Sheltering without shelter during COVID-19
Donation protected
After losing our home in January of 2015, Theo was only two and a half years old. This was caused by two things. Domestic violence and serious illness. I did not want to raise my child on the streets. With the little savings I possessed, I paid for hotel rooms, moving around town as none of them allowed a long stay. At times without money, our only option to finding shelter was at our abusers dads apartment. Or our car. Every time we went there the abuse worsened. Especially because it was not just my ex. His father was just as violent and abusive as he was. We have tried everything to find stability -- a place we can call home. After two stressful years of living between hotel rooms, our car and the bad place, my ex crashed our car. He found us a temporary room to rent but at a place that turned out to be more horrible for us than anything you could ever imagine.
It was at that house that I was so violently hurt that I was left with a traumatic brain injury and eye injury. I was impaled on a bicycle fork by a person my ex had paid to teach me a lesson. He had recently gotten out of domestic violence court trouble by whatever means he had available. However I was unaware of this and after a very violent assault that he and his father initiated on me as well as recorded; I contacted the d.a. for help. Their version of help was to go tell my ex and his dad that I'd called for help. The lesson he wanted me to learn was to keep my mouth shut or else. He had me taught that lesson with my baby boy watching.
All I learned was that he was doubly dangerous and that the system was not going to help us. We were stuck. While I was hospitalized he acquired an rv. The back end had a gash in it from being hit by a car. However the whole backend ended up having to be torn out when my ex ripped the over full septic tank out within days of buying it. So with the back half of the rv hastily rebuilt with plywood we spent a small amount of time in west oakland. But it was a struggle to get Theo to preschool everyday back home in Berkeley.
By the summer of 2017 we had brought the rv to the Berkeley Marina. It moved off and on of the Marina for a month or so then one day someone put a food cooler filled with rotting fish bait underneath it. Probably to gross us out from the stench. Which it did. But it also brought in the rats. They quickly decimated what was still functioning of the rv wiring and rendered it unmovable. My ex left it as it was for another month and then went to jail for domestic violence.
It was labeled a probation violation for his drug case but he was gone for a few months at least.
I worked hard to try and get us out of there before he returned. January of 2018 he was released. We werent there. I had finally been granted disability from an ADR judge. It had taken five years and gone from the disabilities I had gained due to a bad vaccine; then added in a broken back (from my ex) when Theo was 4 months old, to losing my honest vision and being subjected to this horribly askew view I now have to see the world with, and the brain trauma that came with that damage. On my own I had broken my arm in the most damaging way possible. Which led to the discovery of the degenerative bone disease, that had snuck up on me.
Most of my disability could be pinpointed to a vaccine I was given when I was 7months pregnant.
And should be.
But that has been one of the huge battles I've faced in this homeless nightmare.
The other hug battle was how sick Theo and I had become.
From that vaccine forward I was sick then he was sick then I was sick and back and forth. Till one day there was no back and forth. There was only how long have we been sick this time. Or get ready to be sick again. It's been one week of free and clear.
This worsened each year and with each loss or trauma.
With no real answers from the medical world. Until one day when we learned a huge lie and then discovered the hard truth from it.
Childrens Hospital told me my son had Tuberculosis. For six whole hours my whole world was devastated.
Then the CIDC came in checked us, reviewed our charts and told the hospital to take back the diagnosis, tell me they were sorry for scaring me to death and then find out what was really wrong with us.
I promise you I do not make these things up. It was a horrible and ridiculous and mind numbingly scary as it sounds.
The short of that part is, by the end of that day, December 12th, 2016, the hospital had failed to divulge our illness. But with the help of an amazing woman from Alameda county first five, we had discovered the answer.
It was not one we wanted. But it was an answer.
We had Whooping cough. Pertussis.
An illness that many doctors lamely claimed had been cured by vaccines.
Vaccines dont cure. Especially if it's the vaccine given to an unknowing pregnant woman, prior to it ever being legal to vaccinate during pregnancy.
The vaccine I had been given that had caused my bones to age and break and arthritis to began shutting me down and other issues that are to detailed to list; had been a TDAP vaccine.
Childrens hospitals computer screen of my sons shot records opened up that door. I saw it while the doctor was talking to me. It was different than the one I had carried with us forever. It had an extra dose of vaccines on it. When I asked he what pertussis was, she turned the screen off and left the room to get security.
Now the thing is, there is no vaccine called pertussis. Its tdap or dtap. Its mixed with other vaccines. And I had been the one given the bad vaccine. I didnt even equate any vaccines with is being sick all those years. Until then. So why was an extra showing on their records but not on his records I had?
I confirmed all that with the first five woman and then told her I was hanging up getting my child dressed and leaving. And to be prepared if she gets any calls about us afterwards. At first no one would let us leave.
But my son, Theo the super keen kid, started walking all over the hospital without a mask on. He wouldn't let himself cough if kids or parents were nearby. But he'd walk right up to doctors and nurses and cough as much as he needed to. Which is a whole lot.
Amazingly a path cleared and we left.
And our story changed in leaps and bounds.
No longer did the medical community tell us it would go away. Now they actively worked to make me look the antagonist. By february of 2017 we had another shocker. We found a doctor who was old enough and wise enough to listen to our story. He had been a doctor when whooping cough was a danger. Forty years prior he said.
He confirmed my suspicions. And gave us a diagnosis on record. The problem was that we had been sick actively without end for over a year and prior to that off and on since he was born. I started coughing the second that vaccine was put in my left shoulder. I just didnt do the math until then. Honestly I didnt get it all figured out until last year.
What this did to us was part of why we are not in a shelter.
Not because the shelters or the city acknowledged our illness and kept us away to protect others.
No they tried to put us in every shelter we previously had been denied.
I refused to go. I would not let them force us to share a room with an infant or a shelter with little kids everywhere. Which is what Berkeley offered. The few times they did.
So all of that and more transpired and led to the rv and the Marina. When my ex was released in january 2018, he was restrained even more than previously. The court order said no contact. Unfortunately it didnt get read that way by the police or by Berkeley mental health.
They had come into the picture while he was in jail. I wanted a therapist for my son because of what hed experienced. And because something else had begun affecting him. His dad had been gone for a month. He was fine. Then one day he wasnt. He was in pre k. He spoke perfectly acted wonderfully and was a very happy stable child despite all hed experienced.
So when he stopped talking overnight, except to say die die die kill kill kill, I knew something was wrong. I just had no clue what.
I sesrched the internet for child therapist and found something called children youth and family services. I did not know it was city of berkeley. I wouldnt have cared less at that point. I just wanted someone to help me help my baby.
They didnt. They had no actual therapist. But didnt tell me that. They also had another agenda. Removing the homeless rv family from the very public eye at the berkeley marina.
Again no one told me.
They told my ex. In jail. Where they went to make an agreement with him as to his and our situation.
Get rid of me. Get him custody of my son. Get the TV off the Marina and the homeless family off Berkeley's records.
It took them another 8 months to get rid of our rv. Which berkeley did along with my ex.
But no one was able to manipulate the situation so much that they succeeded completely.
They failed to cause my mental breakdown. They failed to cause my ex to succeed in taking my child and that failure was based on one huge point. He just never has enough space in his life for anybody else's well being. Even his child.
After the city manager and berkeley mental health and parks and rec illegally towed the rv, on the basis that I had housing but just could accept it and needed to be forced to reality; things quickly failed. Instead of towing the TV to west oakland for my ex and his new girlfriend, the driver impounded it. Maybe because he actually listened to the screaming little boy and the crying mom saying their whole life is in that thing. All while the dad stands laughing at them with the police officer who looked on in shock. Till the little boy tried to make the tow truck stop by running in front of his rv. The officer snapped out of it and proved why shes a cop, by running and grabbing Theo, just in time.
That was the end of the beginning.
My ex eventually went back to jail for domestic violence again. I got the last of my disability back pay. That kept us in hotels until january 2019. I had arranged a housing contract with berkeley which wouldve started helping with hotels and housing immediately.
I mean out of funds on January 13th, 2019. Berkeley failed to adhere to its contracted agreement.
We slept in our first real tent that night. The storms started january 14th 2019. And didnt stop for weeks.
We ended up with pnuemonia. The school district tried to intervene with Berkeley mental health about the agreement. They were the only access to housing back then.
They flat out lied and then refused to help us.
The woman who they said that to, Laura Rivas, heard those words and immediately setup a gofundme for us. I was against asking people for help like that considering the taxes theyve paid shouldve been going to that contract.
But Laura was right and we were sick.
She administered that gofundme tirelessly for three months. She paid for our hotels provided funds for groceries and necessities and also tried to help me, find us an apartment.
That part failed but she kept us alive. I also contributed my income. As I always have.
I worked as hard as I could to get us a voucher.
I succeeded in by march 28th 2019. Unfortunately berkeley mental health has given the support service job.
They handed me the voucher April 11th 2019 but had to take it back to remove my ex as the voucher holder. I had to demand they correct it.
It was returned by april 22nd 2019 and I was accepted for an apartment the next day.
What followed was more and more purposeful failures at the hands of Berkeley Mental Health, discrimination from property management despite being told to accept me by the owners representative. Twice.
Then refusal bu the city manager to enforce berkeley discrimination of source of income law when I requested help.
Then the refusal of berkeley mental health to help with hotels followed with their lying about my not attending meetings in order to cause my voucher to be rescinded.
July 2019 we found ourselves back in a tent with no money. I had followed my part of the housing deal by paying for our hotel with my income. Berkeley chose to not pay their part. As usual.
We met the photographer for the chronicle at that point. July 22nd 2019.
Theo got pnuemonia right after that. Berkeley called cps and said I was denying him medication. CPS came and saw the lie as it was and also saw I was doing everything and more for my son.
CPS told berkeley to do their jobs.
Berkeley refused but not on record. Only in real life. As usual.
This threatened to become an endless cycle that we wouldnt escape. Unless I said enough and separated from the city. Honestly when berkeley isnt involved our stress is alot more focused. It's about what it should be about. Not caused by their endless games and trouble.
So we were ok but in a tent. From september until october 19th 2019.
Community members said enough and got us a room for a month while they took berkeley head on. That went nowhere. By december 2019 we were in a tent again. At his school park. And getting sick again. I took down the tent everyday so the kids wouldnt be bothered by it and then waited till dark to put it back up. Theo and I quickly lost strength.
I tore my hernia december 18th 2019.
The police came and threatened to arrest me if I didnt move the tent from the school park to the public sidewalk at 10:30pm. He waited till the rain started and my child was coughing a hoarse cough in his sleep.
For the first time in my life I raised my voice with a police officer and refused to let him make us move or arrest me. I asked where Berkeley's hot team was. He said he never heard of them and then told me I had been declared a public nuisance. I finally know what that means via googling it.
This story is still long. I will continue it later.
I just needed it to say it right. For once. We must tell our story's for ourselves I guess.
I understand this a complete redo of the GoFundMe story. I am grateful to Yesica Prado for her version. I was unable emotionally to do it at the time. The chronicle story broke my heart. Not for the reasons it broke yours I assume.
I will write the rest later.
Thank you all for being here for us.
Your thoughts and prayers and hopes are worth everything.
God bless
It was at that house that I was so violently hurt that I was left with a traumatic brain injury and eye injury. I was impaled on a bicycle fork by a person my ex had paid to teach me a lesson. He had recently gotten out of domestic violence court trouble by whatever means he had available. However I was unaware of this and after a very violent assault that he and his father initiated on me as well as recorded; I contacted the d.a. for help. Their version of help was to go tell my ex and his dad that I'd called for help. The lesson he wanted me to learn was to keep my mouth shut or else. He had me taught that lesson with my baby boy watching.
All I learned was that he was doubly dangerous and that the system was not going to help us. We were stuck. While I was hospitalized he acquired an rv. The back end had a gash in it from being hit by a car. However the whole backend ended up having to be torn out when my ex ripped the over full septic tank out within days of buying it. So with the back half of the rv hastily rebuilt with plywood we spent a small amount of time in west oakland. But it was a struggle to get Theo to preschool everyday back home in Berkeley.
By the summer of 2017 we had brought the rv to the Berkeley Marina. It moved off and on of the Marina for a month or so then one day someone put a food cooler filled with rotting fish bait underneath it. Probably to gross us out from the stench. Which it did. But it also brought in the rats. They quickly decimated what was still functioning of the rv wiring and rendered it unmovable. My ex left it as it was for another month and then went to jail for domestic violence.
It was labeled a probation violation for his drug case but he was gone for a few months at least.
I worked hard to try and get us out of there before he returned. January of 2018 he was released. We werent there. I had finally been granted disability from an ADR judge. It had taken five years and gone from the disabilities I had gained due to a bad vaccine; then added in a broken back (from my ex) when Theo was 4 months old, to losing my honest vision and being subjected to this horribly askew view I now have to see the world with, and the brain trauma that came with that damage. On my own I had broken my arm in the most damaging way possible. Which led to the discovery of the degenerative bone disease, that had snuck up on me.
Most of my disability could be pinpointed to a vaccine I was given when I was 7months pregnant.
And should be.
But that has been one of the huge battles I've faced in this homeless nightmare.
The other hug battle was how sick Theo and I had become.
From that vaccine forward I was sick then he was sick then I was sick and back and forth. Till one day there was no back and forth. There was only how long have we been sick this time. Or get ready to be sick again. It's been one week of free and clear.
This worsened each year and with each loss or trauma.
With no real answers from the medical world. Until one day when we learned a huge lie and then discovered the hard truth from it.
Childrens Hospital told me my son had Tuberculosis. For six whole hours my whole world was devastated.
Then the CIDC came in checked us, reviewed our charts and told the hospital to take back the diagnosis, tell me they were sorry for scaring me to death and then find out what was really wrong with us.
I promise you I do not make these things up. It was a horrible and ridiculous and mind numbingly scary as it sounds.
The short of that part is, by the end of that day, December 12th, 2016, the hospital had failed to divulge our illness. But with the help of an amazing woman from Alameda county first five, we had discovered the answer.
It was not one we wanted. But it was an answer.
We had Whooping cough. Pertussis.
An illness that many doctors lamely claimed had been cured by vaccines.
Vaccines dont cure. Especially if it's the vaccine given to an unknowing pregnant woman, prior to it ever being legal to vaccinate during pregnancy.
The vaccine I had been given that had caused my bones to age and break and arthritis to began shutting me down and other issues that are to detailed to list; had been a TDAP vaccine.
Childrens hospitals computer screen of my sons shot records opened up that door. I saw it while the doctor was talking to me. It was different than the one I had carried with us forever. It had an extra dose of vaccines on it. When I asked he what pertussis was, she turned the screen off and left the room to get security.
Now the thing is, there is no vaccine called pertussis. Its tdap or dtap. Its mixed with other vaccines. And I had been the one given the bad vaccine. I didnt even equate any vaccines with is being sick all those years. Until then. So why was an extra showing on their records but not on his records I had?
I confirmed all that with the first five woman and then told her I was hanging up getting my child dressed and leaving. And to be prepared if she gets any calls about us afterwards. At first no one would let us leave.
But my son, Theo the super keen kid, started walking all over the hospital without a mask on. He wouldn't let himself cough if kids or parents were nearby. But he'd walk right up to doctors and nurses and cough as much as he needed to. Which is a whole lot.
Amazingly a path cleared and we left.
And our story changed in leaps and bounds.
No longer did the medical community tell us it would go away. Now they actively worked to make me look the antagonist. By february of 2017 we had another shocker. We found a doctor who was old enough and wise enough to listen to our story. He had been a doctor when whooping cough was a danger. Forty years prior he said.
He confirmed my suspicions. And gave us a diagnosis on record. The problem was that we had been sick actively without end for over a year and prior to that off and on since he was born. I started coughing the second that vaccine was put in my left shoulder. I just didnt do the math until then. Honestly I didnt get it all figured out until last year.
What this did to us was part of why we are not in a shelter.
Not because the shelters or the city acknowledged our illness and kept us away to protect others.
No they tried to put us in every shelter we previously had been denied.
I refused to go. I would not let them force us to share a room with an infant or a shelter with little kids everywhere. Which is what Berkeley offered. The few times they did.
So all of that and more transpired and led to the rv and the Marina. When my ex was released in january 2018, he was restrained even more than previously. The court order said no contact. Unfortunately it didnt get read that way by the police or by Berkeley mental health.
They had come into the picture while he was in jail. I wanted a therapist for my son because of what hed experienced. And because something else had begun affecting him. His dad had been gone for a month. He was fine. Then one day he wasnt. He was in pre k. He spoke perfectly acted wonderfully and was a very happy stable child despite all hed experienced.
So when he stopped talking overnight, except to say die die die kill kill kill, I knew something was wrong. I just had no clue what.
I sesrched the internet for child therapist and found something called children youth and family services. I did not know it was city of berkeley. I wouldnt have cared less at that point. I just wanted someone to help me help my baby.
They didnt. They had no actual therapist. But didnt tell me that. They also had another agenda. Removing the homeless rv family from the very public eye at the berkeley marina.
Again no one told me.
They told my ex. In jail. Where they went to make an agreement with him as to his and our situation.
Get rid of me. Get him custody of my son. Get the TV off the Marina and the homeless family off Berkeley's records.
It took them another 8 months to get rid of our rv. Which berkeley did along with my ex.
But no one was able to manipulate the situation so much that they succeeded completely.
They failed to cause my mental breakdown. They failed to cause my ex to succeed in taking my child and that failure was based on one huge point. He just never has enough space in his life for anybody else's well being. Even his child.
After the city manager and berkeley mental health and parks and rec illegally towed the rv, on the basis that I had housing but just could accept it and needed to be forced to reality; things quickly failed. Instead of towing the TV to west oakland for my ex and his new girlfriend, the driver impounded it. Maybe because he actually listened to the screaming little boy and the crying mom saying their whole life is in that thing. All while the dad stands laughing at them with the police officer who looked on in shock. Till the little boy tried to make the tow truck stop by running in front of his rv. The officer snapped out of it and proved why shes a cop, by running and grabbing Theo, just in time.
That was the end of the beginning.
My ex eventually went back to jail for domestic violence again. I got the last of my disability back pay. That kept us in hotels until january 2019. I had arranged a housing contract with berkeley which wouldve started helping with hotels and housing immediately.
I mean out of funds on January 13th, 2019. Berkeley failed to adhere to its contracted agreement.
We slept in our first real tent that night. The storms started january 14th 2019. And didnt stop for weeks.
We ended up with pnuemonia. The school district tried to intervene with Berkeley mental health about the agreement. They were the only access to housing back then.
They flat out lied and then refused to help us.
The woman who they said that to, Laura Rivas, heard those words and immediately setup a gofundme for us. I was against asking people for help like that considering the taxes theyve paid shouldve been going to that contract.
But Laura was right and we were sick.
She administered that gofundme tirelessly for three months. She paid for our hotels provided funds for groceries and necessities and also tried to help me, find us an apartment.
That part failed but she kept us alive. I also contributed my income. As I always have.
I worked as hard as I could to get us a voucher.
I succeeded in by march 28th 2019. Unfortunately berkeley mental health has given the support service job.
They handed me the voucher April 11th 2019 but had to take it back to remove my ex as the voucher holder. I had to demand they correct it.
It was returned by april 22nd 2019 and I was accepted for an apartment the next day.
What followed was more and more purposeful failures at the hands of Berkeley Mental Health, discrimination from property management despite being told to accept me by the owners representative. Twice.
Then refusal bu the city manager to enforce berkeley discrimination of source of income law when I requested help.
Then the refusal of berkeley mental health to help with hotels followed with their lying about my not attending meetings in order to cause my voucher to be rescinded.
July 2019 we found ourselves back in a tent with no money. I had followed my part of the housing deal by paying for our hotel with my income. Berkeley chose to not pay their part. As usual.
We met the photographer for the chronicle at that point. July 22nd 2019.
Theo got pnuemonia right after that. Berkeley called cps and said I was denying him medication. CPS came and saw the lie as it was and also saw I was doing everything and more for my son.
CPS told berkeley to do their jobs.
Berkeley refused but not on record. Only in real life. As usual.
This threatened to become an endless cycle that we wouldnt escape. Unless I said enough and separated from the city. Honestly when berkeley isnt involved our stress is alot more focused. It's about what it should be about. Not caused by their endless games and trouble.
So we were ok but in a tent. From september until october 19th 2019.
Community members said enough and got us a room for a month while they took berkeley head on. That went nowhere. By december 2019 we were in a tent again. At his school park. And getting sick again. I took down the tent everyday so the kids wouldnt be bothered by it and then waited till dark to put it back up. Theo and I quickly lost strength.
I tore my hernia december 18th 2019.
The police came and threatened to arrest me if I didnt move the tent from the school park to the public sidewalk at 10:30pm. He waited till the rain started and my child was coughing a hoarse cough in his sleep.
For the first time in my life I raised my voice with a police officer and refused to let him make us move or arrest me. I asked where Berkeley's hot team was. He said he never heard of them and then told me I had been declared a public nuisance. I finally know what that means via googling it.
This story is still long. I will continue it later.
I just needed it to say it right. For once. We must tell our story's for ourselves I guess.
I understand this a complete redo of the GoFundMe story. I am grateful to Yesica Prado for her version. I was unable emotionally to do it at the time. The chronicle story broke my heart. Not for the reasons it broke yours I assume.
I will write the rest later.
Thank you all for being here for us.
Your thoughts and prayers and hopes are worth everything.
God bless
Organizer
Nomi Gonzales
Organizer
Berkeley, CA
