Jaime Alfaro https://www.opendemocracy.net/taxonomy/term/22453/all cached version 10/02/2019 01:53:33 en Ferguson Rises: a documentary on love, hope and beauty https://www.opendemocracy.net/transformation/jaime-alfaro/ferguson-rises-documentary-on-love-hope-and-beauty <div class="field field-summary"> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> <p>Mobolaji Olambiwonnu hopes his new film on the killing of Michael Brown will bring healing, dignity, and investment to Black communities affected by police violence.</p> </div> </div> </div> <p><img src="//cdn.opendemocracy.net/files/Fergusoncropped_4.jpg" alt="" width="460" /></p><p class="image-caption">Credit: By Loavesofbread - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34803313">Wikimedia.com</a>.</p> <p>Where do you find hope? What do you love? What do you find beautiful?</p> <p>Equipped with these three questions, filmmaker <a href="http://hopelovebeauty.com/">Mobolaji Olambiwonnu</a> packed up his gear and flew from California to Ferguson, Missouri. Just days before, on November 24, 2014, a grand jury had exonerated police officer Darren Wilson, who shot and killed African American teenager Michael Brown, of any criminal charges.</p> <p>The city erupted into a series of protests after the August 9&nbsp;shooting and then again immediately following the non-indictment. Ferguson suddenly became the center of national discussions about police violence against Black communities and the increased militarization of police. But many Ferguson residents weren’t surprised: They felt this clash with police was years in the making. A Department of Justice report published seven months after Michael Brown’s death found what everyone on the ground already knew: that Ferguson police disproportionately targeted African Americans.</p> <p>Together with high unemployment and poverty rates, instances of police brutality carved out deep-seated tensions between a largely disenfranchised African American community in Ferguson and police. Yet, those same African American communities were being depicted unfairly by the media, said Olambiwonnu, who knew there had to be something more than just anger, fear, and frustration.&nbsp;</p> <p>Olambiwonnu&nbsp;wanted to see if he could look beyond the surface depictions of violence and tragedy that characterized Ferguson and find within the city a narrative of the events that embraced qualities of hope, love, and beauty. Knowing community members’ own answers to those questions, he said, would allow people to see beyond the limited and all-too-common narratives of racism and division portrayed in the news. Olambiwonnu wanted to tell the story of&nbsp;Ferguson as the story of real human beings, which the documentarian believes is a necessary step to healing and moving forward.&nbsp;</p> <p>That was the challenge of his latest documentary,&nbsp;<em><a href="http://hopelovebeauty.com/">Ferguson Rises</a></em>, the first in a series of films to be produced by the Hope, Love, and Beauty Project, an online platform that produces films and events intended to bring hope, healing, dignity, and investment to African American communities affected by police violence. The Pasadena-based production company—a collaboration of various artists, producers, and directors—started as an Indiegogo campaign in 2014, and after raising enough funds, Olambiwonnu&nbsp;and his team returned to Ferguson and tracked the lives of several residents, from the killing of Michael Brown to the one-year anniversary of his death in August 2015. The film is currently in post-production and is loosely slated to release later this year.</p> <p><em>This interview has been lightly edited.</em></p> <p><strong>Jaime Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>Can you tell me about the beginning of the project?</p> <p><strong>Mobolaji Olambiwonnu</strong>:&nbsp;We started with the idea of finding hope, love, and beauty in places where people least expect to find it. Our goal is to shoot counternarratives so people can see positive views of communities that are usually maligned in the media.</p> <p>When Mike Brown was killed and the decision to not indict Darren Wilson occurred, it was at that point I thought, Wow, we need to go to Ferguson, because that’s a place where rioting has broken out and people have an extremely negative view of that community; we’re only seeing one side in the media, and it seems very polarized and very hopeless. This would be a great place to ask those questions—“Where do you find hope? What do you love? What do you find beautiful?”—to cause people to remember that it’s not all lost.</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>What motivated you to start the project?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:</strong>&nbsp;What motivated me to do that was being depressed over the state of race relations in America and realizing my son was about two months away from being born, and thinking about what the world would be like for him. I’m older now, so I&nbsp;<em>believe&nbsp;</em>I’m at less risk of negative interactions with the police, but I knew that he was going to be born and he’s going to have to go through some of the similar things that I’ve gone through, hopefully not worse. I just couldn’t picture giving birth to my son and not in some way doing something to change the narrative for him to be able to see what’s possible in the midst of all this, so he doesn’t have to look at a world that’s just simply polarized. There has to be in my imagination something other than what we’re seeing, so I went in search of something other than what we were seeing.</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>Did you find the narrative you were looking for in Ferguson?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:</strong>&nbsp;Yes, definitely. We found it. There are very obvious surface ways—people are painting murals over the wood that covers smashed windows—but there was this other element that we couldn’t figure out exactly how it was positive—which were the protests and what seemed to be anger and rancor. Then we spent more time with the protestors, with the community members, and what we discovered was that hope, love, and beauty is not this neatly packaged sweet thing that people expect it to be.</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>What does it look like?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:</strong>&nbsp;What we discovered was that, for the people of St. Louis [or] Ferguson, hope, love, and beauty came out of the struggle.</p> <p>They gained their hope on the streets of Ferguson from standing and protesting, demanding change. That was their hope. Just the mere fact that people can get up every morning in spite of the circumstances that they’re living under and take action and speak up and have a voice—the very fact that they are not broken—is a demonstration of the fact that they have hope. Hope, love, and beauty looked like angry people. It looked like people arguing. It looked like people standing up. But all in all, it looked like people taking action in their lives.</p> <p>Ironically, it turned out that hope, love, and beauty looked like agitation. It wasn’t something you could necessarily say, “Oh, we won this, we won that”—yes, there was a Department of Justice report, yes, there were other shifts in the council in Ferguson—but it wasn’t just about governmental changes. It was about changes that occurred within people themselves, and that’s what impacts institutions.</p><iframe width="460" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/d21Q0Uhfgqg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><p class="image-caption">Trailer for Ferguson Rises. </p><p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>It sounds like the name Hope, Love, and Beauty carries with it an acknowledgment of painful emotions. Do you show this as well?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:&nbsp;</strong>We don’t think you can have hope without going through the pain. We try not to dwell in it, but we have to feel it in order to develop the capacity for true compassion. When we have felt pain, we can see it in others and hopefully help them with theirs.&nbsp;</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>You found that hope, love, and beauty came out of crisis?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:</strong>&nbsp;When my producer Tanayi and I spoke to many people in the community, initially they were irritated by the idea of HLB. “Why are you talking about this stuff? These horrible things are happening in our community. We have to stand up and fight. We don’t want to talk about hope, love, and beauty; there’s none of that here.” Then we’d ask them, “Well, what gets you up in the morning?” And they’d say, “My children get me up in the morning. I’m fighting for a better future for them.” We’d ask them, “What are you trying to create?” “We’re trying to make change.”</p> <p>So you’re trying to create a new vision for the world, something that’s beautiful and helpful and transformative for your children. That sounds like hope, love, and beauty.</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>So there’s an impact you had in doing the project and another impact the film itself will have?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:</strong>&nbsp;The documentary is the story of a community. One of the biggest challenges is to have a transformative conversation about hope, love, and beauty, but not shoehorn it into the story itself, but to have it be organic to the lives and the conversations that are taking place in the community.</p> <p>The goal is not to have forced dialogue about HLB, but witness and look for HLB in the midst of what we see in the everyday lives of these members of the community.&nbsp;</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>Do you think Ferguson has begun to heal from this?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:</strong>&nbsp;We definitely feel the process of healing has begun in Ferguson, but it’s an ongoing process. In watching people, we’ve noticed that bonds have become tighter between people, which we think is really the first indication of healing from trauma.</p> <p>Rather than attempting to have positive action come from anger or come from a feeling of a need for retribution, our theory and belief is that if we actually start to have these kinds of conversations about hope, love, and beauty, then action can come from that space and therefore be more transformative and much more impactful.</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>Can you talk more about shared connections?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:&nbsp;</strong>As a team with a background in conflict resolution as well as film, what we learned from conflict resolution is that you always start with what people have in common. And if we start to see what we have in common, then we can start to have a conversation about what we don't have in common. But it’s coming from of a place of “I know you.”</p> <p>Now I see you as more than just the opposition, or more than just someone who is narrow-minded and doesn’t get the point. I see you as a full-fledged human being, and so far I think what people love about this film when we’ve shown our rough cuts is that they feel that all the characters are human beings. Because we were looking for their humanity, we were able to find it.</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>Does this story go&nbsp;beyond a single city?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu</strong>:&nbsp;They have a saying on the ground: “Ferguson is everywhere.” The goal is to make a documentary about Ferguson and to talk about how Ferguson is representative of who we all are—representative of communities that we all live in.</p> <p>People may want to limit the story of Ferguson to police brutality, but it’s so much broader than that. It is all that is good and all that is bad about us. The goal is to make the audience aware of what happened in Ferguson and have them say, “This could be my town, and maybe it is my town; maybe I just don’t know it.” It might cause them to become a little more interested in their town, a little more interested in the people, in the impact that these issues might have on people in their community.&nbsp;</p> <p><strong>Alfaro:&nbsp;</strong>Do you think we’re ready to see each other’s humanity in this way?</p> <p><strong>Olambiwonnu:&nbsp;</strong>We’re at a critical juncture as a culture and as a planet, where if we don’t see each other’s humanity, we will continue to descend into simple narratives that cost people their lives. Over 600 people have died so far this year at the hands of police and eight police officers have died in retaliation. So at what point is it going to be enough deaths?&nbsp;</p> <p>We’re at a point where people are beginning to tell their story and tell their truths. I think we’re reaching a place where we’re able to access information that allows us to understand other people and to relate to their pain and their struggle. Then it just becomes a choice: Are we going to choose not to see it?</p> <p>It’ll be there for us to see in a much more in-your-face way. I think that’s the beauty of our time.</p> <p class="image-caption">This article was first published by <a href="http://www.yesmagazine.org/peace-justice/a-documentary-on-hope-love-and-beauty-in-ferguson-20160819?utm_source=YTW&amp;utm_medium=Email&amp;utm_campaign=20160819">YES! Magazine</a>.</p><fieldset class="fieldgroup group-sideboxs"><legend>Sideboxes</legend><div class="field field-related-stories"> <div class="field-label">Related stories:&nbsp;</div> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> <a href="/transformation/jaime-alfaro/after-violence-and-videos-therapists-learn-to-treat-racial-trauma">After the violence and videos, therapists learn to treat racial trauma</a> </div> <div class="field-item even"> <a href="/transformation/scot-nakagawa/for-racial-healing-we-need-to-get-real-about-racism">For racial healing, we need to get real about racism </a> </div> <div class="field-item odd"> <a href="/meriem-bekka/ferguson-to-baltimore-taking-on-institutionalized-racism">Ferguson to Baltimore: taking on institutionalized racism </a> </div> </div> </div> </fieldset> <div class="field field-rights"> <div class="field-label">Rights:&nbsp;</div> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> CC by NC 4.0 </div> </div> </div> Transformation Transformation Jaime Alfaro Activism Intersectionality Love and Spirituality Fri, 04 Nov 2016 00:01:00 +0000 Jaime Alfaro 106451 at https://www.opendemocracy.net After the violence and videos, therapists learn to treat racial trauma https://www.opendemocracy.net/transformation/jaime-alfaro/after-violence-and-videos-therapists-learn-to-treat-racial-trauma <div class="field field-summary"> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> <p>From specialized clinics for African Americans to social media events that take the shame out of sharing, there's a growing movement to heal the psychological scars of racism.</p> </div> </div> </div> <p><img src="//cdn.opendemocracy.net/files/Jaimealfaro2.jpg" alt="" width="460" /></p><p class="image-caption">Bassey Ikpi. Credit:&nbsp;YES! Magazine/Victor Ehikhamenor. All rights reserved</p> <p>In 2<span>004, spoken word artist Bassey Ikpi was hospitalized after a major bipolar breakdown. She’d been quietly diagnosed with the disorder eight months earlier while on tour with&nbsp;</span><em>Def Poetry Jam</em><span>, an HBO slam poetry television series. Hushed by the fear of stigma, Ikpi weathered the storm in silence for as long as she could.&nbsp;</span></p> <p>“Everything I’d ever heard about mental illness was either negative or shameful,” said Ikpi, who was partially raised in Nigeria, of how she learned to process her experiences. “You do what you need to do to take care of it, but we don’t discuss it.”</p> <p>Lacking a meaningful support system and feeling isolated, Ikpi was not prepared to accept her diagnosis or that it required a lifetime of careful monitoring and a strict regimen of medication. After six months, she stopped taking her meds, crashed, and was hospitalized for the first time in her life.&nbsp;</p> <p>At the time, she didn't draw a connection between how she was feeling and the experience of racism.&nbsp;Race-based trauma describes the physical and psychological symptoms people of color often experience after being exposed—directly or indirectly—to stressful experiences resulting from racism. According to a report by Boston College’s Institution for the Study and Promotion of Race and Culture, frequent exposure to racism intensifies symptoms of trauma. “Racial trauma is a cumulative experience, where every personal or vicarious encounter with racism contributes to a more insidious, chronic stress,” the researchers wrote. This stress is often magnified by the lack of space to name, express, and heal from it, as Ikpi experienced.</p> <p>Recent media attention to the spate of highly publicized police killings of unarmed Black men has amplified awareness of systemic racism, but experts on racial trauma say that there are currently few adequate therapeutic structures in place to help Black communities process these experiences.&nbsp;Underlying the steady stream of sensational, violent images are more everyday abuses—the discrimination, exclusion, and economic hardships that also compound trauma.</p> <p>“Most clinicians are White, so they don’t experience these things, so they don’t see them, and so they’re not thinking about them,” said Monnica Williams, an African-American clinical psychologist and director of the Center for Mental Health Disparities who specializes in racial trauma. “It’s important to always find out how much of a role stress from racism is playing in [patients’] lives and if it’s to the point where it’s traumatic.” Williams, who treats most of her patients at her clinic in Louisville, Kentucky, is in the process of opening a clinic in Connecticut that will specialize in African-American mental health. In January, she opened a second Louisville clinic focused on treating refugees.&nbsp;She points out that only in the last 15 years have researchers made a clear connection between racial discrimination and negative health outcomes like depression, sleeplessness, anger, numbness, and loss of appetite—symptoms she regularly sees in her patients.</p> <p>The effects extend to communities too. Christen Smith, an assistant professor of anthropology and African diaspora studies at University of Texas, Austin, has studied police violence against Black people in North and South America and describes the psychological aftermath of violence as a slow eating away of Black communities. “We can take the case of Tamir Rice, a 12-year-old boy who was killed in Cleveland, Ohio,” she said. “His mother, Samaria Rice, talks about not eating, depression, trauma, and we know these things are lethal.”</p> <p>In a 2016 report called “Stress in America,” the American Psychological Association said that nearly 40 percent of African-American men reported being treated unfairly by police or law enforcement—unfairly stopped, searched, questioned, and physically threatened or abused. In a 2014&nbsp;<em>American Journal of Public Health</em>&nbsp;study of young urban men, 85 percent of participants reported being stopped at least once in their lifetime; and those who reported more intrusive police contact also experienced increased trauma and anxiety symptoms.&nbsp;</p> <p>Traumatic impacts don’t just come from live encounters. Although social media can be a powerful tool for documenting and processing trauma, the constant stream of violent images can also trigger difficult responses. “It’s painful to go on social media and see people die,” said Smith. “Watching the footage of Philando Castile being shot—it was heartwrenching, it was horrible. I stayed up all night.”</p> <p>Experts believe that healing these wounds requires several steps, from creating practices and clinics designed to recognize and address race-based trauma to destigmatizing it in the first place.</p> <p><strong>A guidebook for real listening.</strong></p> <p>One of Williams­­­­’ first clients was a woman who had been traumatized by racism on the job. “She had every classic symptom of PTSD from what most clinicians wouldn’t even consider a traumatic event,” Williams said. Although her patient was high-functioning, she left work after a complete breakdown. “We gave her the research manual treatment for PTSD, and she got a lot better. But she was still afraid to go back to work. She was still essentially disabled.”</p> <p>Williams took a full step back to ask what was missing from the treatment that kept her patient from full recovery. “It was more than just one trauma,” she said. She found that her approach hadn’t addressed the racial component of the abuse or what it meant to her patient—and that her field generally lacked the awareness, knowledge, and skills to competently address racial trauma in a clinical setting.</p> <p>“There was nobody at the place where I worked who had any experience with that, so I had to go out on my own to figure out how to help her,” Williams said.</p> <p>She collaborated with African-American peers who had done work in this area before to better understand how to help her patient and others like her. She found that people who get post-traumatic stress disorder have usually experienced a set of traumas throughout their lives, which they navigate until they reach a tipping point.</p> <p>Looking further into her patient’s history, Williams discovered that the patient had several experiences with racial and sexual harassment in the past.</p> <p>But there is no guidebook for measuring and assessing the compounded psychological impacts of such incidents.</p> <p>Williams would like to see racial trauma recognized by the American Psychological Association as a valid route to PTSD, as well as more clinical practices and therapists trained to treat it. For example, while driving from Louisville to Tuscon, Arizona, to meet with an African-American patient on death row, Williams wondered, “How many of my students would even know what to ask him?” To this end, besides opening a handful of new clinics designed for this, Williams&nbsp;created a structured interview protocol for clinicians with questions that address the cultural experiences of African-American patients. Part of the goal is helping therapists understand and take seriously the experiences leading to racial trauma so that patients feel safe in sharing them.&nbsp;&nbsp;</p> <p>“Research shows that many African Americans may be misdiagnosed. They may have negative interactions with psychologists that negatively impact that relationship,” said Erlanger Turner, assistant professor of psychology at the University of Houston-Downtown. These experiences make it less likely that patients finish the therapy process.</p> <p>Part of Turner’s work includes establishing guidelines that, like Williams’, make sure psychologists understand the importance of cultural and racial factors that might affect the relationship with a client.&nbsp;He is talking with clinicians about the importance of integrating culturally relevant family and community values into the treatment process, how to be comfortable talking about issues related to racism, and de-emphasizing the notion of “color-blindness,” which discounts the impact a person’s race or ethnicity has on their daily life experiences.</p> <p>Recently, Turner’s work has turned to the impacts of police violence. This week, he co-led live Twitter chats with the American Psychological Association and&nbsp;<em>The Root</em>&nbsp;about how police violence has disrupted Black communities, as well as how to cope.&nbsp;<span>Smith, the anthropologist, has also focused her work on violence in Black communities and their responses to it. Her ethnography&nbsp;</span><em>Afro-Paradise: Blackness, Violence, and Performance in Brazil</em><span>&nbsp;follows grassroots movements combating anti-Black police violence in contemporary Brazil.</span></p><p>“I started working with people who were what I would term to be the survivors of police violence—the mothers, the sisters, the aunts, the community members—who are left to try to grapple and survive in the wake of these deaths,” Smith said. She found that on top of the actual deaths—mostly of Black men—community members were being traumatized beyond basic grief: They were literally dying, slowly, over time, in the aftermath of death. After the 2015 police killing of 16-year-old Roberto de Souza, his mother, Joselita de Souza, passed away from complications resulting from anemia and acute respiratory failure. Family members say she had stopped eating after her son was slain.</p><p>Roberto was unarmed and was celebrating his first paycheck. The officers involved were not indicted.&nbsp;</p><p><strong>Leaving shame behind.</strong></p><p>While watching TV one night after her hospitalization, Ikpi, the poet, turned the channel to a popular African-American show,&nbsp;<em>Girlfriends,</em><em>&nbsp;</em>in which a bipolar character was being introduced.</p><p>The depiction was off. Way off. The stereotyped symptoms felt to Ikpi like a slap in the face.&nbsp;“They had her behaving like someone with a developmental disability, saying things like ‘Let’s go swing!’ and she’d be having different conversations, like someone with dissociative disorder.” At the end of the episode, when the character confided that she might have bipolar disorder, her friends assured her that she was not “crazy.”</p><p><span>Ikpi felt a strong sense of personal responsibility to say what others in the Black community weren’t saying, using her popularity as a blogger and poet to create an open space for talking about mental illness.</span></p><p><span>Last year, Ikpi launched The Siwe Project, a nonprofit dedicated to promoting mental health awareness in the Black community. It was named in honor of a close friend’s daughter, Siwe, who committed suicide at the age of 15 after struggling with mental illness. The goal is to broaden public dialogue around the lived experiences of African Americans with mental illness.&nbsp;</span></p><p><span>On July 11, The Siwe Project ran its annual #NoShameDay, a Twitter conversation for people of color to share stories and collaborate on ways to cope with mental illness. Not surprisingly, this year’s online event was infused with the momentum of the Black Lives Matter movement.&nbsp;</span><span>Smith believes such honest, destigmatizing conversations are much needed. Black communities need a period of healing, she said, but the routes are often blocked. Social media has helped open them. It has been&nbsp;“fundamental as a base for healing.”&nbsp;</span></p><p>Still, Ikpi recently went offline for a few days during a triggering news cycle. She had to.&nbsp;<span>“This is not just a political thing,” she said. “This is an emotional, long-lasting trauma, and the effects can be felt and will be felt in all aspects of life.”</span></p><p class="image-caption">This article was first published by <a href="http://www.yesmagazine.org/peace-justice/after-the-violence-and-videos-therapists-learn-to-treat-racial-trauma-20160722?utm_source=YTW&amp;utm_medium=Email&amp;utm_campaign=20160722">YES! Magazine</a>.</p><fieldset class="fieldgroup group-sideboxs"><legend>Sideboxes</legend><div class="field field-related-stories"> <div class="field-label">Related stories:&nbsp;</div> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> <a href="/transformation/kate-stringer/we-already-know-how-to-reduce-police-racism-and-violence">We already know how to reduce police racism and violence</a> </div> <div class="field-item even"> <a href="/transformation/scot-nakagawa/for-racial-healing-we-need-to-get-real-about-racism">For racial healing, we need to get real about racism </a> </div> <div class="field-item odd"> <a href="/transformation/scot-nakagawa/blacklivesmatter-and-white-progressive-colorblindness">#Blacklivesmatter and white progressive colorblindness</a> </div> </div> </div> </fieldset> <div class="field field-rights"> <div class="field-label">Rights:&nbsp;</div> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> CC by NC 4.0 </div> </div> </div> Transformation Transformation Trauma racism Jaime Alfaro The politics of mental health Activism Care Love and Spirituality Fri, 02 Sep 2016 00:00:00 +0000 Jaime Alfaro 105074 at https://www.opendemocracy.net Jaime Alfaro https://www.opendemocracy.net/content/jaime-alfaro <div class="field field-au-term"> <div class="field-label">Author:&nbsp;</div> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> Jaime Alfaro </div> </div> </div> <p>&nbsp;</p><span>Jaime Alfaro wrote this article for&nbsp;<a href="http://www.yesmagazine.org/" target="_self">YES! Magazine</a>. Jaime is a YES! reporting intern. He writes about racial justice, education, and economics. Follow him at&nbsp;<a href="https://twitter.com/@jajamesalfaro" target="_self">@jajamesalfaro</a>.</span><p>&nbsp;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><div class="field field-au-shortbio"> <div class="field-label">One-Line Biography:&nbsp;</div> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> Jaime Alfaro wrote this article for YES! Magazine. Jaime is a YES! reporting intern. He writes about racial justice, education, and economics. Follow him at @jajamesalfaro. </div> </div> </div> Jaime Alfaro Thu, 01 Sep 2016 13:53:00 +0000 Jaime Alfaro 105075 at https://www.opendemocracy.net