Alexander Taylor -- A Man of the Engaged & Purposeful Life

My friend, mentor, teacher, second father--and to whom I owe much of my publishing life--Alexander "Sandy" Taylor passed away this morning after suffering a stroke a couple of days ago. He was the cofounder and publisher with his wife, Judith Doyle, of Curbstone Press--in my view the most important press for literature that matters in the United States. Sandy was 76.

Since 1975 Curbstone Press, out of Willimantic, Connecticut, has published the amazing works of socially engaged poets, fiction writers, translators, and memoirists such as Martin Espada, James Scully, Claribel Alegria, Jack Hirschman, Carla Trujillo, Thuy Dinh, Sam Hamill, Carolyn Forche, Daisy Zamora, Truung Vu, Sarah Menefee, Tino Villanueva, Gionconda Belli, Ernesto Cardenal, Arturo Arias... and many other emerging and veteran voices in the frontlines of ideas and words of revolutionary meaning, purpose & expression.

They introduced amazing new Latino and Latina writers in their Miguel Marmol Literary Prize--including Mary Helen Largasse--that otherwise may have been forgotten.

The press built its reputation on publishing those writers that other publishers saw as too political, too risky, too experimental, too unknown--yet Curbstone never skimped on quality work or less than stellar writing. Many vital voices from Latin America and Vietnam, among other countries, found a home here.

And somehow they also made a home for the writings of an unconfident and unschooled former gang member and former drug-and-alcohol addict--and a long-time community activist, revolutionary and thinker--named Luis J. Rodriguez.

Yes, if it wasn't for Sandy and Judy, I would not have been read or known. I truly believe this. They published my first non-self published work, "The Concrete River" (I had published my first poetry collection under my own press, Tia Chucha Press). This book has had several printings and has passed the 10,000 copies sold mark--a rare occurrence for poetry in the US. They've also published two other poetry books, including my latest "My Nature is Hunger." And they took a chance on my first children's book, "America is Her Name" in English and Spanish versions. Curbstone is currently working on another children's book based on the character from that book, America Solis.

However, the most important book of mine they supported with publishing--and with the most amazing marketing plan any writer can hope for--was "Always Running, La Vida Loca, Gang Days in LA." I gave this book to Sandy in 1992 after my oldest son Ramiro had joined a Chicago gang the year before. I struggled hard to earn my son's respect (I did not raise him), but there was too much resentment and pain between us. I thought of writing a true-life account of my own involvement in gangs and drugs some 20 years before as a means to help Ramiro--but also the thousands of young people of all races and communities caught in the web of gang life.

Sandy didn't hesitate. The book was a massive unknown. But somehow he trusted my ability to tell this complicated and difficult story--the first of a Chicano gang member's life from a participant's viewpoint (although Chicano barrio street gangs had been in existence since the turn of the 20th century, and were some of the largest and most violent in the United States).

Curbstone had also obtained a couple of large grants to develop big-publishing type marketing strategies for a small press. When the book got published in January of 1993, I embarked on a whirl-wind book tour that took three months and involved 30 cities all over the US. I also made a huge risky decision--to quit all my work (I had three jobs at the time in typesetting and in radio) and concentrate on making this book a success. Most importantly, a year before Los Angeles had erupted in flames in the worse civil uprising since the 1960s after the acquittal of police officers in the beating of an African American man, Rodney King. Many authorities blamed the destruction on LA gangs--both African American and Latino. This was an important factor contributing to the attention "Always Running" received.

Besides readings in schools, conferences, community centers, boxing clubs, prisons, juvenile halls, and more, I also appeared on "The Oprah Winfrey Show," "Good Morning, America," CNN's "Talk Live" and "Sonya Live," National Public Radio (including "Fresh Air" with Terry Gross), KABC's Talk Radio, among others. Articles on my book and life showed up in "Entertainment Weekly," London's "The Face," New York Times, Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, Houston Chronicle, San Francisco Chronicle, Hartford Courant, and many more.

Sandy and I estimated that with TV, print, radio, and personal appearances we may have reached some 70 million people in those three months. In addition, by then several big-time New York City based publishers began vying for the paperback rights to the book. Curbstone put the services of its board members and friends to help us achieve an amazing book deal--the money went into the six figures--with Touchstone Press/Simon & Schuster that published "Always Running" in English and Spanish versions beginning in early 2004.

That book, now in more than 20 printings, is used in schools, colleges, universities, prisons, and other institutions throughout the US and parts of Latin America. In 2004, Sandy helped me obtain a new contract with Touchstone for the 10-year anniversary of the book (with a new cover and a new introduction). And just prior to the Writer's Guild strike in Hollywood, I was in the process of talking to independent film makers on a possible feature film based on the book--something that Sandy was also instrumental in helping shape.

He also always had a loving embrace and word for my son Ramiro--even now that Ramiro, who's 32, is presently incarcerated in an Illinois State prison for three counts of attempted murder. And Sandy was most patient and kind with one of my other sons, Ruben, who at 4 years old went went me to part of my book tour--especially when Ruben got chicken pox and we had to be holed up in a hotel for seven days (Ruben is now 19 and doing well along with my daughter Andrea, 30, and my youngest son, Luis, 13).

I consider Sandy one of the great ones. He was a second father to me--something I've been blessed with after my own turbulent and emotionally void relationship with my own father (who died in 1992, before "Always Running" came out). Sandy reached out, advised me, taught me, and always, always had time to talk to me. Something my real father never did. I don't want to get into how important this is in my life, but I will say this--I know Sandy's generosity and caring extended to many other writers over many years, who felt his gentle but steady hand on their shoulders pushing them forward, investing and sacrificing so that voices like ours can be heard, appreciated, honored.

No writer can ask for more.

So I will say with all candor--I would not be here as writer, lecturer and editor if it were not for Sandy Taylor. Such debt can never, ever be repaid. Yet Sandy lives on in the people he's touched, cajoled, rallied for, and celebrated. He lives on in his own poetry and translations. He lives on in the wondrous but economically unstable small publishing world that he helped create--where the best of this country still values what matters, and against all odds and economic advise continue to make books that will out live all of us.

I send many prayers and best wishes to Judy Doyle, Curbstone's venerable mother and Sandy's partner. Also to Sandy's family. And most importantly to all the Curbstonistas--staff, board, volunteers, writers, and community leaders who have been enriched by the existence, vision, imagination, and sacrifice of Mr. Alexander Taylor.

Que descanses en paz, mi amigo.

Prison Life -- Dignity & Fairness in Short Supply

Today my 32-year-old son Ramiro called, as he usually does, to talk from the Pontiac Prison in Pontiac, Illinois. Over the years we've had some important talks about life, the family, his kids, politics, spirituality, and just regular dad-and-son dialogues. After serving 11 years of a 28-year prison sentence for three counts of attempted murder, Ramiro has mostly stabilized his often turbulent emotions. He left the gang life, something that is dangerous to do in a major state prison system like Illinois--which after California and Texas has the largest prison system and a massive gang presence.

He's hoping to get paroled in three years--after 14 years of good time, which under old state law allows my son to possibly get released with half of his time done. We are praying and working hard for this. Ramiro, in particular, has stayed out of trouble as best he can--but he says this is hard for anyone, even those who only want to do their time.

For example, in another prison, Ramiro dedicated himself to learning horticulture and culinary arts in a special program that allowed prisoners to obtain Associated of Arts degrees with a local college. Ramiro received two degrees and a couple of certificates before this program was cut in ongoing efforts to make prisoners' lives as uncomfortable as possible.

Then he worked in various jobs, including on the grounds, and for a time as a teacher's aid, helping teach English to Spanish-speaking prisoners. Ramiro really got much out of this, but then he got transferred.

Now in the Pontiac Prison--which is really two prisons, a maximum ad-seg prison and medium security facility--Ramiro got a job in the ad-seg section of the prison as a janitor. He did this for about a year, and he really got to like it. He says he was one of the hardest workers. Even the prison staff overseeing this work apparenlty liked him. He did his work without complaint and as thorough as possible.

However, recent changes in prison policy have thrown this up in the air. Prisoners must now change jobs every six months, causing a consternation to prisoners who love to work and do their time without any problems--including my son. In Pontiac, the prisoners must also get rid of their denim jackets, which has kept them warm during Illinois' severe winter months. Even more devastating is a new state policy of ending smoking in all prisons. This looks to be more problematic since smoking becomes important to calm down and deal with prison life.

The system apparently plans to implement this on January 1. They know this may cause problems -- which begs the question: Why does the system do things that they know will upset the little bit of peace and order in a prisoner's life? In anticipation of problems, all state prisons will be locked down for about two months beginning in January.

My son called to get a little extra money so he can get stocked up on commissary food and items for the lock down. He's taking it pretty well--for him it's par for the course. The system always comes up with something to disrupt the prisoners' existence, even with things that worked (like education and jobs). Smoking, I understand, is unhealthy, but these other programs helped keep prisoners from coming back.

Yes, prisons have many pathological, maladjusted and sick individuals. But the vast majority are mostly criminals of want--those who are on drugs (addicted in need of real treatment) or committing acts out of desperation (stealing, robberies, cons, etc.). They need trades, schooling, even simple life skills so they can adapt to a relatively healthy life in the free world. This does not happen. As most people know--prison becomes their university for a more sophisticated criminal life, which is paid for by our tax dollars.

People will learn something, even if we deprive them of everything else. We need to provide real and comprehensive rehabilitation and re-entry programs so that most of these prisoners don't end up in the same place over and over again.

My son is doing his time. He made his mistakes and is paying for them. What I question is the way we tend to enshrine these mistakes for a life time. He needs to change, but we must also help in the healing process. Instead, we tend to put more trauma and deprivation over past traumas and deprivations.

So far Ramiro is on track to get out in a few years--and despite whatever barriers, disappointments and obstacles get in the way (and he's had 11 years of them) he's still focused on coming home. I know the key has been our growth as a family that never abandoned him, as too many other families have done to other prisoners.

We're doing our part so that Ramiro comes home, stays out of trouble, becomes a decent father to this kids, and learns to contribute positively to his community and country.

The state needs to do their part as well--considering the public trust they have as a tax-supported entity. I request that the public put pressure on politicians and policy makers to provide a real path out of the criminal life, instead of helping push more and more of mostly poor and neglected young people into the more dense aspects of this life

This only fuels the growing prison industry, one of the most lucrative in the country, for a small class of people at the expense of our children.

c/s

Democracy is Alive and Well in Venezuela

Most TV pundits and opinion pieces in the US savored the loss of Hugo Chavez's Reform during the national Venezuelan election on December 2. The Reform package, which consisted of 69 amendments to the country's constitution, was narrowly defeated 51 percent to 49 percent. Chavez graciously accepted the loss, saying he would not contest the results despite the close election. This is the same Chavez that has been called a Dictator, his Reform touted as major steps toward Dictatorship and Chavez's plan to be President for Life.

These kinds of statements were utterly defeated on December 2.

Even though the National Assembly accepted and contributed to the Reform, the matter was brought to the whole country to decide. The election was held on a Sunday to make it easier for people to vote (unlike in the US where elections are held on Tuesday when most people are working). While only half of the 16 million registered voters took part in the election, a low turnout by Venezuelan standards, it is still much more than in US national elections that generally involve only around 25 percent of eligible voters.

In addition, US pundits decried Chavez's government and paths for change, but his process is still much more democratic than what we have here. For example, there is no electoral college in Venezuela that can reverse the popular vote like it can in the US (remember Gore's victory over Bush in the 2000 popular vote, but his loss in the electoral college when the 9-member Supreme Court certified Florida's crooked election).

Also, Chavez brought his Reform to the public -- contrast this with how the US Patriot Act was decided by Congress in cahoots with the Executive Branch. US voters had no say-so about this act, which has proven to be one of the most unconstitutional and draconian this country has ever produced.

No, I think the election was proof that Democracy is Alive and Well in Venezuela. And let's remember--the people were not voting for Chavez as President for Life. The Reform only asked that those who do run for president can do so indefinitely (including Chavez). The people would still need to elect them. This is a big difference over "President for Life."

Venezuela is in a difficult revolutionary process. It is still moving faster toward social and economic justice than most countries in the hemisphere. But it is also deeply divided, which the US has exacerbated through its varied media/propaganda and clandestine/military destabilization efforts.

Hovering over this process, like in most of Latin America, is the economic might, military prowess and political machinations of the United States government. Remember, the US government was involved in the overthrows of democratically-elected reform governments like Arbenz in Guatemala and Allende in Chile? (and others around the world). From our previous acts and positions, we have no right to judge.

I truly hope the Venezuelan people--especially the poor and working class that are virtually abandoned in most countries--can forge a society and government worthy of their ideals, courage, history, and needs.

With or without Chavez.

For now, the Bush Administration should stand back and stop putting down a process that is wholly more democratic than most countries in the world, including the United States. As far as I can see, the election was a victory for the Bolivarian Revolution because it proved a process of change was still up to the people to decide.

The Personal Healing of Age-old Plant Medicine in Peru

From Venezuela, after spending 10 days there for the Feria Internacional del Libro (International Book Fair) in Caracas, I went directly to Peru where I hooked up with my old friend and fellow Mexika healer Tekpaltzin (Frank Blazquez) of DeKalb, IL. This was on November 18.

I flew into Lima and the next day I took another flight into the Amazon jungle to a sleepy and tropical place called Puerto Maldonado near the Bolivia/Brazil borders. At the airport I received a vaccination shot for Yellow Fever that's supposed to last 10 years. I got a certificate for this and then went to meet Frank.

Frank had already spent a few days in Puerto Maldonado before I arrived. I got there in almost 100-degree shirt-clinging weather. He introduced me to a Quechua-speaking medicine man from the jungle named Panduro. Maestro Panduro does many amazing ceremonies, but he's known as one of the few who are considered real masters of the healing powers in the Ayahuaska plant, which comes from these jungles and has been used to heal for tens of thousand of years.

For more than ten years, I have been doing indigenous medicinal ceremonies with peyote. It turns out both the Raramuri (my mother's tribal roots) and the Huichol (my wife Trini's) peoples of Mexico have been doing peyote ceremonies for tens of thousands of years. The peyote ceremonies I took part in were under the expert guidance of a Navajo medicine man from Lukachukai, AZ named Anthony Lee. His family also adopted my wife Trini, and subsequently the whole family, and we've been back to the Navajo rez every year since then for all-night prayer meetings, sweats, and other ceremonies.

Once with the help of Tekpaltzin, I consumed Huachuma, also from Peru (and also known as the San Pedro cactus). But Ayahuasca comes from plants. Maestro Panduro explained how the preparation also includes the Chacruna plant, another healing plant from the Amazon.

Being in the Amazon, it turns out, is the best place to take Ayahuasca. I first tried Ayahuasca last year in Qosqo (Cuzco) and Lima when Trini and I (and three other members of our San Fernando Valley sweat lodge circle) did healing work with Aeli Ronin of Lima and Maestra Dona (Dona is an indigenous woman from Iquitos, Peru, also in the Amazon).

This was a very strong and healing experience, but I always felt I needed something more. This time I needed to do this in the jungle with one of the best known masters of Ayahuasca use. Frank arranged this after he had already undergone some intense experiences with Maestro Panduro a few years ago.

We stayed in a couple of small and cheap hostels in Puerto Maldonado, which turned out to an amazingly alive and compact city in the Madre de Dios department. At the first hostel, we were directly across the street from the main marketplace, full of people, products, noises, and smells. Motor scooters and three-wheeled motored vehicles were everywhere, the main way for people to get around. For one sole, which is about 30 cents, you can get a ride almost anywhere in town in a motorbike or three-wheeled motored vehicles (these were the "taxis" around here).

However, the noise of dogs barking, roosters, and early-morning preparations for the marketplace got Frank and I up earlier than we wanted. We found another hostel for about $13 a night (the first one was about $8 a night) in a more quieter section of town and decided to move.

We met Panduro's wife, his 11-year-old son, and other family members. Panduro, 55, also has an older daughter and son who are both out of the house. Panduro does most of his ceremonies in the large front room of his house built specifically for this.

After showing us around and eating at some fantastic local spots (although we were on a red-meatless/dairyless diet), we prepared for the first night of my ceremony. Frank had already gone through a night of Ayahuasca healing before I arrived.

I won't go into the details of this ceremony. It may come up in poems or other writing, or not at all. But I will say this--the ceremony was intense, difficult, painful, but also most healing. I got a dosage similar to those given in the pueblo. Apparently a number of US groups come down here for Ayahuasca ceremonies, but they are most often introduced to this on a much milder level.

What I went through was what the old veterans of these ceremonies have been doing for years. The first night was wild and amazing. The next night was supposed to help bring some loose ends together and a measure of closure. But it turned out to be more intense than the first.

Not only that but because of the trouble that Maestro Panduro saw me in, he brought me another large dosage of the medicine later in the evening. I went through quite an experience. As much as I wanted to back off, to run away, to just let this go, I didn't let on that I would even consider this. I took all the medicine Panduro felt I needed and carried out his instructions. I didn't come all this way just play around or to lose heart.

Of course, the fact my 32-year-old son Ramiro is behind bars in a state prison in Illinois also helped me stay strong for whatever the medicine felt I needed. Many prayers went out his way.

In addition, I've had a particularly hard year in 2007 -- the year of my last 52-year cycle under the Mexika calendar. Tia Chucha's Bookstore & Cultural Center was forced to move out of its space early in the year--a massive project that we're still reeling from (fortunately, we're in a new location with our programming in full force). I also had to see my mother placed into a home for Alzheimer's patients, one of the most painful things I had to see happen. I also suffered through an ass-kicking attack of gall stones (that sent me to the emergency room) and several weeks of pain due to slipped disks in my back that had me unable to get out of bed for a while.

Also, my 30-year-old daughter Andrea and my 11-year-old grand-daughter, Catalina, moved away from the house after being with us for six years--although this was the right thing to happen as Andrea finds her independent way in her career and as a single mother (we'll always be there for her).

But, man, do I miss them.

I withstood all this, including some hard times with Trini. And in the end, I feel much stronger, more centered, and ready to take my writing, my health, Tia Chucha's work, my family's situation, and community work to new and higher levels.

The medicine is still in me--it'll be with me for the rest of my days, intertwined with my DNA. I'm not sure if or when I'll need to do another ceremony in the Amazon. But for now I'm taking what I've already undergone as far as I can -- to maintain my sobriety, but also for a re-generative push into new layers of what I must do in my life, for my family, for my art, for our community, and in this world.

We're at the ends of times. We're also at the beginnings of something new and vital. The world is unraveling, but we must also get a hold of the new threads the future is handing us, and with awareness of self with awakened & initiated souls to help re-imagine and re-weave the world.