Venice: Where Recycling Is A Crime


By Y. Miranda

A new crackdown on the homeless in Venice by the LAPD is underway, say several of the homeless that I interviewed for this article.


In addition to the usual harassment, they are being fined for pushing grocery carts on the city streets by the police. The fines range from $175 up to $270 without any explanation of the discrepancies of the amounts.
When I asked them what was the reason given by the police for the citations no one knew, other than they were told it was against the law to push a grocery cart on the city streets. The people I spoke to use the grocery carts to collect cans and most of them over fill the baskets and attach plastic bags bulging with cans.
The more cans they collect, the more they’ll make selling them. Unfortunately, Ralphs grocery store closed its recycling distribution site almost a year ago (in spite of a growing recognition that we need to recycle our mountains of trash). The nearest recycling center now is miles away in Santa Monica.

A crop of entrepreneurs with pickup trucks has sprung up. They buy cans and bottles from the car-less in Venice since it’s too far away to walk with a fully loaded cart on a city street.

Contrary to popular belief, not all the people who collect our discarded recyclables are homeless. There are also some married women who collect to help out their poor families. They are immigrant women whose husbands earn minimum wage, or they are unemployed or disabled and unable to receive benefits due to their immigrant status.

This is the case with Maria, who I met in my alley. After her husband was fined for pushing a shopping cart, Maria creatively converted a discarded baby buggy into a cart to collect cans. “My husband was fined $175.00 in June for pushing a grocery cart full of cans. We paid the fine, now he is ill and I have to do it full-time so I came up with this idea,” says Maria as she smiles brightly. “No, the police have not given me a ticket for my baby buggy. Gracias a Dios,” she prays.

Now that Maria is not able to sell her cans at Ralph’s, she sells to the middle men with trucks. “See the load I have,” she exclaims as wipes her hands on her immaculate clean apron. She re-braids her long, gray hair and continues. “if I took it to the old Ralphs site, they would give me between $11 and $12. Now I only can expect $6 or $7. But I have no choice, I have to accept it, I need to feed my family.”

“These people are making a big profit off you. Aren’t you angry?” I asked her. She smiles again, clasping her hands in front of her as if in prayer, and says, “Yes, but if they weren’t here what would I do? In this life everyone needs to work to earn money, so I understand. I’d rather have a little less than nothing at all.” “¿Verdad?” she enquires. She smiles brightly again, her humility illuminating. “Si,” I respond, “usted esta correcta.” I walked away wondering how she keeps her apron so clean while going through the dirty trash cans.

Once the homeless people are given citations, they have to appear in court to pay the fine or serve two days in jail, says Neil, a homeless man, who has been given six citations for his recycling work. Neil has made his living collecting cans and bottles in order to survive after losing his factory job three years ago.

He does two days in jail to pay for his fine and then returns to his collection work. He too sells his cans in Venice to the people in the pickups. He grumbles under his breath when I asked him if they pay him a fair price? “No, they have us by the tail, better to take a pay cut on our cans than get a fine by walking to Santa Monica,” he says. “They need us and we need them, it’s that simple.”

“This is my work,” Neil explains. “It’s harder work than my job at the factory. It might look easy but it’s not. I am not a thief, I collect recyclables that people throw away, I would prefer having a regular job than doing this for a living, he continues. “I have two purple hearts for being wounded twice in the Vietnam war.” It was apparent that Neil, who is very articulate and polite, still has his pride. He dresses in clean, Venice casual clothes. But when I introduced myself and hold my hand out to shake his, he says, “excuse ma’am, my hand is dirty and smelly.” “So is mine,” I respond. I’ve been riding my bike, he laughed and shook my hand.
I asked neil why he didn’t apply for food stamps. “Excuse ma’am,” he said. “I have no identification on me, not one piece of identification. Besides I wouldn’t know how to go about it.”

“What about medical care when you get sick?” I asked. “Well ma’am, I was lucky to take two days in jail for the last citation because I ended up having a heart attack in jail and spending five days in the hospital.”
“Are you being followed up by a doctor?” I asked. He breaks up into belly laughter. “If I go to the county clinic I’d probably have a heart attack waiting almost a whole day to see a doctor. I’ll take my chances, I feel pretty good now just hope I stay that way.”

As we’re talking a black and white car went by, Neil eyes darted, focusing on the car. “I better go ma’am before they go by again. “Thank you for spending time with me,” he waved as he pushed his grocery cart loaded with bags of cans down the street.

Sheryl, age 54, lives on the sidewalk just off a busy street. She receives small disability payments but it’s not enough to pay rent. Sheryl was fined $57 for having a grocery cart full of her personal belongings. She now has a small cart she bought for groceries and several plastic bags full of her belongings.

She makes her bed on the sidewalk and the residents in the street kind of look after her bringing her food, personal essentials and check on her daily to see how she is doing. When I was interviewing Sheryl, Jamie Vargas a nearby resident came by on his bike to check on her. A 45-year resident of Venice, Jamie told me he had offered Sheryl to stay at his house but she declined, saying she does not want to be a burden to anyone. So he and others on the street look after her.

According to Sheryl, she ended up homeless after an altercation with a security guard who was being aggressive towards her. She landed in jail for a month, lost her apartment because the police mistakenly reported that she had been sent to prison. As a result her disability checks stopped for the two years it took Sheryl to straighten out the mistake.

Meanwhile, she became homeless, bouncing in and out of temporary shelters and finally ending up living full time on the streets. The streets have taken a toll on Sheryl, although she doesn’t drink, or take drugs she is frail and thin and admits to looking far older than her 54 years. She says in a soft voice that she is not bitter, and that she is thankful for the neighbors looking out after her. Since she has so many personal belongings in bags she can’t wander very far or they’ll be stolen.

“Don’t ask me how I accumulated so many things, it just happened, but everything I own is in these bags, and I need them,” Sheryl exclaims. I spotted a roll of toilet paper, tooth paste, clothes and a box of Kleenex.
She once had food stamps and received General Relief but then she left her belongings to look for a bathroom and upon her return everything was stolen, including her ID. But it all turned out well, Sheryl says, “I am back on disability but of course rent is so high I can’t afford to rent a place.”

When I asked Sheryl if she had children she yes but they don’t know she lives in the streets. “I call them once in a while and tell them all is well.” I sense this was a topic that was painful for her to discuss. She went on to talk dreamily about the apartment she once had, with a microwave oven. She was surprised I wanted to take her picture but happy I asked her. When I left, Sheryl was sitting on her bed on the sidewalk. she yelled out, “Hey Yolanda! Next time you come by maybe I’ll have my full set of upper teeth!”

I asked each of the three people I interviewed: “If your dream could come true today what would it be?” Neil responded that it would be a room where he could lock his door and a kitchen because he loves to cook.
Sheryl said, “I just want a simple, safe place to live in.”

Maria wanted just enough money to pay rent, to have enough food to eat daily and “for all of us in my family to be healthy.”

Sheryl and Neil also wished that during the cold winter months there would be a shelter open 24 hours a day so they could come in from the cold and drink coffee to stay warm, take a shower and be able to use a bathroom.

Before I said goodbye to Neil, I asked for a hug. Being a proud gentleman, he said, “Sorry ma’am, I stink and I am embarrassed to hug you.” My heart sank but I had to respect his dignity and pride, so I waved good-bye.
Venice at one time was known as the “slum by the sea” but now it is becoming gentrified, with bungalows being torn down and McMansions being built three stories high, new commercial buildings going up daily, artist loft apartments which true Venice artists cannot afford to rent. The Boardwalk with it’s restricted city ordinance, plus the old apartment buildings on the boardwalk now being rented for corporate residents or visitors.

I can’t help thinking about all the oppressing city ordinances, the hostile attitude towards the homeless, the outrageous high rents, with many not caring about preserving Lincoln Place and its long term tenants. We see daily efforts to tear down livable, affordable housing to build high price condos, a concentrated, vicious attack by developers and their supporters to get rid of the untouchables – the homeless. There is no room for the elderly, the poor and the hourly workers. They are making Venice, our community, unaffordable to live in. Venice, known for its diversity of people and of colorful bohemian lifestyles, now is being replaced by gentrification that is monochrome in color, lifestyle and high income.

Free Venice from greedy developers! Free Venice by making it once again a City with our own government! Free ourselves by showing compassion and advocating for those who are down and out and who are unable to fight for their basic human rights!

We can begin by calling our representatives to ask them to support the The Bringing America Home Act (H.R. 4347) introduced by Julia Carson (D-IN). This bill was introduced in the 109th Congress to end homelessness. You can obtain all the necessary information by searching the internet for The Bringing America Home Act.

The occupation of Iraq, the loss of lives of our soldiers and innocent civilians is out of control. We have to fight and win our own country’s battle of poverty and homelessness before we can proclaim democracy and freedom across the sea when our own citizens are being denied their basic, fundamental rights.

Posted: Sun - October 1, 2006 at 06:20 PM          


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