Californians in the crosshairs of class war will continue to pay for their mere existence
My phone buzzes. The notification reads “Breaking News.” I already know what the rest reads. My heart sinks into my gut. The reality sets in. Somehow, some way, we are living in some twisted, perverted, diabolical déjà vu, right back where we were eight years ago.
I am brought back to that night eight years ago. Brought back to the pain, the fear, the anger. I was in a much different place then, in the company of different people. One person in particular, whom I love very much, and miss terribly. The ripple effect of this terrible news is that I get to relive not just one, but several traumas that are being triggered right now. Most vividly, I wish I was able to hold this person, to comfort them—as I know they are scared too right now. I wish I was able to tell them, once again, “It’s not okay, but we will be okay.” I wish I was able to lean into their strength and love as much as they lean into mine.
The shock eventually wears off, followed by sadness and fear. The next emotion I feel is unmistakable. It is anger. Anger about the person who will lead the so-called free world, but even more so at the local and state election results that stream in one after another.
The results of California propositions light up my phone screen. Over and over again, I am sickened, disappointed, and disgusted with my fellow Californians.
For starters, Prop. 6. This was supposed to be the most obvious, in my opinion. I thought, “surely, in 2024, in the state of California, the issue of whether or not slavery should be legal in correctional facilities will be an obvious, overwhelming ‘NO’. But my news feed tells me something different. A much scarier truth. Much more than inconvenient, this truth is dangerous. This truth tells me that regardless of the overwhelming disproportionate effect that incarceration has on Black and Brown communities, that those most impacted still, in 2024, are subjected to the harsh indignities of slavery.
Apparently, the folks that had any common sense were home sick the day they wrote the Fourteenth Amendment. Past that, I can only imagine that this inequitable result is only a result of the lack of votes from those most impacted by its existence—specifically, BIPOC communities, the unhoused, and those struggling with substance use.
Then, I read the next upsetting result. In addition to the measure that will allow the slavery of incarcerated individuals, now the state is going to up the ante on what constitutes a felony. As mentioned before, the same marginalized, targeted communities will also be disproportionately affected by Prop. 36. This measure will exist in cooperation with the continuation of indentured servitude within California prisons, and further criminalizes already vulnerable communities struggling with poverty and substance use. In its exact language, Prop. 36 promises to “issue more severe sentencing for certain theft and drug crimes, lowering the statute for a felony from $950 in retail theft crimes, and to repeat drug offenders.”
Last but certainly not least was Prop. 33, which would have repealed the Costa-Hawkins Rental Housing Act of 1995, making it easier for cities across the state to enact rent control ordinances that would limit rent increases for new tenants. This was the one that got my attention the most, as it seemed to have the most false information about it leading up to the election. Touted as an anti-housing measure, the proposition was a thorn in the side to developers who hold enough capital to create and profit off of affordable housing.
To understand the misleading language here, you first have to understand the misnomer of “affordable housing.” It is not the face-value answer to homelessness that it seems to be. In fact, to be considered affordable housing, the cost of the unit or the property only has to be considered affordable to someone who makes a median income of $70,000 per year. That’s hardly affordable to the majority of Californians. It’s certainly not affordable to the 300-plus individuals that were evicted from Wood Street for the construction of a new affordable housing project on the site. Furthermore, of the 300-plus individuals who were removed from their community so that affordable housing units could be built, not one person was offered housing there.
What Prop. 33 actually stood to do was to reinstate rent control; something that would actually prevent the continuing uptick in the homeless population. It would fix a core issue that directly results in higher homeless percentages each year. But it was touted as something that would stand in the way of helping the homeless. In fact, even the Governor himself was noted as speaking out against it. So, why was this the case? Could it be that the Governor stands to benefit from the creation of these so-called affordable housing sites? Or from the continuing violence of sweeps of unhoused, curbside communities?
What appears so obvious to me seems to have missed the eye of the seven million registered voters in California that are at or below the poverty level. It’s bad enough that voters have decided that forced slavery will continue in prisons and jails, but now we have also ensured that those who are already in the crosshairs of class war continue to pay for their mere existence. How dare we exist in perpetually gentrified neighborhoods? Who are we to sleep outside and live off the land when the newly minted lower class pays $2000 a month for an “affordable” apartment across the street from our encampments? Why should they have to work three jobs if—as it’s been misconstrued throughout our culture and political climate—people on the street are getting everything for free?
These are the lies that the status quo has convinced us to believe. This is the false narrative that makes me cringe when I hear it from the lips of my fellow class war veterans. How is it that even our own have been convinced that they are a plague on society, and for nothing more than simply existing? Our Black, Brown, and Indigenous communities; our poor, our unhoused, our drug users; these are the people who will be the subject of further criminalization, demonization, and fatality as a result of these policies.
What we need are more people in positions of power that mirror our virtues and know our real needs. We don’t need continued slavery in correctional facilities, we need correctional facilities abolished. We don’t need forced treatment; we need safe consumption sites. We don’t need more severe punishment for theft crimes, we need universal income programs and rent control.
As our country, our politics, and our people veer more towards the right, it’s never been more clear that bipartisanship has become a profit-driven illusion of democracy. What we need is an actual democracy and a choice of candidates that actually represent our values, fight for our needs, and amplify our voices. Until those candidates exist, and until we are given more than two “choices” that teeter between “the lesser of two evils,” we will continue to spiral into the abyss of chaos, a Trump-led dictatorship marketed as “democracy.” What we have is a wolf in patriot’s clothing.
Freeway is a writer, an artist, and an activist. They also serve their unhoused community through their work with the Wood Street Commons and as President of the Oakland Homeless Union. Their work has been published in Street Sheet and the Oakland Tribune, as well as other publications.