Youth Nutrition Zeroed-Out In South-Central L.A., CA – June 19, 2006 – For 14 days and counting

[photo] Child with Heirloom seed stock

South-Central Farm 4000 S. Alameda Ave. L.A. - - - - sidewalk vigils nightly 7:00 p.m.

www.southcentralfarmers.com

[photo] Children See Their Food Source DestroyedBy Police Action/Political Inaction June 13, 2006

Tierra y Vida by Quetzalxilotl

Wednesday, Jun. 14, 2006 at 4:07 PM

Listen: She is the basis of life, our Mother, and she is true. Today, sunshine glints from her

leaves as the wind lifts them; the energy is transmuted; she gives birth. Coming home from the

action at the Farm today I noticed the world. It is green, even here, in LA.




It isn’t our anger, or our grief, or even, in the final analysis, our sense of justice that moves

us, that has kept us alive under a system of death for 5 hundred years. It is our knowledge of

beauty.

The seeds, the ancient seeds growing at the Farm were sent to us by our ancestors; they are

precious messages from a distant past, from those ancient ones who still watch over us, and who

are present in this moment and in this place; they have made us who we are. They will remain;

they are messages to our children and great-grandchildren, messages of sunlight and life, the

yellow corn and the white corn, the blue… They grow.

But this. This system of death has no option but to kill, and thus no option but to die. These

men, who as the Hopi Elders tell us, profit at the expense of all life, will come one day to pay

their debt. It will all fall down on them.

Our prophecies, the prophecies of our Elders and antepasados tell us so. Science, the science of

the earth, of living systems, of the atmosphere, of combustion and energy, of structure and chaos,

tell us so. There is not much time.

Some day soon we will all be farmers. Some day soon what the Destroyers have built on the

foundation of destruction will follow itself to its logical and inherent conclusion.

We’ve done the right thing. We’ve defended our Mother and life and balance. We’ve stood together

in an alliance for her survival. We’ve created beauty and community; we are here together. We are

pushing up, from beneath the concrete, from between the cracks of a collapsing system; we are

coming to know one another.

We have and we need only one answer: plant new seed. This was the course of our ancestors, the

path they took to preserve our past and plant anew the beauty that is life; they did so in the

face of genocide, of cultural collapse, and of a destruction so utter, so total, that we can

scarcely imagine it, even in the face of the bulldozers on the Farm.

We have not lost. The Earth does not belong to us, we belong to her. It is a bond that cannot be

severed. The Zapatistas remind us that only forgetting is defeat.

Remembering means life. What we have learned so far at the Farm cannot be forgotten. It has

changed us forever. We are a new people. Not even in death can we forget.

South Central Farm community model for when Peak Oil hits - www.southcentralfarmers.com

Linda Piera-Avila - What a sad day yesterday [June 13, 2006]… It is a sad day when people are

criminalized for growing their own food. 350 low income families will now be without access to

their crops. All the players’ excuses and disclaimers only serve to confirm the disease of our

dominant culture and the idolatry of private property rights to the exclusion of the commons and

human need. I wonder how Horowitz and the mayor and the councilwoman would feel if they could not

get fruits and vegetables. A court case will begin July 12. Let’s hope the truth will be

revealed then and that the farmers will be able to return to their plots.

What I saw yesterday looked more like a third world country with peasants being thrown off the

land for a corporation’s interests, rather than a scene from the US. We truly live in a fascist

government, esp. if one is a person of color or poor or both. The random destruction of the

plots also reminded me of the time when white buffalo hunters would kill the animals for their

tongues and hides and leave the carcasses to rot on the plains. No respect for life or the planet.

No heart. No soul. My heart is heavy this morning as I reflect on what has been lost and the

foolishness of the City of L.A. in not nuturing this gem, this oasis in the midst of urban grit

and greed.

In many ways, I think the community at the Farm was a model of what could be, and what might be

when peak oil hits and what should be, so that resources are avaiable to all and no one has to

starve. It was a spontaneous, organic, joyful, simple, peaceful group of very different folks who

came together for this cause along with the farmers. It was like being in a Mexican village. The

farmers kept us fed with good vegan food, a lot of which was from the farm. Often you could hear

someone playing music. We had a healing center where bodyworkers volunteered and where people

could get first aid or counseling or a nap. We had an art center where people could make banners,

posters, or whatever was needed for the daily press conferences and evening vigils. As you’ve

learned in your odysseys, we really don’t need all the stuff we’re told we need.

We had a media table, set up outside with internet and fax and powered by solar panels from Taran

Smith’s veggie van (he was the youngest son on “Home Improvement”). The farm organizers and tree

sitters had daily conferences in the peach orchard to plan strategy. We had nightly vigils,

attended by leaders from across religious backgrounds to these lead nightly inspirational moments,

followed by the Aztec blessing and then a candlelight procession around the perimeter of the Farm.

We had young people arranging security: anarchists, zapatistas, and others. All very respectful

of others. I was doing ground support for the tree sitters and trying to monitor Julia during her

prolonged fast (26 days). A heavy responsibility.

I was not at the Farm when the heavy hammer came down, but arrived shortly afterward. In time to

see hundreds of armed law enforcement types do their militaristic maneuvers. At one point they

were pointing tear gas guns in the direction of the crowd in which I was a part. They would not

let legal observers in to see what was happening to the arrestees. They would not let us give them

water. They did not give the warning period before commencing arrests inside the Farm as

negotiated by the legal observers and as the Sherrif is required to do by law. (No-Knock entry on

service of a warrant upheld, a serious degradation of existing federal criminal law, by the US

Sup.Ct. June 26, 2006).

They started cutting the walnut tree with John (Quigley) and Daryl (Hannah) still in the upper

limbs. (Daryl will be on Larry King tonight.) They sent bulldozers in not only to clear a path to

the tree, but also to wantonly and spitefully destroy random plots.

South Central Farm community model for when Peak Oil hits