By Raya Trans Marxism is a term that is being discussed with increasing frequency in socialist spaces. As queer individuals turn to the revolutionary movement, we are seeking ways to make our mark, to adapt the traditional methods and ideas of the left to our particular experiences, and to use the theoretical tools we encounter to theorize our lives. But what does it mean to have a Trans Marxism? Not simply in the descriptive sense that the present author is both a non-binary person and a Marxist, but in the more general sense of how the emerging Trans Marxism can act as a distinct theoretical paradigm within the Marxist project. To a certain degree this theoretical project is tied to identity, to the creation of trans affirming spaces in the socialist movement and the understanding of how the hegemonic transphobia of bourgeois society has impacted revolutionary movements and organizations, and to the development of trans and non-binary cadres to fight against oppression and for human liberation. On another level, Trans Marxism means the application of the theoretical tools developed by Marxism— historical materialism, dialectical philosophy, and Marxist economic theory—to the history of the queer community, the experience of being trans in capitalist society, and the structure of transphobic oppression in the context of class exploitation. One thing we desperately need as a queer revolutionary movement is a thoroughgoing historical materialist examination of trans history —and liberal attempts to theorize transphobic oppression always fall short because of their inability to offer the kind of class analysis that Marxism provides. Furthermore, it is reasonable to suggest that dialectical materialism becomes an extremely intuitive philosophy precisely when the question of trans and non-binary individuals is brought to the fore (with the slogans "beyond binaries” and “no binaries” that are being raised in regards to gender being excellent summaries of dialectical thinking even to comrades who have never read a word of Marx or Hegel). It’s also worth pointing out that Marxist dialectical philosophy is simply incompatible with the existence of a rigid gender binary; the existence of such would disprove essential Marxist precepts and the very existence of trans, non-binary, and agender people validates the dialectical method of thought. Beyond that however, something that doesn’t get discussed as often is Trans Marxism signifying the understanding that Marxism itself is a project of transition. In his preface to Finance Capital, Rudolf Hilferding suggested a division between Marxism as a scientific method of understanding the world and socialism/communism as a political movement. This view de facto prevailed throughout the 2nd International, where it was largely taken for granted by the ‘orthodox’ leadership that Marxism was simply a question of philosophical ideas set in stone and could be separated from the practical work of building up the party and trade union apparatuses, advocating for social reforms, and conducting electoral campaigns. Understanding Marxism as being in process of transition, as constantly testing its own validity through the revolutionary process and as existing as a product of a certain historical moment (namely of the proletarian class struggle to overthrow capitalism), means a total break that view. A Trans Marxism is a Marxism that cannot be separated from the political movement, that can truly exist only in the course of struggle, and is a realized in terms of concrete socialist organizing more than it terms of a set of abstract beliefs. In that sense, Trans Marxism is the rightful successor of Rosa Luxemburg’s and V.I. Lenin’s efforts to unify socialist theory with socialist practice, of Trotsky’s permanent revolution and transitional program, and of Marx’s famous declaration in the Theses On Feuerbach that “the philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point is to change it.”

By Joey Williams Being on the third floor of the Main library branch of the Public Library of Cincinnati and Hamilton County brings back memories. The memories exist here together as if all of time were crammed in one place. I can even sense the memories that haven’t happened yet. It’s difficult to grapple with sitting here in this place that has experienced so many iterations of me and been the backdrop for so many moments. Some were determined, ambitious moments but there have been many aimless ones too. Here I have been depressed, inspired, hopeful, and occasionally incredibly skeeved out. But no matter how you spin it, this place is one of life, community, and connection. At nearly this exact desk probably a good seven years ago, I studied for my undergraduate classes. My focus was on international nuclear security and I was feeling especially motivated that morning. It wasn’t long though before a friendly man, dressed in a dapper but slightly too large suit, from the next desk over made contact. Michael was talkative in the way that always seems a bit strange in such a guarded world but I liked him and I liked his energy. I chattered excitedly about nuclear security in a way that probably seemed too talkative for such a guarded world but he didn’t mind. He pulled out a picture of his daughter for me to see, and with the most exquisite confidence told me he believed in me that I would keep the world safe for her. I’m not sure if I really believed I could make the world a safe place for anyone’s daughter but it mattered to me that someone truly believed I could. I’m not a religious person but when Michael invited me to his church, I knew I would go. At his church that summer I swayed and fanned myself as music played, women cried, and men writhed in the aisles in a transcendent communal experience of pure spirituality. I’m still not religious but to this day I look back with amazement and joy on the experience that sprang to life on the third floor of the public library. “Are you a social worker or something,” a man asked only minutes after my conversation with Michael. I definitely was not (although his guess turned out to be a lot more accurate years down the road than I ever would have imagined). He was bleary-eyed and seemed defeated. I wasn’t a social worker but I have felt as defeated as he looked. I asked him to have a seat at the desk where Michael had just been. He smelled like alcohol, stale and fresh, but I think tears would have welled in his eyes regardless as he spoke about how much he loved his daughter and how much he wanted to be the best he could be for her. I can’t even recall what else we talked about but his distress slowly seeped away. We smiled and laughed and when he asked if it would be okay if he got a hug, I didn’t hesitate. In that third floor library conversation and that hug I’d like to think I passed the encouraging energy from a man who believed I would protect his daughter to a man who just wanted to be better for his own daughter. Years later I would be in that same room on the third floor on a weekend night after the library had closed for the evening. It was an annual Staff Association party, a fantastic get-together for library employees. I’d worked for the library two years by that point but that particular Staff Association dinner would be my first and last. I had given my notice weeks earlier and the following Monday would be my very last day. It felt cosmic and meaningful to wrap up my tenure at the library with a giant party with free food, alcohol, cupcakes, and music while surrounded by all the amazing friends I’d made while working at the library. I soaked it all in, fully aware of its significance in the moment. I stayed until everyone else had left except my inner circle (comprised of people I’d grown to really love) and one very inspiring unabashedly drunk coworker from another branch. It was the perfect way to close such an important chapter. As I sit here now six months later, I find myself still struggling to navigate life changes set into motion all those months ago. Some of the people I spent that evening with are still in my life; many are not, a reality that has been especially difficult to navigate. But as I sit here now on the third floor of Main, I feel all the moments that have been and all the moments that have yet to come. And while all the variations of “hey girl, where’s your boyfriend” and “I like the colors in your hair” that I have received here today aren’t quite the sense of community I was looking for, they have been exactly the reminder I needed that life is still happening, people are still connecting, and there’s still a world out here waiting for me to reach out and connect.

By Dr. Mark Mussman The old adage in news broadcasting, “if it bleeds, it leads,” helps create the belief that the world is more dangerous than it really is. Violent crime is at its lowest point in generations, yet people still believe that the world is more dangerous today than ever before. While mass shootings have become commonplace, the likelihood that a random act of violence will affect you are slim to none. The vast majority of crime occurs between people who are connected in some way. Rape and molestation are more common among family members, acquaintances, friends, and social groups than the random person on the street. Yet, we start early with “stranger danger” which may lull children into the false belief that their family and friend group are safe from harming them. Our limited, and perhaps distorted, worldview can be more harmful when we believe falsehoods touted by media. Currently, community groups, including the Homeless Coalition, are in a media battle surrounding residential displacement in the West End. The soccer company, FC Cincinnati, has bought several buildings in the West End, and they are currently trying to remove the long-term residents, including 99 year-old Ms. Mary Page. The optics on this are pretty astounding, as Ms. Mary is bedridden and seeing her, hearing her story, is compelling. Yet, local news media is attempting to bury the story to protect the wealthy elite who own the soccer business. This is the type of story that should be running nationwide by now, yet, it is barely making rounds on local news sites. While Ms. Mary is just one of many, (FC Cincinnati’s own housing study, to be released the summer, shows that more than half of the residents of the West End, not including public housing, are at risk of losing their homes in the next 3-5 years), the stress of displacement may not just result in homelessness, it could also end her life. One of the ways corporate media tries to bury the story is through oversimplification. Media may try to frame things as only two sides, and that each side has only their own interests at heart. In the case of the soccer stadium, it is presented as the soccer stadium is just trying to be built, you know, for the economic development, or progress. This viewpoint does not take in the months of organizing against the stadium, the residents who almost unanimously tried to stop the stadium from coming to their community, the land-swap deal with Cincinnati Public Schools, the many variances and zoning changes that were brought to City Council, research that shows that stadiums are economic wastes, and the whole history of the Bengals’ stadium deal - which we are still paying for in the county. Trying to simplify the issues also leads to a forgone conclusion, such as we saw in the news this week, which claimed that the residents must move for the stadium. Not only does this ignore the promises made by Jeff Berding of FC Cincinnati to “not displace anyone” it also defies logic - they do not need to move, but the business interests don’t value their lives because they are not in the targeted demographic for the stadium or the newspaper. Another typical tactic used to bury a story is discredit the sources, those who are affected, and those who are helping to organize and amplify voices. Discrediting is seen in the titles assigned to people involved: community leader becomes “activist;” community organizer becomes “advocate;” community member becomes “bystander.” We see this time and time again, and it’s written into the history as well. Somehow, without having political aspirations at all, we at the Homeless Coalition are accused of staging the fight against displacement “for political gain.” I have yet to figure out what that gain is. How do we gain politically when we are aligning ourselves with the people who are thought to have the least amount of power? If we wanted political gain, wouldn’t we align ourselves with the most powerful? This kind of logical fallacy is prevalent in the media as it attempts to discredit the hard work that organizing entails. Other ways that sources have been discredited this week, include statements regarding Ms. Mary’s caregiver and family member, who lives in Mt. Auburn, that claim that she’s not worried about losing her own housing. What does that have to do with this issue? Unless we are talking about multi-neighborhood gentrification, it’s irrelevant. We should all be worried about displacement, and it should not be down-played by the media. But the goal here was to say that it doesn’t really affect the caregiver, so why is she even speaking about it? Even more egregious than the previous examples, is when the news media clearly side with the oppressor, or agitator. In the case with FC Cincinnati, media outlets were quick to cite false information provided by FC Cincinnati, including that they were working directly with Ms. Mary (and others) to help them through this transition. FC Cincinnati was attempting to hide their new ownership of the buildings, and they were not at all in contact with the residents being displaced, other than notices to vacate the building. By repeating lies over and over, that FC Cincinnati is being altruistic, trying to help, when they have not even had a phone call or meeting with the residents, is a clear example of bad journalism. But beyond bad journalism, or what might be called fake news, it also shows how eager the media is to take what the powerful and wealthy have to say and run with it. It should have never been in print without verifying the facts. There have been other false statements made by FC Cincinnati over the years, including that no one would be displaced, and without a critical media to analyze these false messages, we are left with a mouthpiece for the soccer business. Distracting the reader/viewer is also done to ensure that the whole picture isn’t received. A promotional video for the proposed soccer stadium ran on top of a recent article about the community members who FC Cincinnati is attempting to displace from their homes. The video, with its upbeat and driven music, shows fancy sketches of the possible stadium, comparisons with existing buildings in the area, including the football stadium, and glamorizes the stadium site. The video itself is overpowering, and I even watched the video thinking it was going to be about the victims, but it turned out to be a promotional video provided by FC Cincinnati. I watched the entire video before realizing that it didn’t even relate to the content of the article. The video itself is so hype that I was exhausted after watching it and I didn’t even read the article. Hours later, after realizing that I missed the content, I had to go back to the news site skip the video, and read the article. To distract us from tragic displacement, I also noticed non-story news popping on the front page of corporate media sites. For example, stories about the 7 Hills student who died in his van last year, and failures of the 9-1-1 system somehow became news again. Lists of hole-in-the-wall restaurants started popping up on corporate media’s social media. The story will be buried through distraction and oversaturation of non-news. Sports plays a specific role in distracting the public from inequalities and inequities that negatively affect our community’s quality of life. Finally, the use of logical fallacies is prevalent in the reporting around the displacement of the low-income, mostly Black, residents in the West End. An Operation Vortex style blitz is being touted by the Cincinnati Police Department as a solution to the crime of the West End. These type of activities only serve to displace crime to another part of the city. The notion that everyone in the community is a criminal is not only harmful, but serves specific interests, including that of FC Cincinnati and land speculators. When social media pointed this out last year, the Cincinnati Police Department fired back by claiming this is what they do every year. So, every year, they label an entire neighborhood as criminal and become aggressive with them. Does anyone else see this as a problem? We cannot simply compare FC Cincinnati, with its unlimited monetary resources, with the low-income community it is attempting to control. These are not equal comparisons, and should not be treated as such. We should be mindful of the tactics used to bury the story: oversimplification, forgone conclusions, discredit and deny, siding with the oppressor, distracting the community, using promotional materials as news, using blanket statements that vilify entire communities, and pretending that the villain the victim have the same amount of power. Like rape and sexual assault, the attempt by FC Cincinnati and its corporate partners to take the West End for their own use, is about power and control. FC Cincinnati, with the blessing of Cincinnati Public Schools, Cincinnati City Council, and the Hamilton County Commissioners has the power to do many things, but they cannot erase the power of the people who are organized and unified with a single demand: to remain in their safe and affordable housing, ultimately, to not be removed from their own community.

By Bill Woods Beginning in the 1940s, Cincinnati became the destination for thousands of individuals and families migrating from rural Appalachia, and over the years a distinct urban Appalachian community developed here. How is this community faring today? At the Community Issues Forum at Christ Church Cathedral on April 4th, Michael E. Maloney, a longtime urban Appalachian leader and scholar, and Maureen Sullivan, former Director of the Urban Appalachian Council, provided some answers to this question. The recent book, "Hillbilly Elegy," noted Maloney, has brought a lot of attention to Appalachians, both rural and urban. J. D. Vance's story of growing up as a child of a drug addicted mother who had migrated from rural Appalachia goes beyond his personal experience by offering some negative stereotypes about Appalachian culture in general. In fact, Maloney is one of the contributors to a newly published book of essays, "Appalachian Reckoning: A Region Responds to Hillbilly Elegy." The message of Maloney and the other authors of this book challenges Vance's generalizations about lazy hillbillies and white welfare queens, and it portrays a much more diverse population and culture. This greater diversity and more complex culture were also portrayed in a poem read by Maureen Sullivan at the beginning of the Forum. The poem represents a compilation of statements by Oyler School students of Appalachian descent. Sullivan and Maloney emphasized that today's urban Appalachians are diverse and can't be labeled with any simple stereotypes. Maloney, who is also an urban demographer, went on to describe how Greater Cincinnati's current Appalachian population is spread throughout the region, with over half the people living in towns and suburbs beyond the inner city. In Cincinnati itself, neighborhoods where Appalachians live have changed over the years. Over-the-Rhine became a major residence for Appalachians in the 1950s and 1960s, but by the 1980s, Lower Price Hill emerged as their primary neighborhood. In terms of numbers, Maloney noted that approximately half a million people of Appalachian background live in the Greater Cincinnati region. Economic hardship remains a problem for a large number of Appalachians. He estimated that 8,000 families in this area are below the poverty line, and this number translates into about 30,000 people. Hit hard by the 2008 recession, many Appalachians have never completely recovered from this severe economic downturn. Neighborhoods like Lower Price Hill, explained Maloney, are in worse shape today than they were twenty years ago. One problem that has always confronted urban Appalachians is the unwillingness of governments and other institutions to recognize them as a distinct group. A current example, cited by Maloney, is the initial failure of leaders of the Child Poverty Collaborative to include Appalachians in their planning. For this reason, leaders like Maloney and Maureen Sullivan strive to make themselves part of major initiatives to improve the lives of Cincinnatians. For instance, Sullivan and Maloney are involved in the Equity Coalition, a recent effort to deal with income inequality and the continued growth of poverty in the city. When asked whether urban Appalachians are losing their identity after one or two generations away from the region, Maloney and Sullivan replied that the answer is both yes and no. For some, they confessed, the identity has become blurred or ceased to have relevance. Others remain staunch upholders of their roots. Maloney pointed to the interest shown by public school students in Lower Price Hill and college student he has worked with in recent years. Ironically, he noted, a new pride of identity has emerged in the rural Appalachian region. Both Sullivan and Maloney are concerned about creating a new generation of leaders who will replace them as Appalachian spokespersons. They recently created a leadership project, and they are working to strengthen the Urban Appalachian

By Josh Spring April 9th, we, FightBack Cincinnati: Wade Street & Central Avenue Tenants United stated publicly our demand that Jeff Berding and FC Cincinnati cease trying to displace us from our homes and instead publicly commit to not putting us out of our homes, re-start regular maintenance of the properties and meet with our group no later than April 16th. This was communicated widely through media outlets and a letter signed by us explaining this was sent directly to Jeff Berding. Mark Mallory, on behalf of FC Cincinnati has stated that FC Cincinnati called together Housing Opportunities Made Equal (HOME), Seven Hills Neighborhood Houses, Council on Aging, Cincinnati Metropolitan Housing Authority and Iris Roley of Black United Front to meet this Friday morning at 10 AM to assist with making plans to move Ms. Mary Page from her home. This is Jeff Berding and FC Cincinnati’s attempt to make it appear like they care and are doing something good. There are several problems with this disingenuous attempt by Jeff Berding: • Ms. Mary Page has made it abundantly clear that she does not want to leave her home. She likes her home and greatly values her nearby support system of neighbors, friends, family and health caretakers. • This attempt by FC Cincinnati would do nothing positive for the rest of us, from whom, Jeff Berding and FC Cincinnati are also trying to steal our homes. • Our organization, FightBack Cincinnati: Wade Street & Central Avenue Tenants United are a unified body with a singular list of demands, primary of which is to not displace us from our homes. • As of now, Jeff Berding and FC Cincinnati have not responded to our issued demands and have not responded to us to schedule a meeting with our group. Because of our intention to remain in our homes, our group directly reached out to these organizations. We asked them to support our position, and in support of us to work directly with us and not through FC Cincinnati. As a result, our Tenants United group has met directly today with some of these organizations and is planning future meetings with all of these organizations as we work in pursuit of our demands. Jeniece Jones, HOME Executive Director, says, “HOME’s primary responsibility is to people facing problems with fair housing. We have learned that tenants living in properties owned by FC Cincinnati would like for us to meet with them in order to better understand their fair housing rights. This is our most pressing obligation.” Iris Roley of Black United Front expressed that she will not be attending a meeting with FC Cincinnati because she stands with the Tenant group’s position that they not be forced from their homes and she understands that they have called for a meeting with FC Cincinnati to be held on their own timing and terms. As FightBack Cincinnati: Wade Street & Central Avenue Tenants United we remain steadfast in our demands issued yesterday: Jeff Berding and FC Cincinnati, do not steal our homes. We are looking forward to Jeff directly responding to us to schedule a meeting with us.

By Gabriela Godinez Feregrino Abortion law and reproductive rights have always been a hot topic in the United States, but recently there has been a push of multiple different conservative bills around the country. On April 11, one of the most dangerously limiting abortion bills in the U.S. was passed in Ohio by governor Mike DeWine. Once a medical professional can detect a fetal heartbeat, an abortion is no longer legal. That can be around 6 weeks into a pregnancy, about the same average amount of time a person takes to realize they are pregnant. I say person and not woman because within the rhetoric of abortion and reproductive rights many people get ignored. Non-bianary folks and trans men don’t often get a mention in this conversation, which only does the cause a disservice. There is no point in excluding people when these restrictions clearly affect them as well. Anyone who can get pregnant has to be included in the conversation. Not only cisgendered women can get pregnant, and not all cisgendered women have the ability to get pregnant. It is not the job of anyone with a uterus to be an incubator and reproduce on command. For that and many other reasons, though this is largely a women’s rights issue, it also is an over all human rights issue. Reproductive rights in the United States have always been used to attack and control people. Today we need to remember that reproductive issues have white supremacist roots. While there are bills trying to stop abortions, at the same time women of color are more likely to be pushed by doctors to use birth control. This is todays residual affects from Americas racist and sexist past. In 1909, California passed eugenics laws, which would later inspire the German Nazis. According to the L.A. Times, Adolf Hitler once wrote “There is today one state in which at least weak beginnings toward a better conception [of citizenship] are noticeable. Of course, it is not our model German Republic, but the United States.” With a foundation like this, we cannot ignore how race plays a factor in reproductive rights. According to PBS news, “used as a means of controlling “undesirable” populations – immigrants, people of color, poor people, unmarried mothers, the disabled, the mentally ill – federally-funded sterilization programs took place in 32 states throughout the 20th century.”The Huffington Post reminded us that by 1970, toward the “end” of the eugenics movement, over 60,000 U.S. citizens were sterilized. This is right around the time that abortion was made legal in 1973. If today, those who were fighting for “the rights of unborn children” were truly pro-life, they would be fighting for the lives of the 15 million children who are experiencing poverty right now. They would be fighting for the black children who are victims of police brutality. They would be fighting for the lives of the 5,800 undocumented children who were sexually abused in U.S. immigration detention centers and under U.S. custody. The conversation in government has always been about what uteruses are allowed to have children, and which are to be forced to have children. Over a century later after the start of the eugenics movement in the United States, citizens and residents are still fighting for the right for marginalized and oppressed bodies to have control over our own lives.

By Seth Weber Imagine this: you’re injured, out of work and can’t afford to pay your bills. Your pipes are leaking, leading to high utility costs, and your landlord won’t fix them. You’re scheduled to be in eviction court and without an attorney, you’ll most likely have an eviction filing on your record. This seems like a pretty hopeless situation where no one – not even the justice system – is willing to help you. Agencies such as the Society of St. Vincent de Paul and the Legal Aid Society of Greater Cincinnati out there looking out for the city’s most vulnerable, however. City council passed an ordinance in January that will appropriate $227,000 to eviction prevention. An agency has yet to be chosen as a recipient, as progress on a request for proposal (RFP) has been slow but steady, said Vanessa White, chief of staff for council member Greg Landsman. An RFP will be sent out by July 1. That amount of cash may sound like a lot, but it’s small compared to what social service agencies in Hamilton County spend on eviction prevention alone. St. Vincent spent $700,000 on eviction prevention in 2017. Strategies to End Homelessness (STEH), Cincinnati’s Unified Funding Agency for homelessness, spent more than $920,000 on eviction prevention in 2017, according to their 2017 IRS forms. Even still, Mary Reid, St. Vincent’s social services director, and STEH President and CEO Kevin Finn have expressed this is just a drop in the bucket in the face of the problem. STEH’s eviction prevention fund was just 4 percent of the $22.2 million it spent in 2017. The rest went to keeping people experiencing homelessness off the street and in shelters. Most of the eviction prevention funding comes from state and local governments, while the federal government funds homelessness programs, Finn said. Hundreds of dollars more on average are spent keeping individuals off the street than are spent on aid with rent or utilities, Finn said. Little public spending goes towards eviction prevention, however, because officials don’t want it to be “wasted” on people who aren’t going to end up experiencing homelessness if they are evicted. Low-income residents who aren’t getting help often pay up to half their income on rent, said Nick DiNardo, managing attorney at the Legal Aid Society of Greater Cincinnati. This is corroborated by a 2017 housing affordability report authored by the Community Building Institute at Xavier University. The report states a third of households in Hamilton County are paying more than 30 percent of their income on housing, which is considered a cost burden. “Throughout Hamilton County this is particularly pronounced among extremely low income households,” the report states. “Three quarters of these households spend more than 30 percent, or more than 50 percent, of their income on housing, making it difficult to pay for other essential expenses.” The housing market is not looking hopeful for these folks, as Hamilton County’s poverty rate has risen from 13 to 18 percent since 2000 and there are 500 fewer subsidized housing units since that time. Forty thousand more subsidized housing units are needed to meet demand, the Xavier University report states. Until the demand is met, those living in unaffordable housing often have to rely on the aid on agencies like St. Vincent. About 100 to 150 applications for assistance come through St. Vincent a week, said Claire Palmer, a client advocate. Out of those, about a dozen or so are chosen by a team of three or four people who look through the applications and debate who should be given aid. With an average of $300 to $400 given to each applicant, Claire says they need to be selective to stay within budget. Palmer and a few others on staff sat around a table, reciting the stories of people seeking help. Those they heard from range from a single mother trying to keep a roof over her children’s heads, to an elderly couple behind on utilities. The group asked each other questions in an attempt to narrow down the applicants. What is this family’s income? Why did that woman lose her job? For many applicants, the only income consists of government benefits. Some are out of work due to an injury. The process is quite subjective, Palmer said, and deciding who needs help the most is left up to their best judgement. “That’s the good thing about St. Vincent de Paul: we have guidelines, but you can go with your heart here,” Palmer said. “We’ve had different people come through here who say this should be more scientific. It never works because the human part always comes through.” After applicants are chosen, they come into the West End office where they talk about what trouble they’re facing. One couple, Kimberly Newman and David Bertke, applied for help because they were out of work. Newman’s contract at Duke Energy had ended and Bertke lost employment after injuring his knee on a forklift. They were seeking help for their water bill, for which they owed $900. The couple and Palmer agreed the sky-high bill was likely due to a leaking pipe. They were also paying out of pocket to keep cockroaches at bay which had been infesting the house since they’d moved in. Bertke said they don’t want to pay for fixes the landlord should be making, but they don’t want to pay for another security deposit, either. “We’re caught in a Catch-22,” he said. “Do we pay into [the landlord’s] money trap or do I pay to move?” On top of everything, they were behind on rent and struck a deal with the landlord that has them paying $500 a week. The next day they had to be in eviction court. Newman said she already had evictions on her record, which as DiNardo says, can make finding decent housing challenging. “Once you have one eviction filed against you, you enter a different world of rental housing,” DiNardo said. “You have the regular housing, and then you have the sub-world of rental housing.” In this “sub-world” where tenants pay the same rate for worse housing, DiNardo says landlords tend to ignore problems like Newman and Bertke were facing and often retaliate against complaining tenants by seeking eviction. It’s difficult to prove such retaliation, he says, especially when one does not have proper representation. Tianna Henry came to St. Vincent looking for help on a Duke Energy bill of more than $1000. She wasn’t dealing with a vindictive landlord, but did have to deal with poor living conditions. It was the dead of winter and the Section 8 unit’s heating wasn’t working properly. Henry said she may have considered braving the cold if she were alone, but she wasn’t willing to subject her four young children to such conditions. Later, she couldn’t come back if she wanted to because the unit failed an inspection. Palmer seemed frustrated and confused with the apparent lack of care such landlords show. “[Some landlords] don’t really care about fixing things, especially if they don’t live close,” she said. “They’re getting the full amount of rent, so why can’t they run it like a proper business?” Thanks to Duke Energy’s “winter rule,” tenants can pay a steep discount to have their energy reconnected. In this instance, $175 was needed, and Palmer was quick to write the check for Henry. Ever since the children’s father died, Henry said it’s been difficult to make ends meet. “If it wasn’t just me, it might not be so hard,” she said. “I’m just walking on the edge right now.” After writing the checks, Palmer took the time to talk with everyone about budgeting, as she finds budgeting skills to be vital to keeping one’s head above water. Try as they may, workers at St. Vincent have a hard time keeping up with those they help. Palmer says she and others will call them to check up, but often don’t hear back once the person walks out the door. If you can’t find help to pay off your rent or utilities, you face an even tougher challenge: Ohio’s justice system. In Ohio, the court is not required to provide tenants with representation, leading to 98 percent of tenants facing court without an attorney, said Rob Wall, director of the Hamilton County Municipal Court Help Center. Often the only legal assistance tenants get is the free advice provided by the team at the help center. Wall said they often see dozens of people a day, though such a resource is rare in Ohio; Franklin and Hamilton Counties are the only places in Ohio which provide such a service. If Wall and his team think a case can be taken on, they pass it along to the Legal Aid Society of Greater Cincinnati, who represent tenants free of charge. The team at Legal Aid is small, and can only take a select few eviction cases a month out of the thousands which go through the Hamilton County courthouse. Eviction cases are heard in a small room in the courthouse’s first floor. Blink and you’d miss a case during the proceeding which tend to fly by in seconds. If the tenant comes to defend themselves or are represented by Legal Aid, it could last a little longer – maybe a couple minutes. To those like Nick DiNardo, the managing attorney at the Legal Aid Society of Greater Cincinnati, the basic human need for a roof over one’s head is of such vital importance that tenants ought to have court-appointed representation. “It seems to me if you have a right to an attorney for spending one night in jail, I think you can make a pretty strong argument that the public should have some sort of right to appointment of council,” he said. New York City began appointing lawyers to tenants in 2017 and according to a 2018 report by New York City’s Human Resources Administration, $77 million was spent on tenant legal services, assisting 33,000 households. “Eighty-four percent of households represented in court by lawyers were able to remain in their homes, not only saving thousands of tenancies, but also promoting the preservation of affordable housing and neighborhood

There they were "throned" on my front porch; every summer; shelling peas, snapping beans; There they were in bright big dresses: yellows, reds, blues, purples, oranges, greens; Dresses dancing around overly large, abundant baby producing hips. Dresses rocking, molding and cradling the curves of breasts made to feed nations There they were sitting on my front porch preparing for winter, preparing for harvest, preparing for whatever storm was going to come.. Beautiful, radiant, women with raisin and coco skins- -reds and purples dancing around their cheeks and eyes.. They laugh watching the many children dodge the bees, skin their knees, and grin at each other trying so hard to please They sit on the porch... Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, and Spirit...keeping the world turning, growing, cleansing. and just being. All Knowing… They give birth, life, and call down sweet chariot while gently singing the dying into that River. All the while their chairs-- their thrones--rocking sorrow away and giving rhythm to joy. With each moment of life calling up and gathering up the song comes the shout! It starts with a lap or an apron full of peas leaping into the atmosphere. Bowls overturned, clanging their symphonic introduction in existence. And in unison with the freedom of the peas, the women dance their souls out of their bodies like rainbow whales on emerald seas. Free! Free! from the bondage society can hold. Overlapping choruses of “How I got over,” “Nobody knows,” and “Amazing Grace drummed out on the wooden plank porch. A symphony of aged bare feet; a ballet of earthy round bodies painting God’s grace. They think of the times when there were no peas, no beans, no food to share.. They remember when they could not own their own houses, their own lives, their own bodies or even their own dreams. And the screams, the wailings crescendo into an opera of “Thank you, Jesus,” “Lord, have mercy,” and “Glory! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!” One day, One very Holy day, if I am blessed and awakened; resurrected and taken..I too will sit with the Five wise women...the witches. Slowly, I’m reaching that porch so high; that porch almost level with the sky. Where “Old” is beautiful and “Fat” means harvest and wolves and pigs are both in Vogue. One day, if I keep my broom handy; ready to clean my would-a-should-a-could-haves; making my hearth a place for all; feed, comfort, and teach many nations; laugh to the storms and cry after the sun; nurse the moon with my own eternal light... One day I too will be a praying witch. I too can say to God in confidence and strength.. “You promised…” I want my big flowing dress, my rocker, my large bag for healing and concealing the emptiness that brings apathy and war. I want to use the fat of my body to draw out and hold chaos and poisons and gently return them, cleans and whole as flowers and trees. I want my body filled with every creature, light and dark, I want to sit... to sit on a porch and see my children; my children filled so full of love they can’t help but to walk justice, eat justice, breath justice, teach justice and give peace. I want to be that witch, that woman, that elder, that wise crone filled with all my colors. Sitting on that porch, rocking with the white painted clap boards as my halo; shelling peas and snapping beans to share.

Intoxication is being drunk if only for a little while Intoxication can become a bad habit with a crooked smile Being high and drunk all alone really makes no sense Being homeless, a panhandler and a drunk can be a bad defense The fear of not knowing what your next move can possibly be Can be intoxicating without a drink, please believe me The fear of failure constantly day in and day out Can be a eye opener to a drunk to make a change, no doubt Once you realize that there is another way to live everyday To work, maintain your money and eventually find a place to stay Things start to fall in order for you surely but slowly As you start to make a change in your life ever so boldly Intoxicating thoughts will no longer be able to hold you back Understanding that with the help of God you can get your life on track So don’t stay intoxicated by the fears of the world today Go to church, read the bible and get on your knees and pray! By Willa Denise Jones

The sorrow of tomorrow Is here today The future looks Dim and gray The Earth has been Polluted Children in the world Are starving and crying Many animals are now extinct But this doesn't affect the way The killers of them think Their motives are furious And notorious Wash your hands Rinse your food These are the basic rules Our waters are polluted Ozone layer's almost gone A whole lot of viruses People are dying and crying Farm land unreliable People are getting killed Mankind is dying The sorrow of tomorrow is here today! By Kim Green

By Dr. Mark Mussman The Public, a full length motion picture filmed in Cincinnati, centers around the public library, its workers, and its patrons. While several subplots take the viewer into the lives of the main characters, the main plot explicates the need for shelter during a cold winter’s night. During this night, 100 men, who are experiencing homelessness, take shelter in the library’s 3rd floor. The trailer for the movie gives this much information, but the following review may contain spoilers. Overall, the movie does little to enhance the conversation around homelessness, and ultimately, may be seen as a modern day minstrel show, with people of color and “the homeless” acting as the comedic relief. The movie has very few redeeming qualities, but fortunately as a mainstream film, it is not intended to make social change. The Homeless Coalition created a Media Checklist to help decipher the messages in media that relate to homelessness. The following utilizes this resource to fairly assess the film. Start with the left hand side of the Media Checklist, which accounts for negative representations of people experiencing homelessness, including stereotyping. The use of name-calling, especially the word “bum,” was common in the movie. They used these terms for comedic purposes, but also normalized the word “bum” as the go-to word. This is obviously harmful as it does not recognize that the majority of men who are experiencing homelessness have a job. The men in the ad-hoc library shelter were more than just perceived as dangerous, they were portrayed as dangerous. The perception of danger was corroborated by the police who acted as if this was a hostage situation, eventually arriving in full riot gear. Beyond that, the men were seen as quarrelsome. Fighting in the bathroom at the library before the occupation and later during the occupation, gave the impression that people who are experiencing homelessness are ready to fight at all times. As far as “faking it” on the media checklist, it was clear from the use of stereotypical clothing and need for shelter that the individuals in the film were indeed “homeless” although this does not take into account reality, where most people experiencing homelessness cannot be identified by the clothing that they wear. Most people are doubled up, couch surfing, or homeless at home, which allows them to hide their homelessness to the public. The harmful stereotype that people experiencing homelessness must look a certain way gives people the wrong information about types of homelessness, and it allows people to question someone’s level of need: if someone is dressed too nicely, is too clean, they must not be in true need. One of the most egregious displays of inhumanity in the film was portrayal of the connection between homelessness and mental illness. While we know that the experience of homelessness alone can cause depression, PTSD, and other mental stressors, it was assumed that each person was suffering from mental illness. At one point, the main character, played by Emilio Estevez, exclaimed that a patron was mentally ill, and therefore did not deserve compensation. Throughout the film, jokes around mental illness flew off the tongues of each of the characters, and the assumption was that we, the non-homeless, were on a higher level because everyone else was mentally ill. The mental illness manifested itself mainly in anti-semetic racist comments, paranoia, and delusion. The film missed an opportunity to humanize the characters by showing their organizing and solidarity actions. In fact, somehow the patrons (experiencing homelessness) were able to organize more than 100 people to occupy the library, but none of that was shown. What was shown was Emilio Esteves character becoming the main driving force for the occupation. He became the leader of a movement that he didn’t even know about until after it was already organized. He then became the spokesperson, even after it was determined that he was not able to handle the pressure and he was discredited for having experienced homelessness himself. The amount of paternalism that came out of this one aspect alone showed that the film is not from the perspective of people experiencing homelessness, but rather from those who see them from the outside. While there was not much mention of panhandling in the film, the stereotype as an old man and a drug user was very strong. Other than a couple appearances by an anti-semetic woman, there was little acknowledgement of women or children in homelenssness. What most people don’t realize is that women and children are the fastest growing segment of the population that is dealing with homelessness. With the national average age of homelessness being 9 years old, this film fails to address the family crisis in any way. It erases the most vulnerable while casting everyone as both a drug user and suffering from mental illness, which does nothing to humanize the vast majority of people experiencing homelessness who do not find themselves in either category. Finally, the police were eventually seen as allies and the only solution to the conflict. The police must be able to arrest their way out of the occupation, but were also humanized along the way. The main police officer, played by Alec Baldwin, was in search of a family member who may be experiencing homelessness. This softened his approach at times, but also gave him the justification to become even more enraged at the people experiencing homelessness in the film, seemingly because he has a personal connection with homelessness. This type of cavalier personality meshed well with the unhinged county prosecutor, played by Christian Slater, who was also humanized throughout the film. There were a lot of missed opportunities to show how difficult it is to experience homelessness, and these two characters did more to trivialize homelessness more than anything. In the end, the occupiers cooperate with the police and willingly gives themselves up for arrest, as if that is the final solution to homelessness. While we know that shelters are a Band-Aid approach to homelessness, they do function to provide an important resource to many who need it. In Cincinnati, however, the vast majority of people who seek shelter are turned away, yet The Public is not a true story. No one in the movie used person-first language, but actual names were used for many of the characters. Unfortunately, the development of the characters experiencing homelessness was not as full as the library staff, friends, police, and prosecutor characters. We are left with hollowed out characters who are experiencing homelessness, at the same time, as we are given too much information for everyone else. The opportunity to explain the psychological toll that homelessness places on people was missed in the character development and storyline. The inability of the film to even mention any solution to ending homelessness was apparent throughout the entire movie. Affordable housing, livable wages, and housing protections were not even mentioned once, whether directly or indirectly. Only one cause of homelessness, job loss, was said in passing, as part of a joke. This omission makes the film shallow and unrealistic. As I’ve already written, the film did not consider age, but it also does not address wealth inequality. At one point, they joke that everyone could stay at one of the library employee’s house, but that was the extent of any discussion regarding wealth inequality. The county prosecutor was said to have grown up in Indian Hill, with a silver spoon in his mouth, but that was used to help him become human in the film. He did not acknowledge this privilege in any meaningful way, as he remained steadfast in his viewpoints throughout the film. Sadly, racism was not shown as a central cause of homelessness. In fact, the film relied on stereotypes, such as the disinterested, glamour and fame obsessed African American women television reporter, or the mentally ill, drug addicted African American man experiencing homelessness, or the Asian assistant who combs data to find the true story. These stereotypes were often disjointed and rather jarring during the film. These stereotypical characters did little to enhance the plot line, but rather served as gate-keepers to the viewer who desires stereotypes. The racism that was portrayed, as I said before, was anti-semitism, which does not explain the historical and contemporary causes of homelessness in American at all. Using the Media Checklist, the film The Public is considered harmful. Because it is billed as “Fantastic… A Feel Good Crowd Pleaser” and “Laugh-out-Loud Funny” I had certain expectations before seeing the film. Yet, those expectations did not prepare me for the shock I would feel as the audience laughed at suffering, racism, mental illness, and homelessness in general. I felt as though I was in a room full of people who wanted to harm people experiencing homelessness. While it’s true that it’s important to be able to laugh at yourself, the times when the audience laughed the loudest seemed the most inappropriate to me. It almost seemed hostile, and my party questioned the appropriateness of the laughter during the entire film. It was awkward and disconcerting. I believe that I can’t be an advocate and laugh at people’s suffering, even in a fictional context.

By Dr. Mark Mussman Over the years, Over-the- Rhine has been changed by outside forces. People who live in the rich, white neighborhoods, have come into our small neighborhood and stood for one thing: displacement. Their explicit goals: to displace corner stores, to displace crime, to displace our institutions, to supplant their version of public goods onto our assets. We have lost so many of our neighbors over the last few years, that we know at least 2400 units of housing have been lost to gentrification, never to return. But let’s not confuse progress with the status quo. As I’ve written before, the changes happening in Over-the- Rhine are not progress, as they are just the wealthy making decisions for everyone who has less resources. This is not progress. This is the status quo. The Cincinnati Recreation Commission has been at the center of many of the losses we have succumbed in the neighborhood. The loss of our public pool at Ziegler Park, the potential loss of Imagination Alley, the potential loss of Findlay Playground. There has been a makeshift fence around Findlay Playground for months now - displacing the normal patterns of residents who utilized the park for years, perhaps even decades. The alley, Goose Alley, which borders Findlay Playground has been sold or leased to private owners on the west side of the alley. This prevents the public from taking in the murals that are along the wall there - a public art project that many will never get to enjoy, due to privatization. Larger questions of ownership of Findlay Playground have been discussed in my articles before, but it brings into the light how vulnerable our public assets are due to gentrification. It’s easy to understand gentrification if you understand the word displacement. Gentrification is displacement. The story of Over-the-Rhine goes back a long time, and it wasn’t some sort of German utopia - even if that’s what current developers claim as they fetishize our history. The Adena, Hopewell, Osage, and other Native Americans were killed and pushed back by the colonizers who arrived at the Ohio river shore. They were displaced, yet their story is never considered as part of the history of Cincinnati. The displacement that is occurring today is the fall-out from the Great Depression, and the federal policies that resulted from the depression. The Federal Government desired to create social economic policies to uplift the populace out of poverty. However well intended, African American people were systematically cut out from that plan. Moreover, African Americans were labeled “vermin” by the same government that is meant to represent them. The Home Owners’ Loan Act (HOLA) was part of the New Deal, and it prioritized white people and communities over people of color. It is regarded as one of the greatest tools that created generational wealth that white families have today. Black people were denied participation in the program, so much so, that over 98% of the loans went to white people. Black people, even if they could participate economically, had the door shut in their faces. Today, the wealth gap persists between Black and white communities, largely because of the discrimination that was legal at the time, (yet still persists today.) What does this have to do with Findlay Playground? Well, following the money available, approximately 120 billion dollars (1930-1970 dollars), the white people who participated in HOLA, used the federal money to create white-only communities, which we affectionately call the “suburbs” today. Racial segregation policies, such as restrictive covenants and straight up “Whites Only” ordinances, were not found to be unfair until 1968, after the HOLA program ceased giving out the low interest, fixed rate, mortgages. White wealth was created through home ownership, and Black families were shut out of both the opportunity to participate in HOLA through redlining, and they were shut out from communities of wealth through legally supported racist housing policies. So what were their options? Black families were forced to live in areas centrally located to the cities, which have seen the most disinvestment and the most loss of wealth. From the 1960’s to the early 2000’s, these inner city neighborhoods were vilified, strangled by disinvestment, and told to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. Meanwhile, the federal government infiltrated movements to improve the conditions in Black neighborhoods, while simultaneously destroying them with an influx of illicit drugs and the eve of mass incarceration. The police continued their legacy from the “slave catching” days and separated as many families as possible to create chaos in Black communities. So, what do Black communities have left, when the City has abandoned them, the wealthy Whites have created their own separtist communities, and the grip of racism keeps them from getting “out of poverty” even though they do all the things that they are told to do? Cincinnati still has no possibility of upward mobility for African American residents to this day. Our only assets then, besides our neighbors, are our public assets. Most of the buildings in Over-the-Rhine are massive, owned by out-of-state landlords, or local white people, who are out to make a buck. Fortunately, the Over-the-Rhine Peoples’ Movement was able to acquire buildings, because without those, we would have very little control over housing in Over-the- Rhine. But, for the most part, the only assets that we share together are our parks, our playgrounds, our schools, our sidewalks, alleys, streets. 3CDC took aim at each of these public assets and has worked to privatize them and force out the existing residents for new, whiter, wealthier, ones. This has been totally at the expense of low-income Black residents and moderate to low income white residents, who enjoyed the first wave of gentrification and are now being forced out for the next wave of wealthier white people with generational wealth. Today, the police have become such a fixture in our neighborhood, that it’s not uncommon seeing them driving the wrong way up Republic Street, or sneaking around corners in their cruisers, creating an atmosphere of distrust and hostility. The main role of the police is to split families up, not keep them together. The main role of 3CDC is to displace poverty to another location, not uplift people out of poverty. The main role of the CRC should be recreation, but it’s becoming more clear that their bottom line is a financial consideration. So, as they strive to make Findlay Playground “income generating” they are literally siding with wealthy over our neighbors who find themselves being squeezed out of their own neighborhood by generational white wealth. I wonder if the Director of the CRC, who is making the decisions behind the sale and lease of our public lands, knows the specific history of Over-the- Rhine. I wonder if he understands the important role of public assets and the current attack upon them. I believe that if he understood the pain and anguish that we experience when we lose our public spaces, that he would work harder to defend them, rather than look at them as ways to make money. The CRC Director is not a Cincinnati native, which follows the trend of hiring outside of our own community. His view of Cincinnati started in 2016 when we arrived to start as the Director of Recreation. His understanding is not the same as someone who grew up “Down da Way,” and who spent their youth on the basketball courts that have been lost now. He doesn’t see the city from our perspective, and his interactions at our community council meetings show that he is only concerned about the almighty dollar, not about the enrichment of the youth and community who are the true owners of the public assets on which he sits. His position is not one from unencumbered racism and class warfare. Cincinnati has a specific history, which didn’t start, nor end, with the German immigrants, but which is a rich cultural tapestry of many immigrants and migrants who deserve to access our public assets.