Scary, Angry, White, Rich Neighbor
Guy in the photo stomping away was yelling at driver of white delivery-style truck: “Why would you park that piece of shit in front of my million-dollar house?” The driver, a white surfer, just laughed and walked away.
I was already out there with my camera. I recognized the voice as the same one that yells “Get that RV piece of shit out of here or else!” every three or four nights out his window, just after 10 pm usually. As he turned back to glare at surfer dude, I pointed to the HUNGER STRIKE sign in my RV window. He yells at me, “You will be gone too. Keep staying here, you will be gotten rid of too.”
He was already behind his fence by time I got there. I told him that RV is my home and that’s all I have since my husband died six months ago. I told him that the lawsuit I have now is in County court and it’s just about the City and their refusal to help me. The real lawsuit, I said, is the federal one and I am going to include him and all the other neighbors because the Fair Housing Act calls this kind of behavior “Intimidation of Occupancy”.
I told him the City won’t help because I am a vehicle dweller. They only offer me a bed at Moscone Center. I have cancer, I told him. That place will kill me.
And do you know what he said? “I am a cancer survivor. I am sorry about your husband.” I just burst into tears. Hell yeah, he can survive cancer with a million-dollar view.
No one has come by since Wednesday, Jan 27. At that time, it was a nurse from the City’s “Street Medicine” team, which another nurse practitioner who examined the two-inch lump in my right breast.
I have SSI income (monthly $950) and have been paying a mobile mechanic every weekend to come work on the RV. It needs two front tires, a brake job, smog, dmv (no tickets). I have a place to go in Sacramento area that needs $700 down.
I have a game plan. I am working this out. All I am asking is TIME and SPACE. Yes I started a FUNDRAISER
Gypsy Hate. That’s at bottom of this. Plain and simple. Ain’t got shit to do with homeless. This is about sedentary people’s hate of nomadic people. We aren’t even real citizens because we CHOOSE to live on wheels. I wrote a book of essays (on Amazon) about it. I even wrote a couple of papers about it (on Academia).
Now I am gonna write a federal judge about it. I am naming what this feels like. It hurts and I dunno how much more I can take of the pain.
Day #47 of my fast.