ride the beast of pleasure time and time again. Believing the lie this time I’ll win. I would eat, drink, and rise to play day to day, living life my way. Many years went by, and I lived with the horn of pain in my side. I climbed into that pen of sin once again to take that ride, not caring if I lived or died. But on this night Jesus came to my side. I was a man at the end of my rope, but Jesus brought these words of hope. There was a seed planted in your heart long ago, if you will only believe, it will grow. With these words He would say, “I am the Truth, I give Life, I am the Way, arise and follow Me today.”

He shined his light ever so bright in my heart, so I would no longer have to walk in the dark. Christ never gave up on me; He loved always, unconditionally. He set me free, and opened my eyes so I could see. The promise He spoke long ago, the seed planted now began to grow. If I would believe, and open the door of my heart to receive, He would never forsake nor would he leave. He removed the stone from my heart and gave me a new start. Along with the a renewed spirit within, He raised me from the tomb of sin that I was laying in. He spoke to my heart…. I have set you apart from the heavens above with all my love. I have loved you so you also go and do, share my promise of God’s good news. With this name I give to you, it will be a reminder what I’ve done for you. So you also go and do.

CHRIST LOVES EVERY ONE

Through my spirit it is done. You too, now go, love everyone. Now your free, to be a clown for me. In Him I believed, in His promise I received. Through Gods Grace I found my place to be what he created me to be. A Child of God set free, living in victory, with a promise of life Eternally. Handing the ol cowboy his little Holy Book with his last breath he now took. The ol cowboy turning to the side looking the beast in the eye. You didn’t win, because the life of that clown didn’t end. He went to lay his ol worn hat down, in exchange for an eternal crown. But as for you tonight, your BAR-B-QUE. You will be the beast of what is called “The Cowboy’s Feast,” and that ain’t no BULL

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Street Paper vendors inspire modern classical music piece [Russian and English], (Journey Home, Russia)
Staff Writer

A classical music concert took place at Herzen University in St Petersburg on 5th February, within the framework of a project called ‘the New Music Initiative of St Petersburg’. The project represents a dialogue between classical and modern music. The participants of this particular concert were the St Petersburg State Orchestra and two British composers, Peter Dyson and Marcus Tristan Hitcock.

Peter Dyson was born in Huddersfield in Yorkshire in 1949 and came to study at the State Conservatoire in St Petersburg 10 years ago. He has lived in the city ever since, considering it his own and writing music for St Petersburg.

“Life in Russia has definitely had a bearing on my music”, says Peter, currently teaching a course called ‘British Cultural Identities at the beginning of the 21st century’ at the St Petersburg University. “I would call my music a reflection of the time and milieu in which I am living. I consider it to be social realism.”

Peter Dyson titled his narrated piece for orchestra and clarinet, ‘Conversations and Observations: The reflection of a homeless street paper seller in winter’. Dyson explains his reasons for the theme of the project: “Many people’s rights are limited here, the authorities neglect the elderly, the ill, the homeless and the hungry. I composed the music about homelessness because I can understand what it means to stand in the freezing cold all day in order to sell even a few street papers to earn enough to live. So the least we can do for a homeless vendor is buy a street paper from him”

Dyson’s narrator starts by painting a picture of life on the street, and by the final movements, the audience understands that he is actually a homeless street paper vendor. He speaks about what is happening in that part of the city and in society in general. The concert finishes with the words “Sometimes, when the sun is setting, I hear music ….”

And then it becomes clear that the narrator is the composer himself.

Many of the homeless vendors of the St Petersburg street paper ‘Journey Home’ came to enjoy the concert and had the opportunity to sell papers during the interval.

Translation from Russian by Sarah Powell Pisareva, edited by Lisa Maclean

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Imagine happily paying taxes
By Tumen Soliz

Waves of change reach tipping point.
Have you seen the light?
At the pub, in the church,
at the corner or country road,
like a realizattion Synapse
sending tingles thru to toes,
dissaffected youth begin tsunami.

Humans tired of war
get swept by waves of joy.
Taxes buy only what life needs.
Everyone works twenty hours a week.
All bills paid and more free time
is biproduct of one job shared by three.

Real hope is realized by all
and all begin to see the light.
Ride the wave, don't hesitate.
Your time is now to shape the future.
To not repeat mistakes of past,
invest only into what we need.

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Belief in Mother Earth
By Tumen Soliz

Preach belief and faith
For fame and fortune lifestyle
Using our taxes.

We're funding the wars
Our young people sacrificed
Our God battles theirs.

They keep repeating
"The American people
Want and expect it."

Don't confuse image
With hard working taxpayer.
Vote new government.

Earmarks and pork fly,
Our money their luxury,
Not run by angels.

The bigger scandal
Is not what is illegal,
But what is legal.

Wire tapping is
certainly necessary
In constant war state.

Diamond mine wars
Same as any other war,
Who gets rich quicker.

If occupation
Is equal to slavery,
Ownership is wrong.

Mom and Pop stores bust!
Markets defining wages!
Dissent not allowed!