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Carole Chinn-Morales

His English Name was Aaron

Remembering Quang Trang. April 18, 2018

 A homeless man—helpless

Was murdered

next to a historic

community-serving agency

in Chinatown

beneath a six-foot cross

 

A cruel violent act

carried out viciously

 

Last Sunday morning

Quang Tran, a homeless man

our neighbor

lay prone on the ground

in his spot on Joice alley

Wrapped in his blood soaked sleeping bag

while unaware church goers drove

Into the parking lot as usual a few feet away

Lenora noticed

So senseless and horrendous

The mind reels helplessly

Was it drugs alcohol psychosis

an act of revenge

We may never know

Countless souls like Quang Tran

wander the streets of San Francisco daily

hoping for a single restful night

without danger

 

In shadowy doorways

dimly lit sidewalks

under freeway overpasses

shivering in the penetrating cold

All over the city alone

Quang Tran was one of these

 

Our eyes have been opened

We will never be the same

The wound is raw and gaping wide

Reflection Questions:

Despite a small recent drop, homelessness rose 27% nationally and 64% in California since 2014. A disproportionate number were Black, Latiné, or Indigenous. 

 

What systemic factors led to the increase?

Has your esponse to the unhoused shfifted over time? If so, why?

NTA. Notice To Appear

 

A traumatized 

Three year old darkhaired boy

A toddler

Torn ruthlessly from his family

Is asked to appear in a courtroom

To testify at his own deportation hearing

 

Given a list of attorneys

Though he cannot read

Unaware of what a lawyer is or 

why he should need an advocate

Not knowing what a legal proceeding is

What deportation is

Not English-speaking

Unable to say in English 

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

 

Enters the dark wood paneled courtroom 

Alone trembling not looking up

A room bigger than his whole house in El Salvador

Filled with strangers he has never seen before

Directed to sit down by a gruff foreign sounding voice

Sit down! Sientate!

 

Climbs onto a tall wooden chair

Awkwardly without help

His tiny feet dangling 

Looking up at the judge 

With wide inquisitive eyes

Oversized earphones meant for adults

Are placed gently over his tiny head 

as if the child 

will comprehend accurately 

If he hears the Spanish translation

 

The judge peers down over the side of his desk 

asking his first question

“Do you have a lawyer?”

 

Puzzled, the child moves his head slightly 

Looks around the room

Eyes widening lips trembling

Legs continuing swinging

Only faster 

Then suddenly bursts into tears

 

The judge, looking exasperated

Trying to maintain decorum

Sighs

Adjusts his glasses 

Picks up his pen and 

Wonders if this is justice

His third child so far this morning

Eyewitness acount by a volunteer immigrantion court monitor.

Reflection questions: Why are independent court monitors important? Why does the judge wonder if "this is justice"? What does it mean to bear compassion witness through the arts? What is "compassion fatigue," and how do you cope with it.

 

Previously published in Civil Liberties United: Diverse Voices from the San Francisco Bay Area, Pease Press, 2019.

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Carole Chinn-Morales, a former teacher, was born and raised in San Francisco’s Chinatown. A mother and grandmother, she remains part of an active, closeknit community at the Presbyterian Church in Chinatown. She came to writing only after retirement. Taking a series of workshops offered by her neighborhood YMCA, something new was ignited within her, as she discovered her voice through poetry.

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