A Publication of the Coalition on Homelessness
Construction in Parkmerced, the sprawling apartment complex located next to Lake Merced in southwest San Francisco, will begin in the spring of 2018, kicking off a 20 to 30 year redevelopment process.
Maximus Real Estate Partners, the company that owns Parkmerced, will construct several new high rises, adding 5,679 new apartments for a total of 8,900, almost triple the current 3,221 units. Other planned amenities include community gardens, open spaces such as playing fields and bicycle paths,
When I first heard of Will, he was a case manager at Hamilton. There are many good case managers in San Francisco, but I think it’s fairly rare, across the board, to find social workers who are really fully in league with the people they work for. Will was fully, unapologetically, and—given the nature of social services—often contentiously on the side of the homeless families at Hamilton. As a case manager, he began volunteering at the Coalition on Homelessness,
After deciding to write my second article about homelessness around the world and the ways to approach it, I realized how really different homelessness is in various countries and cultures.
Israel didn’t know homeless until late ‘80s and early ‘90s — a time marked by a wave of immigration from the former Soviet Union. From the first days of its existence, Israel was one supportive community that took good care of its members.
Volunteer & Donate to the Orgs Doin’ the Work!
California Coalition for Women Prisoners is a grassroots social justice organization, with members inside and outside prison, that challenges the institutional violence imposed on women, transgender people, and communities of color by the prison industrial complex (PIC). We see the struggle for racial and gender justice as central to dismantling the PIC and we prioritize the leadership of the people, families, and communities most impacted in building this movement.
Formed in October of 2017, the No Walls Collective aims to uplift the artwork and stories of incarcerated and formerly incarcerated people. We run an online Etsy shop to connect buyers with pieces donated by incarcerated artists to support the livelihood and self-determination of people directly impacted by prisons and jails. All the proceeds directly benefit the contributing artists and ongoing efforts to abolition prisons. Each collective member is connected with loved ones who are currently in prison,
I grew up in the rough part of San Jose; the east side. I ran with the local crew and began to participate in gang activity. My first encounter with the law was at the age of 13. I was arrested for burglarizing my middle school. Because of my age and the degree of the crime, I was released to my mother.
Four months later, I was rearrested; but this time it was for a strong-arm robbery.
Dear Readers,
Hey there. I want you to know this experience I am having while I am in here. This place is like hell with ice water. You can learn many new things from being where you are now.
The whole life thing changes from the second you get arrested and are in handcuffs to the point when you’re in your room thinking about everything you’ve done.
You go through the whole getting checked-in process (fingerprints to intake).
Dear Son,
Today is Father’s Day — but to be honest I don’t feel as if this day really applies to me — I mean how could it, when I’ve never been much of a father to you — I was loyal to all the wrong things and chose the streets over my family — and as a result of my choices I spent most of your life in prison.
Whenever I read or hear prison staff, politicians, and others supporting solitary confinement, especially long-term solitary confinement, speak about solitary confinement, they make it seem like being locked up in a cell for 23 or 24 hours a day is no “big deal” or problem physically or psychologically on a person. And, of course, they never speak about the malicious and sadistic things that prison staff do that causes and contributes to the negative physical and psychological effects of solitary confinement.
Early morning clanging of plastic trays, moving anxiously through metal food ports, signify breakfast time. Come and get it. The rusty, metal tray slots open, and a dusty, burnt orange tray slides into my isolation cell. As my stomach grumbles, awaiting relief, my eyes rest upon a single piece of stale, flat coffee cake, topped with a small mound of dark brown, fear inspiring peanut butter. Holding a sinister grin on his face, a young guard inquires,
