cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Off The Reservation I'm doing something dumb. For about a month, I worked on a front page feature for a local paper that looks at our local immigrant population and how they would be affected by the incoming administration. I got to know people involved with a small non-profit that helps undocumented immigrants. They are doing really important work on very little money. They have essentially no ties to the Anglo community. The story is running in 2 or 3 days. Tonight I decided to email a friend and source who does a pretty good job of organizing and promoting concerts in the local goth and alternative music community. Those people feel marginalized. Well, try waiting to be rounded up and thrown into concentration camps and you'll feel fucking marginalized. I've asked him to take the nominal lead in organizing a fund-raiser for this non-profit. I have another friend who owns a small, local conglomerate of radio stations that I'm pretty sure will partner on it. I also know the manager of a venue that will almost certainly let us put this on in their space. This isn't something that I am supposed to do as a journalist but it feels like the right thing to do. The effect of having a bunch of white people showing up and donating money to help brown-skinned people who do shitty jobs and are completely invisible here is really important. And I like the idea of putting a lot of Mexican and Central American immigrants in a room full of goths and punks for a unified cause. I still feel like a temporary person. No real future, no plans. I don't function properly by myself. I miss decorating. Planting bulbs. Cooking for someone. I want to exist again. 1:16 a.m. - 2017-01-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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