November 15, 2017 carnegie newsletter

NOVEMBER 15, 2017

CaRrnOe'gie t.

NEWSLETTER

camnews@vcnbcca

401 Main Street, Vancouver BC V6A 2T7 604-665-2289 email: carnnews@shaw.ca Website/catalogue: carnegienewsletter .org

THE PIANO MAN Stan Hudac (March 3, 1948 - October 12, 2017)

.Remembering Stan Hudac I met Stan Hudac when we were both staying in the dorm at Dunsmuir House, and introduced him to Carnegie shortly after that.

I always enjoyed listening to Stan tell me about his interesting life, and will relate here what he told me to the best of my memory. He was born in Czechoslovakia in 1948 when it was controlled by Soviet Russia Stan joked that the authorities even wanted to know when you farted, because it meant that you had food they could ~onfiscate. Stan's parents were intelligent & accolT~phshed and handled the situation as best they could. HIs Dad was an engineer and an amateur music~an. His M~m was a pharmacist & herbalist who provided remedies when people got sick. She also made sure Stan practised piano diligently. Stan's dad had a musical combo which gave performances in the community and Stanjoined them when he was 12 or 13.

He got used to playing in public at an early age.

There were Italian roots on both sides of his family, and when Stan was in his early teens his parents sent h~~ to R~me, telling the authorities he was going to VISItrelatives. But the real purpose was for Stan to study music at the Conservatory, and he didn't return; to Slovakia for 30 years. There was a strict orientation to classical music at the school. Students were forbidden to play jazz but that didn't stop them from learn. ing it on the sly.

Stan eventually established a career for himself as a ja~z pianist in Europe. He got personally acquainted with some well-known performers; one of his friends wrote the ~it song Volare. For one particular gig, Stan was asked If he could play Take Five by Dave Brubeck. Thinking this would involve being part of a combo, Stan said yes. When he discovered it would be just him playing solo, he spent an intense week

successfully learning to play the unusual rhythm with his left hand while simultaneously improvising or playing the melody with his right. He was justifiably proud of this accomplishment, and Stan's version of Take Five was a treat to hear.

Stan related to me how circumstances conspired, when he was in Los Angeles, to allow him to peek inside Liberace's house and see the pianos he had there.

He also spent time in New York, doing gigs and meeting other jazz musicians. Eventually Stan married a Quebecois woman & settled down in a Montreal suburb. For some time, he worked his Piano Man magic all over the Province of Quebec. Rene Levesque & the Separatists were elected in 1977; Stan & his wife thought it best to move to Vancouver. He got established fairly quickly, playing in hotels. Eventually he became the piano man at a Vancouver restaurant and played 7 days a week for 12 years.

One wintry day Stan slipped and fell on some ice and broke his left hand. And just like that his career was ove:. Though he recovered enough to be able to play a~aI.n,he told me that he never knew at what point in a gig It would stop responding properly and he would need a rhythm section to cover for him. He could still flyover the keys and do fabulous solos with his right hand, of course. But he felt he could no longer trust his body to deliver the standard of performance demanded of a professional pianist.

This unfortunate event was a blessing for the people of the Downtown Eastside. Stan now considered himself a retired gentleman who made music for the love of it. Ifhe hadn't told me of the difficulties he experi~nced with his left hand, I would have never guessed It. He was always more than willing to play for dinners, dances or other events in the neighbourhood.

I had the pleasure of playing with Stan on many oc. casions. Despite his obvious virtuosity, he never acted .~ ifhe were above the rest of us. Making music to the best of our collective abilities was always the common .goal. Stan's mastery of his instrument allowed him to display his natural showmanship.

A few years ago, there was another slip&fall, and this time Stan broke his right wrist. He had to have a ~eries of operations and it looked like his piano-playmg days were over. But Stan turned this apparent tragedy into an opportunity to demonstrate courage, faith and d~t~rminat~on.He went to therapy sessions using electricity to stimulate movement where his thoughts could not. "Slowly, slowly, little by little" Stan taught

his hands to play again. He had to adapt, to figure out new ways of playing that were physically available to him despite limitations imposed by the pins & screws holding his bones together.

In the last couple of years ofStan's life he seemed to be spending most of his time with a female friend. The rest of us ran into him only occasionally. When I encountered her a couple of months ago and she asked if I knew where he was, I got concerned. I got his phone number from Larry M and Cindy called on her phone.

We were happy when he answered, and during the conversation, he mentioned he'd been doing some recording at the Bryan Adams Studio. I congratulated him on that and said that even though we didn't see him very often he's always in our hearts. He said, "Thank you. That means a lot to me." Cindy spoke to him and didn't seem to want the conversation to be over. But of course, all good things must come to an end (or so the old saying goes).

In our hearts, though, we know there is no real beginning or end to anything or anyone, and one day we will awaken from this dream of physical reality, which seems to begin with birth and end with death.

Though I am not aware of any actual Irish connection that Stan ad, he often did seem to me to be something of a Leprechaun, and he enjoyed it immensely when I told him this. And so, Stan Hudac, I salute you from this earthly end of the rainbow and picture you with your heart's desire - your "pot of gold" - at the other.

By MIKE RICHTER

"When Stan played I was mesmerized on his ability in ' just tickling the old ivory during Carnegie Events." ~Priscillia T

Reflections of Stan Hudac

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Way back around the year 2000, I-was running the music program at Carnegie. One afternoon a gentleman came into the theatre wearing a tie, casual dress pants and a leather jacket. I thought he was an archi-:' tect looking around the building for an upcoming renovation. He looked intently at the people playing on the stage and waited for a break in the music. When we finished our song, he asked what was happening.

We explained the music program, and he asked ifhe could play. We said sure. He sat at the piano and started in. Holy crap! We looked at each other amazed. It was, of course, Stan Hudac.

Some of us were interested in playing jazz, and Stan was a guy who had lived and breathed it - it was in his bones. We became friends and played a lot of music together over the years.

I have found that no matter what music you play, at some point your mind state comes through and people are either drawn or repelled by that mind state. I always thought Stan's playing was "sparkly" and happy, and people were certainly drawn to it. I would listen to recordings of famous jazz legend piano players, but I always thought Start's playing was the most "sparkly."

Stan told us many stories about playing and touring . and such. One I remember quite well was when he was young playing' with gypsies in Europe. They were playing out of tune and lots of wrong notes but very heartfelt. Stan thought it sounded horrible, but the gypsies were very touched by the music and thought it was a superb moment. After somebody else, and possibly even Stan, was playing another tune, but this time in tune all the right notes, but the gypsies thought it sounded horrible, something was missing, it was not music at all.

My parents had a 50th wedding anniversary in Victoria, so Stan and I played for the party. It was mostly older people who grew up with a great appreciation for live music. And even music before amplification.

They were Brubeck fans to boot. They loved Stan and it was a great experience.

I, like many others, have shared some wonderful moments with Stan. I am grateful to have known him.

If there are heavenly worlds then I would guess Stan is there, and if there isn't he certainly made the most of this one.

Ken T, Music Program and Security

I looked forward to every time Stan sat behind a piano because you knew we were in for a good time, showmanship and some soulful jazz / blues.

He ~as a great talent who did it his way and always made It look so effortless and fun. His laugh; his sense of hum or; his hand shakes, his music He will truly be missed.

MarkB.

Forever in My Heart

Forever in My Heart Stan Hudac was born with a natural talent. At the age; On October 12,2017, my husband Stanislav (Stan) of six he already had special ability at his fingertips: .

Hudac passed away, leaving me behind in the deepest he disciplined his touch as well as sharpened his lissorrow . .I will never stop loving you. I miss hearing tening powers and, gradually, became well-trained as you play the piano. I miss the sound of your voice and a pianist. the wisdom in your advice. You said, "Don't cry beStan was a professor of music (PhD) and studied at cause you're not gone. Your soul is at rest. Your spirit Snta Cecillia Conservatory of Music in Rome, Italy. lives on " The pain goes over me again & again. I cry At 18 years old, he did calibration and arrangements for you.

I feel your presence around me. You even with Ennio Moricone for a movie called Once Upon a place your arms around me. You kiss me. You watch Time in the West. In addition my husband Stanley did me as I sleep.

I dream about you. You're so handsome arrangement for recording in any musical style (both You are in the White Light and have no more pain. standards & commercial music) and as a master piaMy love for you is a journey, starting at forever and nist he was actively involved in working with many ending at never. well-known musicians for many years. His powerful Don't feel sad you have a life in Heaven that was deplaying style is easily recognizable in venues from telnied to me. This past summer you said, "Come with evision, film, radio programs and The Bryan Adams me?" At the time your hope of peace was to exit this Foundation (The Warehouse Studio). corrupt world with me. You didn't want to leave-me & A full orchestra could be heard in the background I didn't want you to go. I'm the fortunate one who with Stan playing the piano for Frank Sinatra as he knows you, who loves you and you are very special to sang The Lady is a Tramp. me, more than you will ever know. Thank you for the Stan knew many celebrities personally. He told me beautiful life r had with you. In spirit world we will he played piano at a dinner party with guests that inknow each other more fully than we do now. I love cluded Calvin Klein & his partner. "Calvin Klein is so you so much.

I love you forever with all of my heart. classy," Stab said. Attributed to him: "Believe you know better than what people are telling you to do."

Your wife Marilyn Tsinigine

A Huge THANK YOU to Everyone Involved in the 14th Annual Downtown Eastside Heart of the City Festival!

This year's festival featured hundreds of local residents and artists sharing the stories, hopes, dreams and issues of our community, with a focus on honouring women of the Downtown Eastside. It is an honour and privilege to work with all of you.

A heartfelt thanks to all the artists, participants, audience members, community partners, funding partners, supporters, staff, volunteers, work teams and friends for your participation in another extraordinary festival. The Festival is strong because of the relationships, collaborations and partnerships we create together.

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Next year's Annual DTESHeart of the City Festival takes place Wed. Oct 24 to Sun. Nov 4, 2018. The theme we are working with is Seeds of Justice/Seeds of Hope. If you have a project or a program idea to contribute or suggest for next year's festival, give us a call: 604-628-5672, or talk with Rika 604-665-3003. www.heartofthecityfestival.com

Recipe for Honour 2 cups of Celebrating Oneself.

Remember you are unique and have strengths others can see though you may not 1 cup of

Commending others through hugs or kind words

% cup of Loving Mother Earth She nurtures us as we are.

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cup of Commemorating those you love who have passed on.

Send them your loving thoughts.

Sift and blend all ingredients with good intentions and sprinkle sparkles of tears and laughter.

Finally, sit and enjoy with a cup of hot tea!

Priscillia Mays (Stay Beautiful at Heart)

5

HEART OF THE CITY My heart belongs to the Heart of the City belongs centred in Carnegte Community belongs to friends who care belongs to community

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Carnegie Learning Centre gives purpose to all who come to teach and learn Thursdays Writing Collective connects us all to enhanced creativity

Jenny Kwan Constituency Office Now Open MP for Vancouver NOP Immigration,

Best cafeteria in town feeds the tummy in a dining room where conversation feeds the soul My heart belongs to the Heart of the City

Critic

THE SANDY CAMERON MEMORIAL WRITING. CONTEST, dubbed the "first annual" by Heart of the City Festival director Terry Hunter, was very success-

We are body brain mind spirit who unite hearts in the Heart of the City hearts in community that reflects and refines local and world culture with people of every colour whose hearts all bleed red who all belong to Heart of the City Gilles Cyrenne

urtderS"tandable "I'm just sitting here, watching the river flow."

-Bob Dy/an The pain in our hearts isn't going anywhere.

Telling others of our pain will not help us. .

What helps a heart full of pain is hearing the pam of others, for this tells us there is still room m our hearts.

The Happy Caterpillar

East Refugee and Citizenship

Writing Contest, a "real inspiration"

We are downtown's living room full with games food culture theatre compassion creativity learning sharing fighting for social justice housing with more commitment per cubic inch to community than anywhere else in this city

Room for a well, for example.

Now if you an~ a stickler, you can fil the well. you build in your heart with your tears, the way Alice (accidently) would have, but trust my p~n-puppet, tap water wi1l do (metaphorica Iy-speakmg) since tap water comes from the earth, who some call Mother.

2572 E Hastings Street Vancouver, BC V5K lZ3 Tel: 604-775-5800 Fax: 604-775-5811 Email: Jenny.Kwan@parl.gc.ca

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ful. At the awards ceremony, held in Camegie's theatre NovAth, both writers and those supporting this media came to see authors & hear the selected pieces.

The first group receiving Recognition for Merit included the following writers: Patrick Fo\ey, Angela Hobson, Jackie Humber, Ruby Diamond, Lee Turner, Mary O'Toole and Ira Zbarsky.

The next group included three writers, each getting an Honourable Mention. They are Barbara Morrison, Phoenix Winter and Joseph Lopez. Both Barbara and Phoenix read their respective articles for the amusement and charm of the stories.

The Third place recognition went to Eric Blair for his hilarious piece No God, No Soup. He read it so fast there was almost no time to laugh until the end!

Second place recognition went to Kim Washburn for his previously printed story about the Oppenheimer Memorial Pole - Remembered, his memory trail from being lost to sobriety through carving.

First place recognition goes to Debra McNaught for her piece Say Goodbye, reprinted in this issue.

Thank you to Priscillia for soliciting donations for prizes, to Natalie for a stack of good books, to Lucy for a bunch of new pens, to Deleine for prize help, tp Terry & Teresa for support, to the five mysterious people who acted as reviewers/judges and thanks most of all to the 27 individuals who put down their energy.

And especial thanks to Lisa David for keeping everything together.

Respectfully, PatilR Taylorreditor.

7

Say Goodbye

There are a lot of people in Vancouver who think of our community as a dark place where everyone is already (or should be) marked for death, as though the adage "Life is Cheap" is especially applicable to the Downtown Eastside. Yet the fact remains we do lose far too many people down here, and at times - especially with the fentanyl crisis - life expectancy in the DTES has more relation to the third world than the rest of Canada. It would be unrealistic to paint our losses as more tragic than any other neighbourhood though, because every death is sad for somebody, but when we lose one of our own there's a good chance we are looking at the end result of sixteen years of Liberal neglect, following a decidedly non-stellar performance by the NDP, and that we die faster, and sooner, and earlier. But it seems especially bitter when our community loses a leading light, someone respected as a voice raised against injustice or poverty rights or housing or the archaic drug laws, because the loss seems to resonate deeper, the sudden silence more profound. Our heroes are a deeply precious resource and we can't afford to lose any of them needlessly.

Living in the DTES requires a unique set of survival skills, and you can start to feel a bit jaded as the Cheque Week sirens banshee endlessly, but to see a friend, an acquaintance, or even just someone whose face has become familiar reduced to poster on a lamp standard and the finality of ashes squeezes your heart far too often.

The involuntary Oh no that escapes as you stare, stunned, at the face of the Departed, the inevitable dates and details of the impending celebration of a life just ended.

When we lose someone it's like a bad joke, at first. You wait to see if hope beyond hope they reappear, all smiles, sorry to scare you. You find yourself wondering IfI phoned would they answer? In that black midnight of mourning you clutch the spare key to their place and want badly to go find them sleeping peacefully. And worse, • had you been there to begin with, could you have saved them?

It takes time for the hole in your heart to heal over when you lose someone close, someone you maybe even love. In everyone's life there are never too many people to love, there's always room for more, and every loss can leave you reeling, adrift, anchorless, wounded all over again. The scar fades but never disappears, and there are people down here whose hearts have been rendered down to pure scar tissue. Sure, everybody has to die; in fact, it's the last thing you'll ever do, but so so many of the deaths down here' are far too preventable, and in our community the hits have been coming so fast there's no time to recover between blows. It puts you in danger of losing perspective, sometimes to the point of the Biggest Ask of all: what the hell is it all for? You might begin to doubt the rationale behind their existence, your own existence, about the seeming futility of continuing to struggle through all the deliberate bullshit constantly ladled over the DTES. And then one day the pain is no longer acute and you find you can deal, after all. But it never really goes away, and who will die tomorrow?

The trajectory line that had marked the life progress of the now departed stops with this undeniable finality that nothing can be done about, while your own line keeps moving inexorably westward into a sunset with your name on it. Y 0 pause sometimes, in vain hope, wanting to allow them to catch up, and that's when you remember all over again that they are gone. You save things to tell them and just as suddenly the air leaks out of that anecdote because they can't hear you anymore. If you're fortunate, you may see them in your dreams.

Once, in a dream, I wandered into this lovely old bar on Pender Street I'd never seen before, an unlikely occurrence in real life I might add. When the bartender turned around my jaw dropped: "What are you doing working here?" We fall to reminiscing, laughing, talking old times, old drinking stories untill stop cold. "But Peter ... you're dead?!?" "Yes," he admitted with a wink, "but 1 never got to say goodbye, did I?" It's only in Hollywood - and maybe in dreams - that you get to say goodbye.

First Place

By DEBRA McNAUGHT

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Build a bridge Crazy, unhinged, irrational, demented, weirdo or loony. These are only a few of the monikers given to persons who deal with mental iJlness on a daily basis, None of these terms are in any way positive but seem to accentuate the most negative connotations of most mental issues.

There is a book titled OSM-V or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders 5tlt Edition. In this text is described and diagnosed most al1of the known mental maladies. Symptoms are listed for the most part as behaviors that are deemed not to fit into normal life or society as proper. They are itemized and categorized like the linnean system of disorders.

These are then col1ated and measured in their intensity and put into categories of what this or that action is or does against tl1e scale of the reasonable or "normal" person. For instance, if a person speaks out loud to himself in a manner that may unsettle or disturb others and may have a disorderly outward appearance that could easily be decoded as schizophrenia, a terrible affliction to endure & greatly misunderstood.

Many other people have difficulty in dealing with rapidly changing emotions and thoughts. These can be debilitating and have effects that may never be seen by others. Isolation and extreme neglect are often carried over into these individuals' realities. Hiding like hermits in small cubicle like rooms. Alone and afraid.

FEAR, FEAR of the known or the supposed, FEAR of the unknown or the imagined. FEAR of action or inaction, both being arduous. FEAR of this, FEAR of

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that. Not the kind of a fear that is scared but a fear that is terrified, horrified to the detriment of one's own well being. Think if you can to be so in fear as to cause your own demise rather than live in that FEAR. Those who deal with these symptoms are sometimes the ones we see who exist and survive at the fringes of what is acceptable in the extreme, Homeless and drug addicted, living in tent cities and always in poverty. Often the disease is left so long unattended to that a life forms around the illness to preserve the person. Incarcerated by the mind and kept there by stigma and shame. How far down til one becomes too far gone?

In times past when there was a place & the resources to handle the issue many families simply put their family member away in a sanatorium or (another less clean-sounding word) asylum. Commonly known as lunatic asylum, the funny farm or psychiatric ward.

This was two-fold in some cases, some to experiment and research while others were simply to divest the immediate care or concern away from the family and society as a whole.

The cause of many disorders & conditions may still be a mystery to most. To fully understand as a layman would be impossible. It does seem to myself being a middle-aged man who deals with bipolar issues everyday that mental illness and a pervasive amount of it seems on the rise. Maybe for the reason that every disorder like most languages have in itself several ~ia-

lects and versions. Some are intense and chronic while others are passive and periodic brought on by seasons and/or environment and associated stressors.

I want to expel one of the most severe and offensive aspects to finding help and creating awareness.

EXCLUSION, EXCLUSION from family. EXCLUSION from employment. EXCLUSION from society and EXCLUSION from public spaces. That shame must be taken away. How can anyone get involved and get help if they cannot come in & be welcomed?

Granted more needs to be done. A bridge can only begin construction when a cable or a beam is able to fulfill the span first. The building can truly be started by reaching out with an open hand and a likewise heart. Then something can be done. I don't know the full solution; only that it can't be found without compassion coupled with empathy. WE & ME are part of the community that must start. We all know or have been associated with persons who deal with a diagnosed or undiagnosed mental ailment of their own.

Compounding an already insurmountable problem with ostracizing and exorcising these people does much greater harm. Imagine feeling so alone and ~nwanted like that puppy in the cage at the SPCA being there by no fault of their own and only wanting to belong somewhere.

MAKE THE EFFORT to not be judgemental. MAKE THE EFFORT to exercise compassion. MAKE THE EFFORT to see beyond the symptoms. MAKE THE EFFORT for understanding and awareness. MAKE THE EFFORT. I believe that when we look past the diseases of the mind and the various chemical imbalances that are at the root of many illnesses, we can find persistent treatment and allow for some time to adjust & grow. I can imagine much like a caterpillar that after a meta morphosis emerges as a beautiful butterfly.

...and stay in recovery I am responsible for my life. No one can force me to do anything I do not want to do. I need to stop blaming others for things that I am resentful about. Now having said that, I still need to acknowledge that I live in a society that is often racist, sexist, and homophobic and these ideologies have an influence on the choices I make but ultimately, the context of my reality is that I live in a world full of injustice. I can choose to speak out about oppression. I can join a group of citizens who want to rally against colonialism and poverty and that is also a choice I make. Or I can choose to ignore rampant injustice and stick my head in the sand and hope for the best.

On a personal level, my recovery from drugs depends on acknowledging the choices I have made, accepting my condition and getting rid of lingering resentments.

When a person feels they have no choice, a resentment can crop up which can lead to a relapse to the drug or drink of her choice. When a person feels like they have no choice, no option out of a dilemma that is dangerous and painful, that is when they may think suicide is the only option.

I know what that feels like. In my addiction I felt suicidal. But also I was brutally treated in the mental health system and experienced trauma in that institution. But it was my choice to do drugs which led me to incarceration. I may have had a very different life if I had not dabbled in substances. Having said that, I am not going to apologize about my schizophrenia, nor blame myself for being sick. I can still live an abundant life provided I do a simple few things, like take my medication and stay in recovery.

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D. Drost

By Ruby Diamond

l Loss vs Gain When 1 walked out the door I lost my Marriage; When I walked out the door I gained my Self.

Š Jacqueline

Angharad

Giles

A Short Talk on the Possessed Girl A Kirpan is a dagger whose edges bleed between fractured pages, its first fruits, and you say flippantly, brazenly, much too large, that I am a voiceless set of eyes that drip like a petulant monsoon, as she bows at the temple floor, feet twirling, open arms, like a Philomel caught in net, gray slabs of wind pouring onto the temple floor, hair in a mess, she cries out, writhing, foaming at the mouth, full of debauchery, a spectacle.

. a~d co.mn:ercial districts followed, shifting the shopping district south and west from the DTES. When the Carnegie Library closed in 1957 because the brand new one at Robson and Burrard was open for business, the last cultural touchstone down here died, and the streets got even darker. But Turvey never went back home.

We all make choices we regret but it is the scale of those choices that makes us who we are and what we do with them once made. The good ~nes tend to work in our favour, and their results can turn out to be highly beneficial. But when bad choices lead you off the b~aten path .it's not just finding your way b~ck again; the critical part turns out to be living WIth the consequences of those bad choices. Turvey overcame hi.s addictions, got out of the sex trade, and found himself volunteering --- for the rest of his natural life.

John Turvey - Ground Zero DTES Advocacy

By Debra McNaught Sometimes a life gets lived and survives as evidence someone was born at the right time and right place, even if the individual stuck actually doing the living doesn't see it from quite that perspective. I suspect John Wilford Turvey was one of those 'right time right place' people because he arrived at 'the corner' - as Hastings and Main was then known - in 1957.

He was 13 and already involved with heroin, yet despite this inauspicious arrival he went on to create much change for tf.J.egood in and for the Downtown Eastside.

John was born in 1944, out in the Fraser Valley, & had problems living the approved fundamentalist lifestyle that's pretty prevalent out there. Supporting himself by working in the sex trade, living the heroin life, he got to know the other outcasts who depended on one another in the late 1950s and early 60s in a neighbourhood that had fallen on progressively harder times. Hastings and Main used to be the most important intersection in the younger incarnation of .

III d Vancouver, but after City Hall decamped to 12 an Cambie in 1936 (the upper crust having long migrated to the tonier West End and even snottier Shaughnessy 'estates'), it wasn't long afterward th business

!urvey had a gift for seeing a better way of doing things, could enVISIOn a way to work around a critical gap, a roadblock, outdated legislation. And of course, when existing assumptions and social myths are challenged, when alternative, original solutions to problems are suggested, few are the politicians willing to be the first to step up. The now older 'lived e.xperi~ce' Turvey began working with the street kids, advancing into social work and then working for the Ministry outright. He ~tarted advocating for changes in the services and resources for what he saw as a true community of people living in the DTES, and like most people advocating for serious change he met with pretty much unanimous resistance from all levels of government. Some of t~e things he suggested were actually illegal (at the time), and he was repeatedly told no official entity would ever seriously consider risking their existence by supporting his ideas.

So, to start saving lives at risk ofHIV's climbing numbers in the mid-1980s street drug culture Turvey did what he felt he had to do; when he hit the streets with a shoulder bag filled with syringes and supplies he'd paid for out of his own pocket, it may have been the c~ntral moment of his life. Offering to exchange new ngs for used, cajoling promises from people to return tomorrow same time same place and h~'d,trad~ for more .clean rigs, and word got out. He didn t wait for fundmg, or respect prevailing policy .or wrangle pennission from the powers that be, he '

saw a need and just went out and did what he could to change it up.

His accomplishments became legend: he worked with Dr John Blatherwick, Vancouver's then-chief medical officer, to create Canada's first needle exchange, although others also claim that distinction.

He organized the Downtown Eastside Youth Activities Society (DEY AS) and helmed its transition over 20 years from street youth activities to a Harm Prevention mandate. In the 1990s he took on the Camegie for not allowing drug users to use the Centre. He had some serious issues with what he called the "harm-reduction mafia," specifically the regional health board officials who downplayed treatment in favour of congratulating themselves for being open to safe-injection sites to begin with, when treatment - especially treatment for young First Nations (Turvey argued) - was being ignored.

He was a founding member of the BC AIDS Network and the Native Health Society, and he served on the Board at the Ray-Cam for many years.

Yet for all the good he did he made one very serious mistake. When the list of disappeared First Nations women kept growing he alienated many in the community for his refusal to concede a serial killer(s) was on the loose. Worse, he supported the Vancouver Police Department for their refusal to take any serious action.

John Turvey was a man who was many things. He was controversial, compassionate, articulate and outspoken; he consistently outraged politicians, bureaucrats, health authorities by pointing out how their continued support for outmoded policies was killing.people ill the DTES and he refused to shut up about It. He was loved. He was resourceful strident courageous, hated, awarded. Above all he was one ' of a handful of ground zero pioneers that established resources and services completely unique to the urgent needs of the DTES, many of which continue to exist (albeit in different form) today. Turvey insisted this was a worthwhile community and he was passionately loyal to it. He forced much-needed changes to antiquated legislation, and never backed away from a fight he believed in. He received the Order of British Columbia in 2004, and the Order of Canada in 2006.

Illness forced him into retirement, and he died in 2006. He was one of ours.

.From the Library IOn behalf of the Carnegie, we want to congratulate Georgia Straight reporter Travis Lupick on the release of his new book, Fighting for Space: how a group of d~u!J.users transformed one city's struggle with addiction (2017). Please join Lupick in the Carnegie 1neatre on Saturday Dec. 2nd trom 4pm - ):JUpm tor an author reading launch celebration!

The book was a collaborative effort following the lives of two Vancouver women: Liz Evans who founded the Portland Hotel Society, and Ann Livingston, who eo-founded VANDU with Bud Osborn. Lupick is quoted as saying, "I hope that policy makers and activists in places like North Carolina and Florida really do pick up on what happened in Vancouver and try and take some of the lessons that we learned 20 years ago and apply them today." We will definitely be purchasing copies when it is launched this week! In the meantime, here are some readings Blowing Smoke: rethinking the war on drugs without prohibition and rehab (2012) by Michael 1. Reznicek. Dr. Reznicek recommends the legalization of drugs for adults and discusses how addiction is a psychological and biological issue. His approach focuses on dissuading users through different methods of comfort and support.

Chasing the Scream: the first and last days of the war on drugs (2015) by Johan Hari. A big picture discussion with personal stories about how drugs are affecting people around the war. From Portugal were all drugs have been legalized to a Jewish ghetto during !he Holocaust, Hari covers a wide range of addiction Issues.

From Reel to Real: an epic journey from addiction to recovery and redemption (2016) by Dwayne Higgins.

The author starts as a Hollywood set designer living the dream until life's stress and an addiction gets him deported back to Canada, and eventually to the DTES. After three suicide attempts he finally surrenders to an inner voice that leads him to love and hope.

Generation Rx: a story of dope, death, and America's opiate crisis (2014) by Erin Marie Daly. The author is overwhelmed by questions after her younger brother, an OxyContin addict overdosed at the age of 20. This book explains how the prescription transformed her brother, and is a personal memoir.

Your librarian, Natalie

....

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She "Rjses, We "Rjse I find it totally amazing & astonishing that a small group of Downtown Eastside community actors and . an extremely talented, creative support staff to work with, got an idea based on the theme of this year's Heart of the City Festival- honouring & celebrating the women in our lives who have been the bedrock of society for centuries. Then, in a very short span of time, roughly 2 months, this group worked tirelessly with extreme dedication & devotion to collectively write a play on Women, the Creator & reconciliation, to make a powerful statement on the unflinching strength & resilience of the women portrayed in the play.

The diverse cast of characters included a naive yet tenacious young girl who arrives in Vancouver all alone, searching for new life, trying hard to escape her sometimes harrowing past. Almost immediately she meets a person trying to deceive & exploit her into a dangerous lifestyle, as yet unknown to her. Along the way she meets a benevolent, wise traveller teling tales of her journey and taking the girl under her wing. The girl is also introduced t.oa howling wolf & a growling bear, and there is an ever-present eagle watching over

her, like a comforting, wamcloak of protection. And throughout all this she gathers guidance & an empowering spirit from an ancient cedar tree. • The entire ninety-minute play was full of surprises, twists & turns, at times both frightening & deeply emotional that draw you into both its magical & real world themes of the relentless struggles of women against overbuse, inequality & tremendous oppression to soldier for their inherent and deep-seated right to justice: absolute equality and reconciliation. After encountering & welcoming the inclusive cast of people's spirits - creatures including a descendant of colonists & an immigrant from Hong Kong & others - it culminates into a wonderful climax of success: forgiveness, justice, restoration & reconciliation. The players were all together in the end, hoping from then on to live in love, peace and harmony on Mother Earth, forever.

The play ends with an exuberant blast of song&dance and the audience, cast & crew all together as the jampacked theatre broke into a thunderous standing ovation with thank-yous, appreciation & mingling. People seemed to burst from the theatre with pride from accomplishing this feat & pulling off such an epic achievement. We will all meet soon down the road.

By ROBYN LIVINGSTONE

9:30 A.M. TO5 P.M. Including workshops on: ~ABC's 01 Residential Tenancy Board ~How to stand up to bad landlords ~Bedbug science class ~Learn from Los Angeles Tenant Union Orgamzers

vancou~er Tenants Union

~ [.

RUS'SIAN HALL

600 Campbell Ave. Vancouver Coast Salish Territories

FREE ~ Lunch included ~ Childcare available

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Beedie's 105 Keefer Development Permit Rejected by City Board Vancouver Chinatown Low-income Residents Allies Triumph Over Gentrification Project Vancouver, Unceded Coast Salish Territories - Today, November 6,2017, the City of Vancouver Development Permit Board (OPB) rejected Beedie Living's 105 Keefer development application (final vote of 2: 1) for a luxury condo project due to massive community opposition.

"Today is a new day. We're over the moon that the DPB finally put a stop to Beedie's profit-driven development and, instead, protect low-income residents .

•However, this is just the first step. Our elected leaders ;and Beedie need to get on with building what's been called for all along: 100% low-income housing and a public and free community space," Nat Lowe, CAG organizer, says.

Despite tonight's outcome, CAG and CCG demand the City provide language interpretation of the proceedings. The City again did not provide language interpretation of the proceedings until today, and only due to public pressure. Interpretation into English was counted as total the five minutes given to speakers. Volunteers who interpreted for Chinese-speaking residents were accused of being "distracting" and "disruptive" by a DPB member.

"CAG and CCG have made multiple requests for interpretation services. The City of Vancouver needs to review its procedures to end these racist and discriminatory practices & ensure community members have equal opportunities t participate in shaping their neighbourhood," says Jannie Leung, CAG organizer.

Beyond 105 Keefer, the Chinatown Action Group and Chinatown Concern Group vow to continue to build an intergenerational community of resistance across Vancouver to achieve solutions identified in the People's Vision for Chinatown and ensure the needs of lowincome residents are met.

[When the NP A, a business-party which ran City Hall for decades, last had its majority, it laid down strict rules on how the Development Permit Board could operate. It cannot legally reject any proposal on the basis of community opposition or gentrifying impacts on local populations. The Beedie Living luxury condos design was specified as the unacceptable aspect. If

Beedie comes back with an acceptable design then the majority on the DPB's only legal recourse will be to kick final approval back to City Council. Community pressure, less than a year before an election, can force the City to negotiate a deal. Struggle continues.]

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Carnegie Theatre Workshop We're back/or the Winter season!

"Show thou Carnegie workshop Players"

We'll put our ideas together for itA Christmas Pageant: You're Living in the Past, Grandma!"

Performance on Christmas Eve Sunday December 24

Creative sessions/rehearsals

'" watch for details '" Free, everyone welcome!

For more info: Teresa 604-255-940 I thirteenofhearts@hotmail.com

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Honourable Mention

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By Angela Hobson

My friend Gary recalls his brief encounter with death and overdose; He exclaims to me "Natural death and overdose death expressions are so different. A man or a woman who passes away by natural causes has a serene peace upon their face. They appear as if they just went to bed. When a man or woman "pass" by overdose their face appears to be in agony. Tormented."

Immediately my mind goes back to all my recollections of death and I agree with a warm smile. That is a very insightful observation. I read a holistic meditation magazine and one of the articles exclaims "The human soul weighs 121 oz." I had questions the article did not answer, questions like: Does everybody's soul weigh the same?

Where does this mass "the soul" go when our earthly bound bodies expire? (pass) I quietly silence my train of thought, where these questions of morality always seem to lead, I think too much about crazy theories of our existence and what human purpose is. I content myself "growing by learning how to be the best I can be, contributing to a greater positive whole", but sometimes it's hard for me to remember this phrase.

I've become so desensitized to the madness of the Downtown Eastside. I was coining myself "Disenchanted girl".

I moved here 3 years ago, living here on and off throughout the 3 years.

My first recollection of death in the Downtown Eastside is of a man laying in front of the Balmoral - on the side.J. walk beside a pole with a street sign attached. It was early morning and already becoming humid, and a paramedic I just stood beside him talking on the phone. I stood to take in all the action unfolding.

There he lay, sprawled out on his back and yes ... the tormented, pained face was frozen to the tragic expression.

-, They didn't even cover him. A small crowd of paramedics and firemen slowly began to buzz with activity. It was just then that I caught a glimpse of this dog. He was panting loud, lying beside the dead man. He was slowly becoming agitated; it was apparent due to his loud pant that was becoming shorter and laboured with every gasp. I could see a worker approaching with a stretcher and one fireman started asking in hushed tone to the initial paramedic who I first noted. "Is someone here to take this boy?"

The paramedic looked around and saw no one. I turned to look around me and there was no one even paying much note to the sad, deathly drama unfolding before me. The dog was old and silver fur adorned his head and neck. He was overweight, though his clean yellow fur gave evidence of a loved, well-cared-for companion. At this point his stressed eyeballs were bulging. The sirens and activity ofthe medic workers buzzing around seemed to confuse and scare him, I said it before I even had a chance to think: I quietly spoke up, "I've got him." The fireman immediately turned to leak at me and asked, "Do you know the deceased?" I replied, "Ya, kind of." I lied ... I didn't even have a home at the time. I was living on the streets in the cycle of addiction. " I can take this guy back to who usually watches him." I lied even more. I looked at the fireman who looked like he just wanted to get the hell out of the heat. I walked over and picked lip the crude makeshift leash, which was just a cut piece of rope that was fraying its way off. I said 'C'mon' out loud, as I pulled him to me. He slowly eased up to stand, wobbly and tired looking, and together we made our way up the side walk and onto the next street. It immediately became less busy and quiet. I looked at the old boy. His eyes were becoming hazed with a foggy white substance. His breathing had quieted, but was still laboured and coming in long gasps. I walked slowly with him up the bridge to Crab Park, and I could tell this was going to be the last walk to the beach the old guy was ever going to have. I brought him to the shallow water and the waves lapped at his paws. I could tell he was really trying to enjoy the moment, I ran my fingers through the soft tuffs of fur around his pointy ears. I knew what I had to do. What can I say? What WILL I say? " My love for the Creator's creations, big or small, is unselfish. I only want what's best for the Creator's animals."

And finally, "I'm a human humane person with the ability to help." What would you have done?

And this is my story of my first encounter with death by overdose.

Inclusive Governance in the Charitable & Non-profit Sector of the DTES PANEL DISCUSSION Monday, November 20 4:30 -7:00 PM SFU Woodwards - World Arts Centre 149 West Hastings Street The Downtown Eastside Neighbourhood House is developing a project called Let's Speak Up! which aims to reduce the barriers residents face when choosing to be engaged in the governance that impacts their community. Through dialogue, education and the commitment of local agencies we are planning to support the capacity development of already existing and potential inclusive Board composition.

Join us, non profit Board members, educators, and community members as we discuss the benefits of diversitj and what can be done to include more voices in a time of critical decision-making and flux.

A etizers and refreshments will be rovided If childcare or transportation

are barriers for your participation,

please contact matt@dteshouse.ca

Panelists Grace Tait - Associate

Director at YWCA Crabtree Corner Community and past and present member of numerous Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Boards of Directors Maria Turnbull - Associate Executive Director with Vantage Point and former eo-chair of Potluck Cafe Society Dean Wilson - Peer Engagement Lead at the BC Centre on Substance Use and former president of Vancouver Area Network of Drug Users (VANDU) Dr. Miu Chung Van - Director and professor at the UBC School of Social Work with a long history of working in and with non-profit organizations Bill WaIters - Project Lead for DiverseCity onBoard - Vancouver with an extensive career as a senior executive with the provincial government and in the non-profit sector Moderated by Trish Garner of the Poverty Reduction Coalition

Humanities 101 Humanities 101 Community Programme (Hum) offers free university-level courses for people who live on low incomes in and around the Downtown Eastside and Downtown South. Courses are for people who have encountered financial and other barriers to university education and who wish to expand their intellectual horizons in an accessible, challenging and respectful environment. Applicants need basic literacy skills, a willingness to attend classes at the UBC Point Grey campus, complete assignments and participate in class. Applications for these non-credit courses are accepted not on the basis of past academic history, but on the applicant's desire and ability to be part of the Hum Programme.

In November we are looking for people who would like to participate in our twelve-week hands on

Writing courses (Writing 101, and Writing 201) that start in early January. Each week a new genre and style of writing will be taught with a different teacher The classes cover short stories, memoir, screenwriting, poetry, manifestos, journaling, creative non-fiction and more. Participants receive school supplies, UBC cards, bus tickets to get to and from class, meal: and childcare if needed. Visit the website for more in formation, humanities 10 l.arts. ubc.ca, or contact t

h.u.m@ubc.ca 1604-822-0028.

To apply, you must attend an upcoming information/ application session: *The Gathering Place, 609 Helmcken St. (meeting room) Saturday November 25th at 11.00 a.m. * Carnegie Centre, Main and Hastings St. (third flooi Saturday Noven:b_~r.25th_ at 4.00 p.m.

Call for Public Inquiry into Fracking The ecological, health and safety, and climate costs associated with fracking are tremendous and poised to get worse. BC is long overdue for a thorough and transparent review of how natural gas is produced in this province.

That's why today we joined with a coalition of community, First Nation and environmental organizations to call on the provincial government to initiate a full public inquiry into all aspects of this dangerous gas extraction technique. Join us by adding your voice to the call at ccpabc.ca .

During the election period, the BC NDP made a campaign commitment to appoint a scientific panel to review fracking in BC. This commitment is a start, but it does not go far enough. To fully address the true risks of deploying this brute-force technology throughout northeast BC, we need a wide-ranging public inquiry.

Go to ccpabc.ca and ask BC's decision-makers to initiate a comprehensive inquiry into fracking.

Hydraulic fracturing or fracking involves pumping large volumes of water under intense pressure below ground to free gas trapped in tight rock formations.

Even without the emergence of an LNG industry, natural gas production in BC has jumped 70 per cent over the past decade with major customers (including Alberta's tar sands industry) fueling that growth. First • Nations, farming families and rural communities in the northeast region of BC are experiencing a litany of problems, including: - Water contamination and irresponsible use of water sources; - Poor or misleading consultation with First Nations; - The construetion of dozens of potentially dangerous unlicensed dams; - Substantially higher methane emissions than reported; and - Record-setting fracking-induced earthquakes.

Given such realities, a full public inquiry is the least British Columbians deserve.

The inquiry should focus squarely on these and other risks associated with fracking and what should be done about them. It should address whether or not provincial agencies adequately oversee fracking operations, ensuring that companies comply with existing laws and regulations, safeguard public health and protect the environment. The Inquiry must haye powers and sufficient funds to compel legal testimony, .J.,

commission professional research, and hold public hearings across BC. I hope you will join me and organizations like the Union of BC Indian Chiefs, David Suzuki Foundation, , Canadian Association of Physicians for the Environment, the Wilderness Committee, Keepers of the Water, West Coast Environmental Law, the Public Health Association of BC, Douglas Channel Watch, and many more, in calling for a public inquiry.

Add your voice now.

With thanks, Ben Parfitt CCPA-BC Resource Polic

i Sitting Shiva on Minto Avenue, by Toots A book just released through New Star Books is the story of a man who had no obituary or funeral & who would have left no trace if it weren't for the woman he called Toots, who took everything she remember- : ed of him and, for 7 days, wrote it down. Erin Moure takes Toots's scraps and weaves a good tale of the "little man" Paul Emile Savard, through memories & glimpses of urban life from Vancouver's Downtown Eastside & Main Street. Ask at the library or find it!

Being It is apparent that some landlords feel that if a tenant has not had a rent increase in 7 years that an increase above the allowable 2016-2017 percentage (3.7%) does not apply to them. For example: for 2017-2018, $465.00 +4% (RTB increase) = $483.60, rounded down to $463. But the new rate on the Increase Form is $490. Where did the extra $7 come from? This is an increase of 5.1% Tenants, look at your rent increases. If it is above what is allowable, bring this to your landlord's attention. What you pay now will affect what you pay in the future.

Being

THE second hand Like refreshing my memory with a sledgehammer a sea of rotting sunshine awakens me a thousand cameras catch every moment of my day (how sweet) time races while nitemares are visiting me a lot, what we are told like we've achieved a peaceful resolve I see women with barbed wire as necklaces we are being fed lethal heroin & rice I cannot stand by not involved Officer Down is selling Death out of his police caraddicts which are the ones that lived don't want to stir the pot, like mini-bodybags with your next box of Captain Crunch so witty so charmingly platonic I know/have jammed with some of the best musicians who never fucking made it you can put the successful ones on the edge of a dime life is sort of like a dog following the scent of piss, we all do that one way or another to say otherwise would be a big huge fat lie. I want to contribute but there seems little cause for concern with no concern for the cause don't worry some terrorist or welfare worker will blow up your life skyhigh as satan morphes into beautiful form & gives me a kiss, Like the singing nun slinging beers at some dive cuz those religious plans sort of fizzled out at least you're not in the White House which has been compared to an adult daycare centre so many failures even more opportunities & handshakes are not deals well done, As time speeds up collateral damage like friends lovFrs & the rest begin to watch that timepiece on your wrist they say that in a human life your heart will beat one billion times. The hands that mock me work for time & destruction is losing your self-control are we repeating another atrocity so many things can break you and make it look kke you've become undone ... when diagnosed with depression the face on your watch becomes Big Brother you want to tear the hands off and shove them down its throat I recently heard alcohol doesn't drown your troubles it just teaches them how to swim what a funny joke those never-ending circles of time just pass yet the future must carry on life makes you want to dance through a sprinkler of gasoline the times they change r want normalcy you truly have no idea what my once useful self could have been like the money wasted it appears then disappears it is the evil ones who by selfish magic move time to confuse at least 'til it's gone, like Waiter Cronkite with today's Military&Obituary News like a second hand store selling second,minute,

hour hands while the proud come home in boxes .. a pretty girl or several might tear down the handkerchiefs&veils how do we lose this losing way this repetition has completely lost its way and so on, The people who come after us will be absolutely convinced every single one of us lost more than just our minds we have (at least from what r have had the misfortune in my allotment of time to hear & see) Jesus if you're there we can use a helping hand, like escaped sex offenders being hired by school boards to teach children all about the birds&bees, time lets people down for a living the earlier you learn this entity called time will maybe help you out yet then again I am the one who lost his job at CanFysCo for being late (nothing about time seems to go as planned).

By ROBERT

McGILLIVRA Y

"I should have stuck to your lie, when death has a sentence after itJ guess it is time to say goodbye." -Saint Minus

'Soul Cut Short, uneven strands of hair encircled my drawn face.

Her punishment, her satisfaction.

During moments of self-loathing I viciously attack my hair, cutting off any reminder of my femininity.

My focus is on destroying any sign of attractiveness, to punish myself by creating that which is pitiful to the eye.

I cut my hair exactly as my mother did years ago.

A fterwards, the self hate and self anger are replaced with shame and remorse. r avoid the mirror like the plague.

I'm feeling better today.

Perhaps I'll lay these scissors down to rest. Š Jacqueline Angharad Giles

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We acknowledge that Carnegie Community Centre, and this Newsletter, are occurring on Coast Salish Territory.

cRl"n~.w5@vcn.b"-c.

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful THIS NEWSLETTER IS A PUBLICATION OF THE CARNEGIE COMMUNITY CENTRE ASSOCIATION Articles represent the views of individual contributors and not of the Association.

committed citizens it is the only thing

lSLAP (Law Students

WANTED Artwork for the Carnegie Newsletter • • • • • • • •

Small illustrations to accompany articles and poetry Cover art - Max size: 17cm wide X 15cm high Subject matter pertaining to issues relevant to the Downtown Eastside, but all work considered.

Black & White printing only.

Size restrictions apply (i.e. if your piece is too large, it will be reduced and/or cropped to fit).

All artists will receive credit for their work.

Originals will be returned to the artist after being copied for publication.

Remuneration: Carnegie Volunteer Tickets

Please make submissions to Paul Taylor, Editor.

The editor can edit for clarity, format & brevity, but not at the expense of the writer's message.

Website carnegienewsletter.org email: carnnews@vcn.bc.ca carnnews@shaw.ca

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