Sunshine at the Lincoln Place Vigil
By Elena
Popp
I have been an activist for social
change since the mid-1970s and, although I consider myself a spiritual person,
when it comes to effectuating change, I prefer action and protest to meditation
and even prayer.
Nonetheless, on Sunday, January 29, 2006 I
found myself at Lincoln Place in Venice at a silent
vigil.
I went to the vigil at Lincoln Place
with some hesitation. As an attorney, I represent the approximately 140 families
that are facing eviction from their homes. After an unsuccessful battle which is
now in the appellate courts, nearly half of my clients were evicted in a raid of
this otherwise peaceful community just before Christmas. 70 very low income
seniors and folks with disabilities are slated to be evicted in March and I was
annoyed that in spite of the urgency of the situation, the action for the day
was a silent walk around the property and a meditative
vigil.
As I joined the circle I could
not help but notice and be disappointed at the turnout. Less than 10 people had
turned out. I tried to focus on the reasons to be there … the sun was out
and warm …. the sky was incredibly blue … the ocean breeze was light
and refreshing … think of this as a necessary break between the morning
Lincoln Place tenant meeting and the work you have to get done this afternoon.
Pastor Tom Ziegert of the Venice Methodist
Church was speaking to the group about the power of ritual and storytelling.
During his talk, my mind wandered a bit to all I had to accomplish before the
end of the day and after only a few minutes I was contemplating my escape route.
And then Pastor Tom stopped, handed us each an index card and a pencil and sent
us on our way to walk either a short route within the Lincoln Place Community or
a long route around the community .... in silence, he reminded
us.
As I took my first steps I
considered the benefits of participating and decided I needed the exercise.
Walking among the mix of abandoned
buildings I wondered about the people who had made their lives at Lincoln Place.
Through the fences and boarded windows the beauty of this community still
struggles to break through.
A
discarded toy fire truck lay on its side on the lawn in front of one of the
boarded and fenced buildings. It made me think of my meeting the prior Sunday
with one of the displaced children. Her mother had told me that this little girl
(who I will call Aurora to protect her anonymity), had been having nightmares. I
had shared with mom that my family had been evicted from our home when I was 8
years old and offered to talk to Aurora, who at age four, is struggling to
understand what has happened. Aurora had told her mom that she was frightened
but as we explored what she was afraid of, we realized that, in fact, mom had
successfully persuaded Aurora that there was nothing to fear ... they are safe
at grandmas and eventually they will get their own home.
Having determined that the nightmares
are not about being afraid, after a long and very wiggly conversation we figured
out that Aurora is sad. Aurora did not have a name for her sadness so we gave it
one … homesick. If Aurora were an adult she would say that she misses the
wonderful sense of community at Lincoln Place ... the green open areas and the
beautiful old buildings and the way the neighbors all know each other and help
each other. But Aurora is 4 and what she misses is her friend Mindy and all the
other kids who would play in the yard in front of her house for hours on end and
eventually end up at the home of an elderly neighbor who could always be
persuaded to feed them.
My path soon
crossed with one of the nay-saying tenants pulling a grocery cart, heading for
the store. She has been a thorn in my side and strongly dislikes me. By this
point I was in a seriously meditative and spiritual space and my Mexican
Catholic sensibilities were front and center. Instead of seeing the horribly
annoying woman of the regular Sunday
meetings.
I saw a senior who is
frightened of the impending displacement from her home and has chosen to lash
out at those who are trying to be of service. She looked away and ignored me and
I forged ahead pondering all of the little timing factors that fell in place
resulting in the two of us reaching that corner at exactly the same
time.
My mind turned back to 1985 and
the day I joined the student anti-apartheid movement at UCLA. After a sit-in at
Murphy Hall students flooded Schoenberg Quad and set up a tent City where we
lived or several months. I remembered all the small and seemingly
inconsequential acts of resistance that made up that struggle and how each had
built on the next and had joined with the seemingly inconsequential acts of
resistance of others and how those seemingly inconsequential acts of resistance
lead to the downfall of a racist and oppressive system.
I thought about the role I had played
in slowing the nuclear arms race by engaging in acts of resistance at the Nevada
Nuclear Weapons Test Site in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s.
I thought about three decades of
activism starting with the grape and Gallo wine boycotts of the mid-1970s.
I thought about my Abuelito
(grandfather) who fought in the Mexican revolution and did land redistribution
work under Las Leyes de Zapata in Mexico after the revolution, representing
campesinos (farmworkers) against multi-national corporations who tried to take
their land. He was a “People’s Lawyer” just as I am, and when
I am tired I feel his will and his force rise up inside of me and I go on.
I thought about all of this and felt
proud.
Before I knew it I had walked
the perimeter of Lincoln Place and was approaching the circle of activists that
was re-forming. I looked up and saw Jataun Valentine, of the Oakwood Seniors and
the Venice Neighborhood Action Coalition.
Jatuan is one of those powerful women
that comes in a very small package. She had arrived after the walk started and
had chosen the shorter route and our paths met and we hugged and I was proud of
all the anti-gentrification work we have done together in the Oakwood
neighborhood of Venice since 1988 when the Holiday Venice Tenant Action
Committee made its way to my office and asked me to help them save their homes.
I was pleased by the crossing of our paths and was persuaded that I was at the
right place doing exactly what I needed to be doing and as I sit here writing I
realize that my long list of things to accomplish that day had been put in
perspective.
Pastor Tom asked us to
write what we had learned during our walk and we did. He then asked us to share.
The power of story telling and of sharing is seriously underestimated by
activists like myself who focus on constant action. I was particularly touched
by Mary’s story (not her real name). Mary is one of our seniors. She has
lived at Lincoln Place for nearly three decades and, because of her limited
income, has no place to go. She talked about the sadness of passing a particular
address and remembering the children who had played there and the beautiful time
she had had with them and of how much she missed them. I wondered if Aurora was
one of those children and if she had given them cookies and milk after school. I
blinked my tears away.
And then Pearl
(not her name) who is in her 90’s shared one very simple sentence.
“I have lived at Lincoln Place for 36 years and I don’t want to
leave.” Her voice cracked and tears rolled down her face and we all felt
her pain and I flashed to that inevitable moment of conflict when the
Sheriff’s Department will come to her door to take her out of her home.
She has told me that she has no intention of leaving voluntarily both because
she has no place to go and because she loves Lincoln Place. I have been using my
legal mind to find a way to save Pearl’s home for nearly a year now. On
the day of that inevitable conflict when the Sheriff comes to physically remove
Pearl from her home I will stand with
her.
I re-learned a lesson on the power
of meditation last Sunday afternoon. There were 25 people in that circle at the
end and I pictured that next week there will be 50. And I meditated on the power
of doubling the numbers each week and inspiring participants to return week
after week until we create the groundswell that will persuade the owner, AIMCO,
to be a good corporate citizen.
While I was writing this I received a news
flash that Coretta Scott King has passed. Mrs. King made the ultimate sacrifice
to the struggle. Her husband was taken from her and she persevered and struggled
on and the world is a better place because of her. Aurora, Pearl, and Mary will
also struggle on and their struggle makes the world a better
place.
Please join us on Sunday,
February 5, and each Sunday after that at 1:30PM sharp on Frederick and
California (one block East of Lincoln; South of Rose Avenue and North of Venice
Blvd in Venice).
Meet the courageous
tenants of Lincoln Place. Help us Save Lincoln Place.
Posted: Wed - February 1, 2006 at 04:20 PM