Section 14, located in the heart of Palm Springs, was a vital residential area for Black and Latino communities from the early 1900s to the mid-20th century. As Palm Springs grew into a tourist haven, Section 14 became one of the few places where non-white residents could live due to segregationist policies. This land, owned by the Agua Caliente Band of Cahuilla Indians, became a haven for working-class families who helped build the city's infrastructure. Despite its central location, Section 14 was excluded from the city's glamorous image, and its residents were subjected to substandard living conditions, ultimately leading to a brutal campaign of forced evictions and demolitions in the 1950s and 60s, erasing much of its community and history.
Category: Capitalism
The Forgotten Legacy of Joice Heth: How a Slave Fueled Barnum’s Fame
P.T. Barnum’s rise to fame is an emblematic reflection of the deeply entrenched inequalities of 19th-century America. Barnum, known as the “Great American Showman,” capitalized on the public’s thirst for spectacle and curiosity, transforming the entertainment landscape with his audacious displays of oddities and curiosities. He is often remembered for founding what became “The Greatest...
The Photograph that Changed Nike
Jacobus "Co" Rentmeester’s 1984 photograph of a young Michael Jordan soaring through the air became both a masterpiece and a source of personal conflict. Originally commissioned by Life magazine, Rentmeester’s image—a fusion of athleticism and art—inspired Nike’s now-legendary Jumpman logo. As Nike’s empire rose on the back of this silhouette, Rentmeester quietly wrestled with the blurred lines between inspiration and appropriation. His eventual legal battle for recognition underscored a deeper story about creative integrity and the fragile balance between artistic vision and corporate power.
Methadone Madness: America Chose Addiction Over Compassion
Every morning, in towns and cities across the United States, lines begin to form at methadone clinics well before the sun fully rises. People with opioid use disorder shuffle in for their daily dose of a medication that, while intended to save their lives, has become a lightning rod for criticism and controversy. Somewhere behind these quiet scenes, corporate balance sheets bulge, government funds flow, and the question lingers: Is America truly seeking to help those caught in the devastating grip of opioid addiction—or has the nation’s healthcare system prioritized profit over compassion? The answer, many argue, is that a cycle of dependence has been painstakingly preserved, even as the death toll from opioid-related overdoses climbs year after year. This is a story of misguided priorities, misplaced funds, and the glaring gap between what could be done to alleviate a crisis and what is actually happening.
How Excited Delirium Became a Cover for Police Violence
In the annals of modern policing, there’s a term that flares up in the headlines when a routine arrest turns fatal, when bodycam footage sparks protests, or when another Black or brown body ends up lifeless on the asphalt. That term is excited delirium—a medical-sounding phrase with a murky past and a troubling present, one that has become a catch-all explanation for deaths that occur under aggressive police restraint.