By Ramsey El-Qare
The Guardsman

San Francisco Police Chief George Gascón apologizes during a news conference at the Holiday Inn Hotel San Francisco Golden Gateway on April 2 for his previous comments on the Middle Eastern communities. RAMSEY EL-QARE / THE GUARDSMAN

If you just inherited a police department that made headlines last year because its officers unjustly attacked and brutalized Arabs at an anti-war demonstration, you probably shouldn’t kick things off by making a racist crack about the San Francisco Middle Eastern community attacking the Hall of Justice.

Apparently, San Francisco Police Chief George Gascón never got the memo.

While speaking at a breakfast about the importance of an earthquake safety bond measure, he felt the need to emphasize that earthquakes are not the only thing the Hall of Justice needs to worry about: He said the city’s Middle Eastern community might destroy the building with a car bomb.

Gascón defended himself by saying he never mentioned certain Middle Eastern or Arab communities and that only Yemeni and Afghan communities pose a terrorism threat. What makes him think pointing to these two communities would make his statements acceptable?

The term “Middle East” is problematic because it is so loosely defined. Some people include Afghanistan and some do not. Gascón’s misuse of the word shows how little he knows about the people he’s attacking. Not all Middle Easterners are Arab, nor are they all exclusively Muslim.

The word terrorism is and has been used to justify abhorrent actions like the stripping of civil liberties and spying on the American people.

With his remarks, Gascón was not only scapegoating Yemeni and Afghan U.S. citizens, he was also endangering the lives of anyone from Arab, Muslim or Middle Eastern descent. The chief and the organization behind him are supposed to ensure our safety. Instead, entire communities are being put in harm’s way to get extra cash in the name of safety at the Hall of Justice. Shame on you, Chief Gascón.

The police chief holds a powerful position. While some may perceive his remarks as an accidental blurb, others will hear them and think that people from the Middle East can be mistreated, scapegoated and dumped upon because they are the lowest humans on the totem pole.

Gascón made a quick entrance and an even quicker exit at the media conference on April 2 where he apologized to the Yemeni community. His apology did not appear sincere and he didn’t answer any questions from the audience.

The San Francisco Police Department needs to demonstrate real commitment to equality for all oppressed communities in this city. Words are not enough.

An apology without actions following it makes no difference. All members of our society, regardless of what community they identify with, need to be treated with the respect they deserve.

One woman’s cultural journey to the polls and how she worked towards change

BY MAAHUM CHAUDHRY
CONTRIBUTING WRITER

Every election, whether a ballot requires a few arrows to be connected or many, is an important election. I don’t believe there is such a thing as a small election because exercising the right to vote is a significant way to help influence the policies of where you live.

Of course, this year is no different, but I am glad to see that others have finally come to realize what I have strongly believed for most of my mature life.

In my eyes, the youth vote is one of the most important factors for any election and I am happy to find that many young people have finally found themselves to be citizens with the integral obligation to vote.

I only wish I was old enough to feed my very own crisp piece of paper into a ballot sucking machine as well.
Even though I’m not old enough to vote, I am still part of the change. I worked as a polling-place worker on the historic day of Nov. 4 2008.

Though I had worked as an election poll worker in previous years during high school for some cash and as an excuse to miss school, this year it was purely to ease my conscience in knowing that I was part of the difference.

I’ve always been motivated to exercise my right to vote, to proudly earn an “I Voted” sticker of my own instead of taking one of my parents’.

Largely, because I feel like there aren’t many people out there who I would trust to make decisions that shape my future. I’m entirely non-partisan, I don’t agree with the entire Democratic platform, nor do I despise everything Republicans stand for.

As a proud young American-raised Pakistani-Muslim self-declared feminist, I think I’d have some trouble finding an adequate person to represent my views.

As a women, I would consider myself a disgrace to my gender if I didn’t vote after all the sacrifices made by the women who have preceded my existence. As a child of an immigrant couple, I would consider myself to be a disgrace to my parents and all immigrants if I didn’t freely decide the government that is bound to impact some of the most prominent features of my life.

As a Muslim woman, I would consider it a shame to stay at home and give some credibility to the stereotype that I have no independent voice or mind of my own and am therefore not capable of voting.

So on Election Day, I proudly wore an all-American smile on my prominent Pakistani features with a Hijab, a Muslim headscarf, to ensure that my handing out of “I Voted” stickers made me a part of the difference.