Continuing with the remainder of my numeric outline of your staff’s June House Meeting minutes:
4. One problem with framing the issue of yard work as an option I could “decide to move forward with that interest” if I wanted is your current team of dual banjos again avoids finding a healthier solution for the much more serious problem of Delores’s trauma-induced criminally violent rage:
Based on what you have reviewed so far, which way does April need to spin her passive aggressive volvelle into healthy communications, and at which station should she start before she might be ready to know how to reach successful resolution of any conflict?
Much as I had anticipated spending every minute that I am not at my computer out in the yard once the weather warmed, from the moment Hilary offered to help me retrieve my computer and my therapeutic service animal, walked me through your property, and I looked out my unit window and saw the wooden picnic bench in a wooded park-like setting, as long as you keep a rampaging criminal maintaining your yard while threatening me with bodily harm, I will never decide to move forward with my interest in gardening at Restful Peace Cottage.
For much the same reason that Angie decided not to move forward with parking her car in the garage. Twang. Likely the same reason that Selam restricted herself to half a kitchen cupboard space to Delores’s two cupboards instead of moving forward with adequate space for cooking and living under the same roof. Twang-twang. Or the same reason, I hear through multiple sources, that Emily,* one of your clients whose tenancy overlapped with Delores’s, decided not to move forward with your social working team and fled the abuses here long before I arrived, leaving behind even her identity, her phone, and remaining possessions. Twang-TWANG-twang.
In her first two years out of a Texas Master’s in Social Work (MSW) program, Hilary has lost at least two of your tenants, a third loudly boasts of affiliations with ISIS, and a fourth is reporting your criminal abuses to Washington’s Governor, seeking better solutions to the state’s mass shooting problem, because your “inaction in the face of this violence is unacceptable.” That’s her success rate in working with traumatized clients-?
How well is she working with folks living in their cars while getting paid not enough to pay rent on poverty hutches while scrubbing toilets in Seattle’s skyscrapers?
At June’s meeting, Delores both sneered/complained at me that I don’t work hard enough since I don’t help her martyred self with the yard work, and simultaneously raged, “She better not fucking touch my garden,” blatantly threatening future violence in front of your current case and program managers, protecting the garden as her space, not mine, not the space shared by all the other clients in your household. Yet still your staff rewarded her rampaging behavior. She further defended her foul-mouthed raging with still more raging, “IT’S MY THERAPY!” While I whole-heartedly agree that gardening can be very therapeutic activity, neither April nor Charlotte seemed to notice the foul-mouthed, contradictory illogic of these statements while April tried to coerce me into still more household labor despite your team producing fewer resources than we originally agreed back in November.
I suggested if you want tenants performing yard work in addition to household chores, that you include that labor in your lease agreement. They refused. Perhaps your pro bono counsel recommended omitting yard work from your written contracts because they are more familiar with Washington law than April and Charlotte?
I recommended cycling the yard work with the household chores, so everyone can take a turn. For your clients who do not enjoy gardening, that option was understandably unappealing. But if the yard work is optional, then why is your team favoring Delores’s contributions to the household over mine, believing her perspective over the perspectives of all the women she has abused in your household, despite a preponderance of evidence and witnesses to the contrary, and coercing additional work by threatening me with eviction if I do not comply with Delores’s contradictory, rampaging demands?
I explained for me it doesn’t matter what work you want done, as long as it is not illegal or hazardous to my health, and you may review my online portfolio for the breadth of my skills, this blog for the depth of my knowledge from which you might select in exchange for your resources, but for me the issue is time, and suggested, much as I suggested for the senior electrical engineer at Micron and his wife, who also trafficked my household labor, and also enjoyed the privilege of threatening me with eviction anytime I did not instantly comply with their contradictory commands, that you punch list your goals for your yard, and offered to cycle into yard work instead of housework, depending on your priorities any given week or season. Your staff again refused to describe, specifically, what yard work they wanted done, or agree to their arbitrarily redefined contract terms, despite April going so far as to paradoxically declare, in a sing-songy, slow, stupid voice as if she seriously underestimates my intellect, “We don’t care about the time. We just want the work done.”
So sayeth every slave-master or labor trafficker – or whatever term replaces the same abuse of power in the 22nd century – who ever strutted about the planet.
April may not be psychologically healthy enough to value her own life to value time as I do, but again, her underlying issues are more appropriately worked out with her psychologist rather than her visibly poor time management skills causing your clients further harm.
A second problem with framing yard work as an “option” with which I could “decide” to move forward is your staff’s coercive and threatening strategies for presenting me with that “option,” a gross misdemeanor according to RCW 9A.36.070, in reckless disregard of my safety, or trafficking in the first degree, a Class A felony according to RCW 9A.40.100, and because yard work maintains your property values, thus you benefit financially from that coercive “option,” trafficking in the second degree, another Class A felony according to the same Title, Chapter, and Section in Washington’s Revised Code.
A third problem with framing yard work as an option while financially benefitting from Delores’s audibly and visibly evident post-traumatic stress is more violations of RCW 9A.40.100. As I already communicated to both you and Charlotte in my email dated 18 July 2016, your social services nonprofit corporation financially benefitting from a woman who suffers multigenerational trauma, whose genealogy includes slavery, rewarding her yard work efforts while overlooking her criminally abusive behavior and visibly providing her with incompetent or zero psychotherapeutic care, is the most egregious form of racism that I have observed since my two hands helped carve the memorial totem that now stands in the shadow of the Space Needle, as you may corroborate with Rick Williams, whose brother was shot in the back and killed, by a young, white, male officer formerly employed by Seattle Police Department (SPD), for the “crimes” of being not-white, impoverished, hard of hearing, wearing earbuds, and carrying a chunk of wood and small carving knife well within the legal limit while crossing an urban intersection, and whose personal art collection expanded with two of my original charcoal drawings, which he took to his lawyer for framing.
“Why your lawyer?” I inquired, remembering framing my prosecutor ex-husband’s law certificates for him.
“Because her brother works for the Burke Museum.”
Again, I am very choosy about who benefits from my volunteer labor. Not looking for trafficking opportunities from your staff.
In between then and now, my observations and personal experiences of endemic national racism have been considerable. If you assume that Idaho’s predominantly white mental juridical health system employees harbor no discrimination toward impoverished transgender African Americans, Native Americans, or gay African American men, to mention just three examples from my recent experiences, your assumptions would be based on irrational thought.
For another example similar to one I previously reported to inappropriate responses from your white case and program management staff, on or about 18 March 2016, as the weather warmed I sought sunlight and the out-of-doors without having to descend through the predictable gauntlet of Delores’s rage the interior stairs between upper and lower levels of Restful Peace Cottage, where, in addition to threatening all of her housemates with posting our likenesses to Snapchat, she has raged at me for my temerity in seeking the vacuum cleaner disappeared for several days from its usual storage place in the upstairs coat closet. She described me as a “stalker” for attempting to complete the household chore requirements of our lease agreement. Despite my mindfulness of my housemate’s ever-widening zone of personal space, still Delores disrupted my morning meditative tea and writing practice on the deck that extends from the dining area with more of her raging from outside below.
Two of your maintenance staff had come out to very generously replace the kitchen faucet where the dual stream/sprayer’s worn gasket had left us without the spray function, and from my perspective, they had gotten roped into listening to a lengthy tirade of her martyred complaints about gardening. Prior to my move in, a spate of high winds had torn down more branches from the trees that had removed a chunk of your fence, which remains in a state of disrepair as of this writing. How much work she does in the yard, but she can’t do that work with dull tools. Her poor back. Bending over to chop dandelions when she wearies of pulling them, and so on and so forth, wrapping up her rage with the accusation, “She just sits up there on that balcony, like she’s overseeing the work of all the slaves who do the yard work!”
A theme she returns to again and again, indicative of an unhealed trauma monologue, while paradoxically ordering your maintenance crew and your other tenants about as if she is the lady of the manor, revealing deep internal conflicts, both patterning herself after her multigenerational abusers and raging accusations of abuse. After I surrendered the outdoors to her rage and returned inside to continue writing at your living room coffee table, your maintenance crew again rang the doorbell from the front entrance. Before I could complete a sentence and cap my pen to respond, Delores charged upstairs, raging at me as if she was dissatisfied with the caliber of her household help, while at the same time accusing me of elitism.
“Oh, just sit there,” she snarled, livid, on her way to the door for your maintenance crew, “Take your time! Queen!”
From my position as a multiracial trafficking survivor, I can readily empathize with Delores’s ancestral enslavement heritage, but you are not paying me a professional wage to help her unravel her multigenerational trauma. If you are unable to recruit and hire better educated employees due to your organization’s dysfunctional reputation within the social work community local to Seattle, your trauma-uneducated case, program, and clinical management staff may find helpful continuing education readily available in the PNW from Dr. Joy Degruy, faculty at Portland State University, who has developed curricula for what she describes as Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome.
While April arrived at May’s mandatory house meeting at least emotionally intelligent enough to recognize the palpable tension generated from long-running harassment, malicious harassment, and threats of bodily harm, unresolved by your staff’s reluctance to maintain the boundaries set by your own lease agreement and municipal and state laws, after that meeting dwindled into her executive smoke session with Delores, April came prepared to June’s meeting only to openly blame me for the group’s dynamic, dutifully replicating Delores’s martyr narrative, defining “passive aggressive communications” as any perspective that disagrees with Delores.
I had hoped, after Delores encountered me in the kitchen after their executive smoke session, and raged, “APRIL’S NOT AS DUMB AS YOU GUYS THINK SHE IS,” that meant they might not have been getting as chummy as their body language appeared from inside the house glancing out, and that perhaps April would have an opportunity to rethink enforcing Jenn’s instructions to remove the upstairs landline affecting the safety of all of your upstairs tenants. Instead, April is busily abusing her program management position of power over me, readily identifying with the biggest martyr in the Restful Peace Cottage household.
Despite her paycheck, April is still not in a position to reinvent the English language. Or psychoanalytic theory. Or human psychology. Or law.
Starting at the deny station on her passive aggressive volvelle, April thrice denied that May’s meeting devolved into her tit-for-tat grade school argument with Delores before they descended the stairs and outside to the backyard, where they bonded, shouting and smoking together:
“We did not.”
As I began to refresh their conjoined memory of the dissolution of the previous meeting, describing Delores’s foul-mouthed raging that even your program manager had in May recognized as combative, not conducive to conflict resolution, April broke in to insist, “I didn’t say battering.”
And still a third time, April reiterated her hostile position at denial, utterly shut to hearing my perspective, primly, “That’s not a word I would use.”
Returning to my notes from May’s house meeting, I was wrong. April is so right.
She did not say “battering.”
April described Delores’s behavior at the May meeting as “battling.”
First she had very astutely observed Delores’s foul-mouthed rampaging as, “You’re giving your power away.”
“I AM NOT.”
“You’re coming across as battling everyone.”
“This frustration is after months and months of people messing with me,” Delores whined, blaming her feelings of anger off the charts to any of these superficial household conflicts on her housemates, identifying as the victim in the household disputes, and the April/”At” team permitted this passive aggressive behavior, rather than recommending her for psychotherapeutic care or teaching her healthier coping strategies for her anger no doubt generated by her earlier severely traumatic experiences.
“You’re battling me,” April insisted.
And that’s where their dialogue further devolved into am not/are so prior to their executive smoke session in the backyard, where April docilely listened to still more of Delores’s rampaging martyr narrative, and began taking dictation from a woman so traumatized by her previous life experiences that she is paranoid to the point of being delusional, raving about the FBI watching the house, “booby-trapping” her dirty laundry as she loads it into the washer, and describing your boilerplate wifi agreement as a government conspiracy.
On the other hand, if Delores genuinely does have connections to ISIS, then maybe the FBI is keeping an eye on her in the interest of national security? Or maybe they should be. Maybe those ravings are not her paranoia? Maybe her life experiences have just been on the other side of the law from most of my life experiences?
Since “battering” is not a word in April’s vocabulary, yet battering is very often the experience of victims of domestic violence, and familial abuse is a leading cause of homelessness for women, April openly confessed in June’s meeting that she is not qualified to provide program management for women transitioning out of homelessness, as if that fact were not already abundantly clear to me, a lacking not just in April’s education, but education missing from all of your staff who have paraded in and out of the Restful Peace Cottage since at least November 2015. In the first provision of our lease, and reiterated in your Case Management Plan Addendum, Compass Housing Alliance claims to receive state funds:
“The Department of Housing and Urban Development, State of Washington, King County and City of Seattle provides [sic] funds that assist the Landlord with the operation of this program.”
That means you are in violation of RCW 70.123.070, where the legislature quite clearly spells out all of your employees must obtain “sufficient training in connection with domestic violence” and even more clearly: “refrain from engaging in activities that compromise the safety of victims” [emph. mine].
If you have checked some check boxes indicating that April or Charlotte or your subsequent Tom, Dick, or Harriet case or program managers have sufficient training in connection with domestic violence, that training is, in itself, insufficient, and that may well be true, from what I have observed back in 2012 with the Domestic Violence Victim Support Services Supervisor at SPD, later cycling through Idaho’s mental juridical health system, then back to Seattle’s poverty industrial complex, true of my experiences with many of the front line counter workers at DSHS, Department of Licensing (DOL), YWCA, the Salvation Army, Mary’s Place, Jubilee Center – despite the tireless efforts of their volunteers sifting through donated clothing, paid staff at that shelter for “homeless” women nevertheless wanted me to cough up a move-in fee and to be already employed, while mystically offering no further computer hours or hardware and software improved over the region’s WorkSource centers, and would have further required me to attend beading workshops taught by amateurs, for “Personal Enrichment,” their social workers babbled unintelligibly to my BFA- and MFA-educated expertise, as if adding still one more medium to my considerable skill set is going to net me a professional wage job in a visually illiterate culture – and even the young telephone operators at the national call center for human trafficking are unprepared for the post-Great Recession trafficking experiences of America’s educated poor.
For space considerations, I will save my psychoanalytic design analysis of the hypocritical Christian soldiers marching off to the Salvation Army’s war on Seattle’s impoverished for a very special post of their very own. Suffice with this sneak preview of the graphic design efforts from the Director of their Pike Street women’s shelter, who indulged her frustrations by raging at her clients for one hour per week subtracted from our job-seeking activities and educational goals, compounded with another hour per week meeting with a case manager as every bit as passive aggressive as Charlotte, their team as dissatisfied as Delores and your staff with the City of Seattle’s solutions for communicating the differences between recycling, compost, and landfill:
According to Jubilee’s program rules, I am too poor to be homeless.
According to Kendra at the national anti-trafficking call center – who demanded my last name but refused to provide hers, after blaming your staff’s criminal behavior on my “feelings” – only small children or non-English speakers can be trafficked in the United States, and trafficking must include sex. In ignorance or thinly repressed fantasy or blatant defiance of federal and Washington laws.
Ditto Maria Pintar, a YWCA-paid employee conducting business out of a DSHS office, whose high-speed oral delivery of information provided on badly designed print collateral only further proves my theory of the correlation between visual illiteracy and abuse.
In reviewing RCW 10.31.100, it is all the more puzzling to me why the officers called out to the house on 11 January 2016 chose not to arrest Delores, as she was quite clearly in the midst of perpetrating misdemeanor and felony offenses, as two eyewitnesses concurred, but maybe because they recognized her earlier history as victim, and may not be trained to understand that victim oftentimes revolves into abuser without the tremendous self-awareness work of trauma recovery? Another clue may be found in that section of Washington’s Revised Code that agrees with Lin Payton’s description and my experiences of the state’s workforce, where the legislature in 2010 acknowledged its intention may differ considerably from current practice, forecasting the desperate need by 2016 to improve still further:
“The legislature intends to improve the lives of persons who suffer from the adverse effects of domestic violence and to require reasonable, coordinated measures to prevent domestic violence from occurring. The legislature intends to give law enforcement and the courts better tools to identify violent perpetrators of domestic violence and hold them accountable. The legislature intends to: Increase the safety afforded to individuals who seek protection of public and private agencies involved in domestic violence prevention; improve the ability of agencies to address the needs of victims and their children and the delivery of services; upgrade the quality of treatment programs; and enhance the ability of the justice system to respond quickly and fairly to domestic violence. In order to improve the lives of persons who have, or may suffer, the effects of domestic violence the legislature intends to achieve more uniformity in the decision-making processes at public and private agencies that address domestic violence by reducing inconsistencies and duplications allowing domestic violence victims to achieve safety and stability in their lives” [emph. mine].
Or perhaps the senior responding African American male officer could more readily identify with Delores’s violent behavior as not outside the norm of his experiences, as described by RCW 9A.36.080, which requires that threats of bodily harm must be perceived by a “reasonable person” as threats of bodily harm, and further, with much cultural sensitivity, defines a reasonable person as “a member of the victim’s race, color, religion, ancestry, national origin, gender, or sexual orientation, or who has the same mental, physical, or sensory handicap as the victim,” an especially challenging conundrum in this situation, where my own relatives readily identify with the martyr narratives of my subsequent traffickers, cheerleading if not outright assisting one schizo-affective woman’s criminal behavior, and bringing up the question, are mentally handicapped – according to the lawmakers; I would say severely traumatized – individuals capable of distinguishing “reasonable” from irrational-? Or is that definition circular? Since you will be hard-pressed to find a “reasonable person” who shares my ancestry, may I instead ask for review from trauma-educated psychologists and prosecutors of a preponderance of evidence of my experiences of malicious harassment, threats, and trafficking at Compass Housing Alliance?
I was at least racially sensitive enough to ask, “What does ‘pop’ mean to you?”
To which the officer replied, “Punch.”
That’s what Delores’s threats to “pop” meant to both African American Linda and me too.
And who in the state is better qualified to help the legislature achieve more uniformity in the decision-making processes ostensibly improving the lives of persons who suffer from the adverse effects of domestic violence than a survivor of the globally renowned Bundy clan, who just happens to have completed her graduate work in critical theories of identity, trauma, and the taboo at the start of the Great Recession, and more recently reduced that complex research to a four-point conflict resolution model based on the structure of trauma, that anyone who understands simple geometric shapes should be able to follow, rather than perpetuating the toxic myth of the DOJ-funded, United Way-marketed model of woman-as-victim, man-as-abuser still in play at SPD as recently as 2012?
As the situation here in your women-only transitional group housing staffed with predominantly women evidences, women can be the perpetrators of domestic violence just as readily as men, which is why it is so important for you to recruit and hire personnel capable of maintaining the boundaries set by your lease terms and Washington law, coming to agreement on behavior that is civil, rather than blaming the victims of criminal behavior, regardless of gender, sexuality, race, genealogy, ethnicity, or spirituality.
5. Pace the legal opinions of April and Charlotte, obtaining visual and audio evidence of criminal behavior appear to be, after some considerable searching on my part – once again, doing the jobs of your case and program managers without benefit of their combined paychecks to protect myself from your criminally abusive client and staff – two separate issues in Washington law.
Compass Housing Alliance neglected to directly address those two issues – compounded by the accessibility and speed of 21st century technology – in your lease, addenda, or policies I reviewed and signed on 19 November 2015. In my first formal, written grievance emailed to Hilary on 28 December 2015, however, anticipating from her verbal responses during our earlier meetings your staff’s difficulties of mediating between two parties, when already Delores had stomped firmly on the avoid station of her passive aggressive volvelle responding to our then-Case Manager’s two prior attempts to schedule mediation sessions, and having already overheard by then Delores raging at Hilary when she stopped by the house, already I recommended a 21st century adaptation of King Solomon’s repair, splitting the baby:
“In contrast, I am so confident in my level of self-awareness and -restraint that I welcome your addition of audio-visual devices to the common areas of the household… and it comes down to a she said/she said, and you have no way of fairly judging between the two without more directly observing our behavior.”
Delores’s rage continued to accelerate through January, inclusive of all of her housemates, though more acutely targeted toward me due to my ancestry and that month’s news reports of the Oregon militia, prompting Linda’s 911 call.
By 19 March 2016, Delores’s physical aggression toward me accelerated from body blocking doorways or deliberately shoving into my body, sometimes accompanied by her snarled, “Fuck you,” in response to my courteous, “Excuse me,” to gesticulating at me with a chef’s knife in the shared, narrow galley kitchen in the midst of one of her rampages that she launched into my dinner preparations.
Late in the evening, after I patiently waited for what sounded like the end of her own dinner preparations, I entered an empty kitchen and began to prep mine. Unfortunately for me, Delores had not finished with her food. Her rage seemed to build from unrelated conflicts earlier in the day, gauging by a snide note she had left on the whiteboard, accusing Linda of not returning the curbside bins to their proper location, another midterm lease change Delores had dictated at the rest of us. Abruptly ripping open the pocket door from the dining area, she entered the kitchen after me. As per her usual maliciously harassing behavior, she grumbled about my existence on the planet, complained about having already wiped down the portion of the counter that I had chosen for dinner prep, and aggressively flung compost juice toward my food.
From my perspective, contrary to Delores’s high self-judgment about how she performs her household chores under our lease obligations, I had started my food prep by wiping down a countertop littered with crumbs, and scrubbing my hands at the sink, my usual kitchen hygiene. Regardless, I always clean up after myself too, so there was no reason for my food prep to adversely affect a rational human being.
Without saying anything in response to her first bout of rage of the evening, I shifted my preparations farther down the counter. She stomped out of the kitchen and on downstairs still grumbling. When she returned a few minutes later, Delores carried a platter of cut fruit, and began raging at me for taking up space at the far end of the counter, where I had moved to escape her spray radius. Her second – or extended first – bout of rage of the evening accelerated as she began gesticulating at me with a chef’s knife in her clenched fist, raging her paranoid accusations that I had moved too close to her juicer at the end of the counter.
“Delores, can you please put down the knife?” I asked calmly, my gaze moving from her eyes to the flashing blade and back again.
She immediately began jeering, gesturing with the knife with more intention, while simultaneously denying that intention, “OH, THAT’S RIGHT. CALL THE COPS ON ME AGAIN. LIKE YOU DID BEFORE ‘CUZ YOU’RE AFRAID. YOU CALLING THE COPS IS GONNA GET YOU IN TROUBLE AGAIN.”
A clear threat to cause bodily injury as defined by RCW 9A.04.110, as well as another boast of how readily she manipulates your susceptible staff.
“Maybe you can learn to stop threatening people?” I asked, invoking your Non-Discrimination Anti-Harassment Policy.
From rampaging martyr, Delores spun rapidly to deny on her passive aggressive volvelle: “I’M NOT THREATENING ANYONE.”
After denial, she spun onward to avoid, wildly seeking to blame me for her own aggressive behavior, with little slips of logic between each assumption: Angie saw her downstairs with the knife. Angie knew Delores was only cutting her fruit, and would back her up. Even more fancifully, she claimed Angie was sitting just outside the kitchen door and overhearing our entire exchange. Both assertions might come as a surprise to Angie, but reveal Delores’s experience with manipulation, a tactic common to both abusers and psychopaths.
I continued to hold her gaze until she looked away first and finally lowered her knife.
Delores’s rampage accompanying my dinner preparations that evening nevertheless wore onward, spanning her predictable gamut of ordering me to perform chores, “I’M NOT PUTTING YOUR DISHES IN THE DISHWASHER,” harassment even as I was in the midst of cleaning up after myself, “YOU HAFTA CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF”; to malicious harassment that revealed much about Delores’s relationship with her own mother who perhaps abandoned the child to an abusive father, “YOUR MOTHER MUST NOT HAVE LOVED YOU VERY MUCH”; and by the time I retired to the relative safety of my room for my first plate of truly divine romaine-spinach salad with apple, avocado, and cucumbers dressed with a walnut vinaigrette, and returned for seconds, she had revolved back to martyred jeering, her rage a transparent mask for her own fear from my psychoanalytically educated perspective, “AFRAID OF A KNIFE.”
“Who’s afraid?” I asked calmly, quietly, again meeting her eyes directly.
Again, though I had made no move and spoken no language that could possibly be construed as a threat by a reasonable person, she flinched away first.
With Delores’s knife attack timed shortly after suspected murderer John Lee’s Alford plea filing for the three homicides he allegedly committed in Moscow in January 2015, but prior to his 24 May 2016 sentencing hearing, while I was in the midst of addressing the issues that have led to this period of homelessness, per the Case Management Plan Addendum to our agreement, writing my still-in-progress psychoanalytic design analysis to the small town Chief of Police who asked for assistance from the public for motive, reporting no known knowledge of the mass shooter receiving Idaho’s version of “treatment” for severe trauma, rigid division of masculine/feminine roles, STEM-isolated education, and lack of healthy communications/conflict negotiations skills anywhere in the state’s K-18 curricula – because your staff prioritize felonies, misdemeanors, and violations of landlord tenant law higher than – though hopefully not leading to – mass shootings – and hoping to place a boundary warding off her further threatening behaviors, I added, referencing a threat that Delores commonly uses toward me, “The last guy to threaten to knock my glasses off my face is looking at thirty years to life for triple homicide—“
Typical of Delores or any other victim unrecovered from multigenerational early childhood sexual abuse, she raged over the top of me from the blame station of her passive aggressive volvelle, falsely accusing me of an imaginary crime, “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO DID HOMICIDE.”
“—your little knife doesn’t scare me one bit.”
An altercation that could have been easily mediated by audiovisual computing technology cheaply available on today’s market, reducing the excessive cost of your personnel budget.
Delores’s kitchen rage continued unabated the next morning, 20 March 2016. Aurally assaulted by more of her tirades, I returned to my room with tea and journal in hand, only to discover my door locked and closed with my key inside. As per your Tenant Grievance Procedure, which states, “Grievances may be written or oral,” I called your emergency voicemail number, explained that my housemate had the night before threatened me with a chef’s knife, and again in the morning my housemate had made more verbal threats to stab me, that I was locked out of my room, and even though your staff typically only respond to lockouts during weekday office hours, would they mind making an exception given the emergent threat of bodily harm?
An hour or two later, with no response from your staff, I left another emergency voicemail, still more briefly summarizing the situation, requesting assistance.
Another hour later, still no staff response, I called then-Program Manager Jenn Pargas’s mobile, and reached her voicemail. To her credit, she at least called back within an hour. Jenn stated she had received my messages. Plural.
Still, her inappropriate response to the emergent threat of bodily harm to me was to chide me, much as April later accused me of acting out of vengeance, sourly, “First of all, locking yourself out of your room is not an emergency.”
Jenn thankfully chose not to continue her bullet-point list of my failures with a second-of-all during our brief phone conversation. Given her January threat to evict me if Delores’s behavior did not change, and with my physical safety dependent on her largesse, I did not then challenge her competence, though I wondered privately at that time what constitutes an “emergency” in your program management playbook, if brandishing a chef’s knife does not?
In speaking with Jenn, I also did not accuse Delores of locking me out of my room, because I had not directly observed that action. As a healthy communicator, typically I ask more questions to better understand any given situation or individual narrative, rather than falsely accuse on too little information.
Because Delores responds with rage to my very existence within her radius, that left me with no one to ask, thus I can only tell you the sequence of events as I experienced them: in the midst of more of Delores’s raging in the kitchen, she left the room before I did, and may have continued farther on down the hall to my room instead of making a right through the door to downstairs. Her similar behavior I had previously observed, as she will sometimes continue to the bathroom, snapping off its light/fan hallway switch left on to ventilate the room, while raging her complaints about the rest of us “wasting” electricity, or slamming open the bathroom window to bray her trauma monologue out into the neighborhood after I leave the house, in violation of your Good Neighbor Policy. While I remain open to the slim possibility I may have accidentally turned the lock on the inside of the knob on the door to my room on my way to the kitchen, back in March it was my custom to only intentionally lock my unit door when I planned to leave the house altogether, not when I was still in pajamas and slippers and fetching my morning tea, and if she reached her hand inside my unit to lock the door, then in addition to your Crime Free Lease Addendum, that week she violated Sections 9 and 10 of your lease agreement, as well as the redundant verbiage within your Case Management Plan Addendum.
Linda further corroborated Delores’s customary behavior, tit-for-tat with your client who occupied my unit prior to my tenancy, Christine, whom she describes as nearly as criminally violent as our current housemate, or “a white Delores,” both of them motivated by sheer meanness, spite, or vengeance. I wonder if both Delores and your case and program management staff might be confusing me with Christine, as reluctant as they are to get to know me as a human being instead of just a chunk of data for your grant proposals funding their paychecks-? Perhaps all white – or white-passing – people all look the same to severely traumatized Delores?
On 25 April 2016, Delores violated her usual list of lease agreement, policies, and addenda during the hours specifically forbidden by your Good Neighbor Policy:
3. Quiet Hours are 10:00PM-8:00AM Sunday through Thursday, and 11:00PM -8:00AM Friday and Saturday.
About 11:00 pm that Monday night, on my way to bed, I quietly slipped to the kitchen for a glass of warm salt water gargle per recommendations from my dentist. Unfortunately for me, Delores happened to be in the midst of charring a chunk of animal flesh in a frying pan on the stovetop, window shut, exhaust fan off, and greeted me with her customary narcissistic rage, “FUUUCK, I KNEW IT. I WAITED ALL DAY TO COME UP HERE. YOU HAD ALL DAY TO USE THE KITCHEN. STOP HARASSING ME.”
I continued about my business without responding to her verbal onslaught, holding my breath away from the stench emanating from the stove.
“YOU DID NOT NEED TO RETURN ONE CUP FROM YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW,” she bellowed, in textbook passive aggressive fashion, dictating control over the needs of others while blaming her own behavior on the victim of her abuse, “YOU’RE JUST DOING THAT TO HARASS ME.”
Collecting salt from the cupboard assigned to me and a glass from the shared house cupboard where you store your glassware required that I navigate the narrow galley past Delores’s position at the stove. She decided to lurch past me to her own food cupboard right at that moment, then abruptly spun around nearly into me, as had become typical of her physical assaults on my person. While I politely murmured, “Excuse me,” she raged at me more blame for her own behavior, “DON’T YOU TOUCH ME. DON’T YOU TOUCH ONE THREAD ON MY SWEATER.”
Given many threads on her sweater had already lurched into me, her command seemed utterly meaningless to me, though I could see where the situation would be challenging for responding officers to sort out who did what, when, where, and first if Delores accelerated her violence still further and I needed to physically defend myself from her assault.
From my peripheral vision, while I reached into my cupboard for salt, she adjusted her position, lounging against the counter opposite her meat spluttering on the stove, and smirked, “I wish you would. Then I will make all of your fantasy nightmares come true. ‘Cuz I will tear your fucking head off.”
I wordlessly passed through this narrow gauntlet between sizzling meat and her threats, accomplishing glass, salt, and continuing to the sink for water and the microwave for heat, while Delores maintained her raging monologue of threats and malicious harassment, again targeted specifically for my ancestry, or hereditary psoriasis, “I’M REPORTING YOU FOR HARASSING ME… CREPE-NECK! …WATTLE-HEAD! I HOPE YOU DON’T HAVE AIDS! ‘CUZ WITH THOSE DISGUSTING SPOTS ALL OVER YOUR BODY, YOU SURE LOOK LIKE IT! YOU LOOK LIKE A LEPER! STAY AWAY FROM ME!”
Sounds like my childhood enduring malicious harassment in the Bundy clan, with my genetic sisters calling me names like Oatmeal Head and Cracker Head when psoriasis inherited from both of our genetic parents plagued my scalp more than other areas of my body, was excellent preparation for remaining calm, cool, and collected in adulthood, however much it might enrage Delores to learn how much an energetic Black Lives Matter activist has in common with the rednecked Bundys.
As you can see from this image meta-dated the following day, under Robert Bowery’s clinical management, April and “At” announced their revolving door of your staff’s house visit via gossip from the housemate with a lengthy, well-documented history of threats and malicious harassment, in black, to which I added my request for audiovisual protection since Jenn and Hilary had failed to uphold your own contract terms and law, urgent priorities in pink, household maintenance requests in green:
To my safety concerns, Linda and Angie added theirs, with Angie’s additional prompt for your team’s months’ long failures to uphold your Case Management Plan Addendum adding further evidence of the hypocrisy of their 10-Day Notice to Comply or Vacate to me, retaliation prohibited by Washington landlord tenant law RCW 59.18.240:
When Delores observed our requests for audiovisual protection on the whiteboard, she raged at me, “YOU DID THAT SO THEY WOULD THINK IT’S ME.”
Curious if our whiteboard requests were still visible when or if your staff dropped by the house while I was out pursuing my educational and employment goals?
When I again broached the subject of audiovisual protection for the safety of your clients in the presence of your staff, at the June meeting April went beyond trotting out the excuse I anticipated, that you do not have a budget for 21st century technology helping you achieve your stated goals, to scolding us for calling the police when one of your clients is threatening the rest of us with bodily harm, her behavior again identical to the behavior of my dysfunctional graduate school departmental faculty, who then rewarded the perpetrator of violent behavior, their organizational decisions eventually leading to a federal investigation of institutionalized behavior so similar to April’s decision-making faculties.
Not to mention a mass-shooting, triple homicide still awaiting federal investigation into the complicity of Idaho’s Skittles Schools in perpetrating that behavior.
With at least four global-headline-grabbing psychopharmacological-drug-related shooting homicide events to their tiny, agricultural college town credit since 2007.
Delores chimed in with a new-to-me version of her martyr narrative, falsely accused me of taking pictures of her, whined to April that her housemates had not granted her permission to violate our privacy, destroy our property, or review our digital devices, and threatened me with a lawsuit for legally protecting myself from her criminal behavior under RCW 9.73.030, exceptions to laws forbidding the intercepting, recording, or divulging of private communications, even if we continue to pretend for your incompetent staff that threats of bodily harm rampaged throughout a shared communal living environment might be reasonably construed as “private” communications rather than flagrant violations of your lease, addenda, written policies, and law.
How about if we stop pretending?
Astonished, I waited patiently for April or Charlotte to do their jobs and better apprise Delores of state laws or enforce our contract.
Instead, doll-like, April repeated Delores’s interpretation of law, threatening not just my safety but the safety of all of your tenants, not just at Restful Peace Cottage, but all of the sites managed by Compass Housing Alliance, further abusing the power of her position as Program Manager, and confirming her dismal lack of qualifications for the job required by RCW 70.123.070:
“It is illegal to record anyone without their permission,” she giggled and shrugged that she had just learned at an earlier house meeting that very day that it was also illegal to take pictures for self-defense, stating, “That would not be okay with us.”
Not that I am granting permission to your staff to dictate at me the limits of my communications with law enforcement, but I inquired of April when she thought it was acceptable to call 911.
“This calling the cops needs to stop, because,” April rambled through a disorganized list, of which I was only able to note two examples, as Angie and Delores and Charlotte simultaneously chimed in to offer their legal opinions, while your Program Manager shared the limits of her knowledge of domestic violence law, “So when you’re in the middle of an argument, that would be a waste of police resources.”
Curious what opinion Chief Kathleen O’Toole might offer about best use of her department’s resources-?
From my perspective, Compass Housing Alliance abuses police resources by failing to perform their job descriptions as case, program, and clinical managers while nevertheless receiving grant-funded paychecks for those services.
Regardless, happily for her housemates, Linda did not violate even April’s new interpretation of Washington law when she called 911 in January, because no reasonable person would describe Delores’s raging trauma monologues as “fights” or mutual dialogue, despite her sulky accusation, “Calling the police and lying.”
But what about when Delores called out the police to report her “stolen” bicycle-? Or Delores’s confession to using Snapchat in a secret location? Or, more recently, while your property is torn apart for re-plumbing and construction repair, forcing upstairs residents to run Delores’s rampaging downstairs gauntlet to shower in a room with holes through the ceiling on either side of the door, openly boasting on the kitchen whiteboard of her potentially criminal behavior prohibited by RCW 9A.44.115 pertaining to voyeurism, RCW 4.24.795 the distribution of intimate images, and infringing upon the rights protected by RCW 63.60.050 as evidenced by her handwriting in this image meta-dated 02 September 2016:
Or earlier, on 04 July 2016, in the midst of the week or so that Linda occupied the upstairs common living area dealing with her hoarding issues, organizing, and repacking her possessions for her forthcoming departure from your program, and I witnessed Delores click her camera phone at the towers of boxes while Linda sat in the middle of them? While I did not see the resulting image, from the angle and proximity of Delores in relation to her subject matter, drawing upon my educated expertise in visual communications, Linda was likely the focal point.
Not technically illegal, not addressed in your lease or companion documents, but maybe a threat to the safety of survivors of domestic violence, depending on how a felon chooses to meta-tag and distribute her photography? Furthermore, does April’s one-sided listening meet the state legislature’s intent to achieve more uniformity in the decision-making processes at public and private agencies that address domestic violence by reducing inconsistencies and duplications allowing domestic violence victims to achieve safety and stability in their lives, or thwart it?
“If someone threatens you with a knife, or something, then I could see…” April meandered through June’s meeting without an agenda, describing the situation that occurred three months prior that her predecessor Jenn had not considered emergent enough to warrant a call to your emergency voicemail line, let alone accessing SPD resources via 911-?
Anticipating that April might next paradoxically chastise or threaten me with eviction for not calling 911 on the occasion when Delores had threatened me with a chef’s knife, I did not then ask further questions, pursuant to your Non-Discrimination Anti-Harassment Policy:
If you feel it’s safe, ask the person harassing you to stop the behavior [emph. mine].
I am not safe under your staff’s criminal mismanagement. My lack of safety is not a “feeling” of mine. That is a judgment I am sharing with you. I make that judgment based on your staff’s words and actions violating and supporting violations of Washington criminal law despite a preponderance of evidence and eyewitness grievances reporting those crimes. Really important distinction between passive aggressive and healthy communication, learning the difference between feelings and judgments, which is why I have explained that difference using stick figure drawings so even small children could understand generations of philosophy and psychoanalytic theory underpinning my judgments, and encourage your rewriting of your lease and companion documents to more rationally communicate judgments rather than passive aggressively dismiss our valid safety concerns as “feelings.”
Replicating her unprofessionalism from May’s meeting, April also neglected to adjourn June’s meeting, which dwindled to an opportunity to continue pursuing my educational and employment goals when Delores again left the table raging. When in May Delores had stormed off after her passive aggressive nopology for April’s “feelings,” and she and April continued bickering over the top of each other, in June, April and Charlotte, confusing healthy boundaries on abusive behavior with passive aggression, again abused their positions of power by permitting Delores to again blame me for her feelings and her criminally abusive behavior, as she got up and left the table, raging, “If she [glaring at me] stops doing passive aggressive stuff, then I’ll stop getting angry…”
Recalling SPD Officers Bennett and Davenport explaining to me that taking pictures of someone is not illegal when they responded to my call about the drunken man verbally harassing me while adding images of me to his camera phone during one of my early morning workouts at South Lake Union last summer, at my subsequent first and last case meeting with Charlotte, I followed up on the safety issue, asking for the legal cite for April’s new rule not addressed under the terms of our lease agreement.
Charlotte glared and passive aggressively avoided answering my direct question by quickly changing the subject.
In that meeting, free from Delores rampaging over the top of me and accusing me of lying, I also clearly stated that I had not taken any images of Delores, though I acknowledged I am using my smartphone to document my experiences of daily living. Not a crime to document my personal life experience. Nor does documenting the criminal abuses I experience on your property violate any of our lease terms.
Another pouty-faced glare and more avoidance from your passive aggressive case manager in response to my question hoping to prompt your staff to change their behavior encouraging criminal behavior, “If Delores doesn’t like me recording her rampaging threats of bodily harm, then she can do what?”
For the benefit of the safety of your entire household, as you can see from this image meta-dated on my birthday this summer, I added my request to the meeting minutes Charlotte had taped to the kitchen whiteboard:
Continuing her perpetual abuse of the fourth clause of your Good Neighbor Policy with no motivation to read your contract as anything other than a list of boundaries for her to violate without compunction, on 30 August 2016, Delores hosted late-night company. A portion of her contribution to their conversation that I could not help but overhear, try as I might on my way to bed that night, behind closed doors and a blocked vent:
“…I think he’s an ISIS sympathizer, honestly. I was so afraid that someone would text Homeland Security and call the cops on us…”
If Delores wants to have private conversations waxing nostalgic on her criminal behaviors, maybe she could schedule them during office hours? Better still, away from the house? Or keep her tone lowered to what a reasonable person considers conversational?
No, I do not have a recording to prove what I overheard after a long day pursuing my educational and employment goals. Just my ear-witness testimony.
Noting that Delores expressed greater fear of American police brutality than ISIS, with some highly publicized, well-documented, reasonable rationale for that fear, may I get some trauma-recovered, trauma-educated, identity-educated law enforcement backup now, please?
I don’t care if they’re white, black, some variegated brown, male, female, cis-, trans-, gay, lesbian, pansexual, hung like horses, or you need a microscope to find their penises, Muslim, Jewish, Hindi, or some fundamentalist Christian sect, Republican, Democrat, Pink, or Green Party, born in Antarctica, or hail from the warm cradle of civilization. As long as they are psychologically healthy enough to listen to multiple perspectives, technologically savvy enough to know a URL from a hole in the ground, emotionally intelligent enough to keep their trigger-happy fingers off their triggers without a criminal first threatening to fire in their direction, and follow secular law in their law enforcement activities.
With no offense intended to him personally, but in my forty-plus years of experience, Special Agent in Charge of the Seattle Division, Frank Montoya, Jr., with his degree from Brigham Young University, may have a spiritual or gendered conflict of interest with fairly hearing my perspective without first unpacking his childhood baggage of judgments. Maybe not. Maybe he’s the one or two or 110,000 Mormons, according to the Salt Lake Tribune, who might like to see their chosen religion find better solutions for incest, trafficking, rape, and homicide than quietly sweeping them under the rug or blaming victims of criminal abuse of patriarchal authority. Maybe better to avoid even the appearance of conflict in a neglected investigation of Idaho’s Skittles Schools that I first requested via a call to the Boise office at 8:45 on the morning of 27 May 2014, the date that really was the 14th anniversary of my real wedding to my real prosecutor ex-husband, son of alleged ex-FBI parents, yes, really, while locked up without arrest or access to competent counsel for a month of my life by Idaho’s mental juridical health authorities who described all of these relationships as “delusions” with no attempt to fact-check reality beyond my abusive family’s testimony, and again on 28 November 2014, after I posted my statement online for whichever body of law enforcement would like to commence enforcing the law-? Just think, maybe the brother of former Idaho state legislator Tom Trail might still be alive if trafficking survivors were given a little higher priority on the punch list of men running around waving guns in public, stomping their feet, insisting on the “rightness” of their perspective or quietly isolating their womenfolk who speak out against the toxic parenting in private that leads to those very public abuses:
Which is just as well that he retired in the midst of this writing, by Jungian coincidence, on the wedding anniversary of my genetic parents – that U.S. Navy and IRS veteran father and obedient mother – coincidentally the third anniversary of the Washington Navy Yard mass shooting. In addition to his years of service with the Marine Corps, I wonder if the new guy has taken any college courses in identity theory? How do you suppose he feels about consanguinity data analysis or DNA evidence or the synchronicity principle?
The Victim Witness program isn’t working nearly as well as it could be if the DOJ had hired me for its available support staff position in Arizona when I applied for it last year after I missed the deadline for a similar position in Ohio, limited as I was by Paul Allen’s technology. Now that that agency has finally indicted Cliven for his offenses coincidentally simultaneous to my 2014 incarceration in Idaho for the grievous “crimes” of describing our relationship – second cousin, once removed – and reporting a poorly investigated and perhaps too rapidly prosecuted cold case homicide, maybe one of those agencies could be persuaded to hairball up a budget that includes a genuinely safe house – or bare bones structure I can convert into well-designed live/work space – and transportation for arguably the global expert in the psychology of serial killers while I work on bringing them up to 21st century speed on the intersections between psychoanalytic and identity theories and the inextricable interconnections between gender and sexuality and human psychology? Happily resolving the housing, bus pass, and employment concerns of your case and program managers, while simultaneously addressing the issues that led to this period of homelessness, or multitasking on nothing more than a food stamp budget.
In researching for my analysis of Moscow’s 2015 mass shooter, I’ve reviewed the Behavioral Health Unit alum’s posthumous psychoanalysis of the 2007 mass shooter at Virginia Tech, the event that prompted my drawing studio pedagogy mediating conflict and emphasizing collaborative working skills introduced to a group of Seattle’s designers and engineers in 2010, and it sounds to me like issues of masculinity and that revulsion against finding commonality with the horrifying other might still be limiting the FBI’s understanding of human psychology more than 18 years after the State of Florida executed my adopted eighth cousin, twice removed Ted.
Briefly, in a 260-page Portable Document Format (PDF) report converted from Microsoft PowerPoint by Windows Distiller 6.0 by someone using the machine registered by author “tcopping,” boasting an index missing interactive links to corresponding sections, but replete with page numbering that does not match Adobe Acrobat’s automatic pagination, covered in a pixelated image of white, drop-shadowed, small-capped, serifed typography so tightly leaded that the baseline of the first line perches directly atop the ascenders of the second line, layered above possibly generic stock or more likely amateur photography, stretched beyond the scale of its original dimensions to fit the width of the page, nationally recognized experts across the fields of law and psychiatry, including Tom Ridge, former U.S. Secretary appointed by former President George W. Bush to the then-newly created but administratively redundant Department of Homeland Security, selected by then-Governor, now-U.S. Senator and Vice Presidential Candidate Timothy M. Kaine fail to recognize the harm of a childhood devoid of praise or shaking a child as abusive behavior, much as Idaho’s mental health professionals in 2014 still failed to recognize spitting or slapping as abusive behavior, or your case and program managers fail to recognize malicious harassment and threats and gestures of bodily harm as illegal behaviors, compounded with the potential long-term harm effects of antidepressants prescribed in adolescence, and instead recommend more money, more case managers, which, in the field of psychiatry corrupted with the influence of pharmaceutical company executives who care about little more than acquiring more real property for themselves or padding their own bank accounts, means little more than still more meds inevitably contributing to still more egregious social harm.
In other words, after our national response to the 1999 Columbine High School massacre was zero tolerance and increased police surveillance, instead of learning from that brutal lesson, since 2007 the surveillance duties and responsibilities have shifted to undereducated “mental health professionals.”
And who, pray tell, is surveilling the passive aggressive and visually disabled case managers and mental health professionals undereducated in human psychology and so unfamiliar with 21st century technology that they fail to use Google to ascertain the difference between “delusions” and public record facts-?
My apologies for wasting so many years applying to those little art faculty and corporate design survival jobs. I had no idea how desperately this nation needs my cross-disciplinary skills at the imbrication of law and psychology until I was locked up with the mass shooter who returned to our graduate school community seven months after our shared incarceration and seven years after I published and nationally exhibited my MFA thesis examining the crux of difference between any two, not black and white polar opposites as we might feel more comfortable believing, but a blur of greyscale value, where we have twice-privileged the presence of abuse, neglecting the harm caused by the absence of nurturing.
As challenging as it might be, until we begin to recognize commonalities between self and, yes, even that most horrifying other, the serial killer or the mass shooter for some of us, or a beautiful, intelligent, compassionate woman crossing campus for others of you, our culture will never repair the egregious crimes that began as communication problems role modeled during early childhood development, and continue through a lack of healthy educational, communal, or spiritual role models.
With no changes in current education policy or social services delivery, you may expect the next generation of sexual assaults and campus massacres to be live-streamed and drone-delivered by white, male hackers lounging in the comfort of their recliners in the basement rec rooms of their fraternities. All because the short-term thinking, narcissistic engineers at Alphabet and Virginia Tech saw an opportunity to turn a profit delivering ever-faster burritos to the same target audience. Or the frat boys could learn how to roll and stuff their own tortillas?
April’s psychologist might begin by repeating familiar language back to her, gently asking, “Why did you give your power to Delores?”
Follow-up questions, prompting still further self-reflection, might be, “Was it out of white guilt?”
Or maybe, “Would you like to talk about what happened in your first five years of early childhood that left you readily identifying with the martyr narrative of the loudest person in the room instead of listening to all perspectives and weighing the preponderance of evidence before making sound business decisions?”
If April works very hard over the next 10 years, she might be able to repair whatever traumatic events she experienced that leave her still visibly stranded at the oral stage of early childhood development, ineffectively self-medicating her trauma with her chain-smoking addiction.
As far as I have been able to ascertain, once again performing the jobs of your case and program management team without benefit of their paychecks in the interest of protecting myself from criminally violent behavior, with respect to photography, the Washington legislature primarily concerns itself with image production and distribution as it rightly should, recognizing models and photographers as paid professional positions, hence the consent requirement, so passive consumers of imagery do not benefit from the active labor of professional visual producers without paying for it. Contrary to the opinions of a former director elected to Seattle School Board and her campaign manager brother of a 2016 contender for Commissioner of Public Lands, you cannot legally use visual product without paying the visual producer your contractually agreed wage.
Otherwise, are your staff familiar with 21st century sharing media such as YouTube, Flickr, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Vimeo, Pinterest, and don’t forget Delores’s Snapchat preference, and so on and on and on, each Silicon Alley, Valley, or Shanghai team globally vying for market triumph? According to RCW 63.60.070, consent is not required in connection with matters of cultural, historical, political, educational, newsworthy, or public interest, including for comment, criticism, and satire. April, Charlotte, Delores, and their gangs of thugs may not like my commenting on the criminal behavior perpetrated by Compass Housing Alliance, but cleaning up your social services act is newsworthy, and in the public interest. In other words, I can satirize your identity as a private- and taxpayer-funded nonprofit corporation that Lost Its Moral Compass Somewhere Along the Way Dysfunctional Housing Unholy Alliance Burning White Crosses on Seattle’s Front Porch, but you cannot legally use my original, satirical graphic design without my permission:
You’re welcome to redesign the identity core to your business values.
Which design and branding firm are you going to hire for that job?
They might be interested in hiring me, as I have already done the hard work of design research from the point of view of your clients instead of inventing stereotypical homeless personas, essential to providing healthier solutions to your communications problems.
As you can see from my Spring Rolls demonstration above capturing an audio snippet of Delores’s near-daily, foul-mouthed trauma narrative harassing your other clients, I have deliberately refrained from taking images of my housemates, even if it is legal, out of respect for confidentiality in our precarious positions as impoverished women, with who-knows-how-many of us fleeing domestic violence. Back to that Golden Rule, where I would not want Delores snapping her camera at me anymore than I want her raging at me. Yet once again, Charlotte disrespected the recommendations of arguably the global expert in the psychology of serial killers and former wife of a state prosecutor and preparing for my own law schooling, April only respected the loudest voice in the room and obediently allowed a criminal to dictate her program management decisions, and it looks like, in between the first of August and 22 days later you failed to inform your undereducated staff that landlord retaliation is prohibited by RCW 59.18.240, when Clare Tremper, Property Manager, stopped by to disrupt my pursuit of my educational and employment goals, knocking on my unit door without a prior appointment and demanding that I attend to her priorities at her convenience, personally hand-delivering another 10-Day Notice to Comply or Vacate, because April told her to, she stated to me: