Back in the late eighties, when most of the Dream Act Activists weren't yet born, and their parents were on the way to the baile to meet each other, the middle and upper-class in Dallas was sloshy with Christmas money.  I saw the Dreamer's parents everywhere: landscapers; roofers; the coolest restaurants; carwashes; nannies in the park;  janitors; and if you were up and around in the early morning, you could see packed cars leaving the warehouses, a working-class flood of brown people -- all over Dallas where they'd just completed a late-night shift in some kind of assembly work. I 'm glad, painful as it is for me to say this -- that the Dream Act failed.   Now these beautiful, idealistic, dreamers, are awake to the powerful interests in this country.  Now they will see beyond the hip-hop, Shakiraness of brown commercials to their destiny.  And what is that?  To lead this country, to educate our community, and to teach all of us to vote as never before.  To be differ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKj5njkUhdg&feature=player_embedded Last night at the offices of our Senator, Kay Bailey Hutchison, over a dozen starving college students (20 days now without eating), were arrested, along with former City Councilwoman and spiritual leader Maria Antonietta Berriozabal, and labor scholar and activist Dr. Antonia Castaneda. I am frankly dismayed at the lack of courage from our political leadership -- where are they?  Should I name names?  (Congressmen Ciro Rodriguez and Charlie Gonzalez, Mayor Julian Castro). But the political leaders want to win elections (though Congressman Rodriguez lost his due to his pandering for independents instead of hell-with-the-consequences truth-telling ).  So they wait, and they mollify, and they hope the tide will change.  It's gonna get alot worse before it gets better, and no thanks to the ambitions of those who live for what they think matters, instead of getting on the train to destiny.   We need leaders.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKPwedfalXc He's from San Antonio's southside, and he's the real thing.  I've watched him handle three big dogs at once, and at his camp, he's got 16 dogs, many who were abandoned.  On this day, he made a friend of "Donkey," who's been chained up all his three years.  Donkey mauled my dog months ago, but now he's my buddy, thanks to Andres, who helped me learn to understand what dogs want. With 100,000 stray dogs in San Antonio, it's good to know that Andres can help people with their pets, and also find a way to reach people who have forgotten what it is to love a dog on the streets. To reach him, email him at fourkninekamp@yahoo.com

I found her this morning.  La Perra was lying besides one of the creek's pillars under San Jacinto.  I don't think she had been dead too long  because her body was not very cold. The men at the Picnic tienda where I fed her last Sunday across the street tell me that she's been going down for a month.  I know that she starved to death, and that is the worst death of all. Last Sunday I wanted to take her to the dog shelter here in San Anto, but they're closed on Sunday. I have two dogs in my tiny yard, and I was afraid to keep her with me.  On Monday I had to deal with my 91 year-old father's pre-funeral wishes in Raymondville, four hours away, and I was afraid to delay his wishes.  La Perra ate a little barbacoa on Sunday morning and I left food with the men, who promised to feed her.  I looked for her on Monday night, Tuesday, Wednesday, all week.  She must have been alive, just waiting to die.  I should have pressed Juanillo the homeless man when he told me tha

I've been looking for La Perra since Tuesday.  The men who hang out at the Picnic on San Jacinto and Martin told me she had died.  That the owner had poisoned her.  That she was lying in the creek that runs under the Picnic where I first saw her. Today, a small miracle. At dark, I drove by again, and stopped.  I stepped out a bag of dogfood in my hand.  A homeless man came up to me, said "don't you remember me?" He's one of the men who sleeps under the street, at the creek where La Perra walks.  Told me that she'd slept with him last night, that he tried to feed her but she refused to eat. The owner bred her for puppies and then dumped her, he said, that he is a cruel man.  The homeless man's name is Juanillo, and he sleeps on a mattress with some blankets, and yes, I remember him now. I gave him some food for La Perra, a leash, and my cell number.  And some money for him, too, he said that he works as a custodian for the store.  He says that La Perr

I saw her four days ago on San Jacinto and Martin, here on the westside.  She was crossing a tiendita filled with men drinking outside.  I followed La Perra as she crossed the street to the creek below where a couple of homeless men have their mattresses.  She let me touch her, and ate just a little wet food, wagged her tail, and left. If I take her to the Dog Pound she will be put down because there are 100,000 stray dogs already in San Antonio. Today, Sunday, she ate a little barbacoa.  She could barely walk.  Neither the Alamo nor the Riverwalk is the true symbol of San Antonio, it's dogs like this that roam the city.  So many of the people in my neighborhood are working-class, and they don't believe in taking care of animals when they are hurting to take care of themselves.  Son criaturas de Dios , my father told me.  Animals are divine, my father taught me.  They are angels, and they carry messages from God to us.  San Antonio is a beautiful city, but equally poor

It happened in April. There are 100,000 stray dogs wandering in San Antonio -- more common than graffiti. But I'd never seen anything this bad. He was stumbling down the street, covered in bloody sores with flem streaming down his eyes. It was a wonder that he was still alive, a dog made of ravaged fur, mange, abandoned who-knows-when. And yet -- something told me to feed him, to save him. That he would be alright. I always carry dogfood in my car, and yes, he came to the bowl, a good sign. A man in a pickup truck stopped and helped me wrap a moving rope around his neck, and then I lifted him into the back of my van. He didn't resist. He was even more repulsive up close, yet it hurt me more to leave him behind, so I didn't. Once I got him home, the neighbors gathered to talk about how crazy I am, watched me feed him more bathe him. I think they felt more sorry for me than the dog. What was crazy was that I didn't have a cent at the time -- only blind fa

Franco Mondini-Ruiz; Joan Frederick; Vincent Valdez (with a trumpet instead of a brush); Joaquin Abrego with Los Nahuatalatos; Terry Ybanez, Deborah Vasquez, David Zamora Casas, Rita Contreras, Rolando Briseno, Dee Murff, and many many more, came together at Bihl Haus Arts to celebrate the 5th Anniversary of Bihl Haus Arts, one of San Antonio's cultural centers and gathering place for some of the city's most interesting and best artists. It was a night of ART. LITERATURE. MUSICA! BAILE. Over 40 visual artists created original covers for the first Chicana novel published by the University of Texas Press, "Golondrina, why did you leave me?" by Barbara Renaud Gonzalez. It was a humbling noche that left me hallucinated by the beauty of what we can make together.

I've been invited to read in NYC/CUN Y next Monday, September 27th in the evening. Haven't been to NYC in a few years -- since the Intl PEN Festival when I met writers from all over the world. Africa; Japan; Germany. A birthday present from Raquel Ruiz (who's writing a book on women and boxing). Right now I"m finishing a children's book on the life of Willie Velasquez, that's right the Voting Pioneer that NYC isn't interested in, but I know I know it will sell. It's called "The boy made of lightning." Today I worked getting out the vote on the Southside...for County Commissioner Tommy Adkisson. Too many people don't want signs or want to be bothered by voting. The Tea Party hype, like some nasty worm,has infested enough brains so that people are ashamed of Obama because he hasn't changed things fast enough -- spending money, etc. If you hear this enough, you start believing it. The calls to the ego by the conservativ