by Xing Hey
Many years ago, I sat dejected as a judge sentenced me to life in prison for crimes committed as a 15 year old. At the time, I felt as if the world was falling away and I was hanging on without a parachute or a place for a soft landing. The arms of somebody that would catch and hold me couldn’t be found. I never felt so alone as I did in that moment. Aside from three random strangers, the packed courtroom on that day was there to encourage the punishment of a criminalized teenage me. When the punishment was officially announced, the satisfaction of the audience in that room was eerie. I still feel the chills from that day years ago today.
Continue reading OPINION: The Limits of Reform—No Justice for James and Jerome Taafulisia
by Art Gomez and Melanie Reed
Nowhere to go but another hole,
another alley, another pole,
another spread, another pitch,
just more dirty sons a bitch
caught in a sweep to push us out
some show sympathy, some sow doubt.
Exterminate this Shantytown,
lives dismantled, tents torn down,
ground impounded, trash swept clean
it’s as if we’ve never been.
We’re so easy to revile,
the Jungle is our domicile.
No Favala, no Hooverville.
Home is where
the heart beats still.
Continue reading POETRY: (S)Weep Us
by Sarah Stuteville
(This article was originally published by the Seattle Times and has been reprinted with permission)
When I first started traveling to poor countries as a young journalist, I was most shocked by the slums. Tarp cities and shantytowns in Asia, Africa and Latin America, often butted up against wealthy neighborhoods and sleek high-rises, stood out as symbols of the distance between the United States and the “Developing World.” Continue reading Lost Boys of Sudan Reconnect in Seattle’s Jungle