By Ruth Dusseault, Bay City News

The Marin County Board of Supervisors adopted a three-year pilot program that will allow cooks and food entrepreneurs to prepare and sell meals from their homes on Sept. 29

The Microenterprise Home Kitchen Operation program, or MEHKO, will establish a permitting process for small-scale home food businesses. California state law allows licenses if local governments opt in.

“This will deliver immediate financial relief to entrepreneurs in areas like Marin City, West Marin and the Canal neighborhood, removing barriers right where economic opportunity is needed the most,” said Shannon Bell, consumer protection supervisor with Marin County Environmental Health Services, at the meeting.

MEHKO licenses fill the gap between cottage food permits, which only apply to non-potentially hazardous foods like baked goods and jams, and full commercial kitchens.

Microenterprises can serve as commissaries for up to two mobile food operations; they require food to be prepared and served the same day. They are exempt from commercial facility requirements, such as industrial grease traps and commercial stove hoods.

The program allows takeout or on-site dining with strict limits of 30 meals per day, or 90 meals per week, and an annual sales cap of $100,000.

The pilot would begin March 1, 2027, and permits would be capped at 100 per year. Application fees are $725 with an annual renewal fee of $414, but fee waivers for a third of the permits are reserved for low-income communities.

After two years, supervisors will consider making the program permanent.

“By eliminating the need for commercial leases and expensive equipment, entrepreneurs can safely test their businesses and ideas with minimal financial risk,” Bell said. According to statewide data from the Cook Alliance, 85% of MEHKO operators are women, immigrants, and people of color, and over 70% rely on this income to support their families, she said.

Bell also said unpermitted sales are already happening in areas like the Canal.

Local Vendors Seek a Legal Path

Marina Palma advocates for San Rafael’s Canal neighborhood, which is home to a vulnerable community of over 13,000 low-income residents. About 84% are Latino and roughly half of all households spend more than 50% of their income on housing.

Palma told the board that the pandemic caused many Canal residents to lose their jobs, and that’s why the neighborhood has so many vendors selling food in public. Because they have no license, enforcement actions can be harsh.

“They have really high tickets of $600, and their food has been thrown away,” said Palma.

She said MEHKO would help vendors get an official license, but she questions whether vendors will need a Social Security number and be legally in the country.

According to the home-chef’s national nonprofit Cook Alliance, MEHKO applicants need no proof of citizenship nor a Social Security number to obtain a permit.

“I’m from Mexico, and I’m one of the mobile vendors,” said Elsie Vega through a Spanish translator. “I have two jobs. Everything is pricey — house, food, everything. I am here to work hard, to pay taxes. I don’t make enough money to pay the community kitchens.”

MEHKO license holders must pass inspection under the oversight of the Marin County Department of Environmental Health Services and comply with local zoning, parking and noise ordinances.

California authorized MEHKO programs in 2019. Seventeen counties have since adopted them, including Sonoma, San Mateo, Solano, Contra Costa, Alameda and Santa Clara counties.

Other commenters who spoke in favor of the program represented a range of food system and small business organizations. They included the Agricultural Institute of Marin, which operates nine Bay Area farmers markets, the University of California Cooperative Extension, the Cook Alliance, the West Marin Food Systems Group, which coordinates farm-to-school food access, and the Marin Small Business Development Center.

By Post Staff

In the AC Transit Ward 3 election, AC Transit’s labor organizations have recently expressed their endorsement for Director Joel Young, recognizing his longstanding commitment to public transportation, workforce investment, and the employees who keep AC Transit moving every day.

Those unions include the Amalgamated Transit Union Local 192, the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers Local 1245, and the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees Local 3916.

ATU Local 192 Vice President Nathaniel Arnold stated “our support reflects confidence in Young’s leadership and experience as the longest-serving member of AC Transit’s current Board of Directors. His experience is particularly important as AC Transit confronts serious fiscal challenges while working to preserve and strengthen service.

“At a time when difficult decisions lie ahead, Young brings institutional knowledge, longstanding relationships, and a demonstrated commitment to public transportation.

“Since joining the board in 2009, Young has served in key leadership roles, including president and vice president, helping guide AC Transit through periods of growth, innovation, and change.

During his tenure, he helped AC Transit secure more than $600 million in funding to support critical transportation investments. Young has also helped advance workforce development initiatives, support transit technology improvements, expand AC Transit’s zero-emission bus fleet, and strengthen the District’s national presence on transportation policy issues.

His leadership has extended beyond the Bay Area.

Young has represented AC Transit on the national stage, including participation in the White House Roundtable on Clean Bus Manufacturing, where transit leaders and policymakers discussed the future of clean transportation and domestic manufacturing.

By Richmond Standard Staff

West County residents can receive locally grown produce through Urban Tilth’s Farm to Table Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) program, with home delivery and pickup options available.

Contra Costa County Supervisor John Gioia highlighted the program in his newsletter, pointing out that his district office in El Cerrito serves as a pickup location.

Weekly or bi-weekly subscriptions include seasonal greens, vegetables, fruits and herbs. Produce comes from Urban Tilth’s North Richmond Farm and farms within 200 miles of Richmond, including small family farms and those owned by BIPOC, women and LGBTQIA+ growers.

Subscriptions also support hands-on job training for local youth and volunteer opportunities.

The standard price is $50 per week, which Urban Tilth says reflects the true cost of fresh, sustainably sourced, locally grown produce. A subsidized “Food for All” price of $15 per week is available for individuals and families with extremely limited financial resources. Both options provide the same produce and service.

Gioia’s office is located at 11780 San Pablo Ave., Suite D, in El Cerrito. To sign up or learn more about pickup and delivery options, visit urbantilth.org/heal/csa.

For generations, the Black church has passed the offering plate to keep the lights on, pay the preacher, help the poor and carry the Gospel beyond its walls. But what happens when the preacher leaves the sanctuary, takes a popular Christian podcast on tour — and charges admission?

That question has placed Pastor Philip Anthony Mitchell, founder and lead pastor of Atlanta’s fast-growing 2819 CHURCH, at the center of a heated social media debate.

Mitchell and Tim Timberlake, senior pastor of Celebration Church in Jacksonville, Florida, host “Street Preachers,” which its official website describes as a “raw, unfiltered podcast” committed to spreading the Gospel.

‘A brood of vipers’

The controversy began after ticket prices for the podcast’s 2026 tour circulated online. General admission tickets reportedly cost about $60 before fees, with premium options, including a VIP meet-and-greet package, priced at $200. Critics questioned whether ministers should charge people to hear the Gospel.

Others defended the pastors, arguing that Christian events require venues, transportation, security, equipment and staff.

Mitchell answered critics from the pulpit last month, calling them “a brood of vipers.” He said the podcast is a separate, personal project and that neither his church nor Timberlake’s is bankrolling it.

“Now we have decided to go on a tour to take the gospel to cities, and because that’s not funded by 2819, and it’s not funded by Celebration Church, Tim and I gotta do that with our own pockets,” Mitchell said. “It’s why there is tickets. We have to pay for venues and security and productions and staff from our own pockets.”

Mitchell called some critics “ignorant” and said they did not know that a child was healed through faith during one of the events.

“And you want to complain about a 60 ticket?” he said. “So hate on!”

Worship service vs. media event

Mitchell maintains that “Street Preachers” is an independently produced podcast tour, not a worship service, and that ticket revenue helps cover production costs.

Yet the presence of pastors, Scripture and Gospel language makes the distinction less clear to some believers.

The official tour website lists all eight 2026 stops as sold out. Promotional material announcing additional dates promised, “Better ticket options. Same Gospel. Same move of God.”

Corporate prayer gathering

The language gets to the heart of the dispute. Some Christians argue that no one should be kept outside because they cannot afford a ticket. Others say the Gospel remains free even when people pay for the venue and experience surrounding its presentation.

The paid podcast tour, however, is not Mitchell’s only large-scale gathering. On Oct. 10, 2819 CHURCH will host “ACCESS — That Powerful Hour of Prayer” at AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas. Admission is free.

2819 CHURCH has said 80,000 free tickets were claimed before registration reopened.

The contrast raises another question: What makes one Gospel-centered event a ministry supported by donors and another a production supported by customers?

Unfiltered preaching, youth appeal

Mitchell’s congregation, composed largely of young Black adults, grew from fewer than 200 weekly worshippers in 2023 to about 6,000, according to the church. Some worshippers arrive before sunrise to secure a place inside.

His appeal rests partly in an intense, vulnerable and raw preaching style.

“I’m preaching without watering that down, without filtering out things that we think might be too controversial,” Mitchell told The Associated Press.

That visibility has also brought scrutiny of his theology, associations, travel, security and the businesses surrounding his ministry.

But the controversy reaches beyond Mitchell and Timberlake. Christian music concerts charge admission. Seminaries charge tuition. Religious publishers sell Bibles, books and devotionals. Churches pay musicians, media teams and guest preachers. Money becomes particularly uncomfortable, however, when an event is presented simultaneously as ministry and entertainment.

Ministry vs. entertainment

Supporters should not assume every dollar collected becomes personal profit. Critics, however, question whether lower-cost seats, sponsored tickets or free admission for people who cannot pay should be part of a Gospel-centered event.

The Black church always has required resources for ministry. It also has carried a sacred responsibility to make room for people with little or nothing to give.

The sold-out “Street Preachers” tour shows people are willing to pay to attend. The free ACCESS gathering offers a different model. The challenge is preserving that open door as Christian ministry increasingly adopts the machinery — and economics — of popular entertainment.

The post Should you have to pay to hear the Gospel? appeared first on St. Louis American.

Based on reporting by St. Louis American.

Oakland’s public conversation about health care must begin with a simple truth: a doctor’s appointment is not the same thing as access to care.

For a mother juggling work and child care, access may mean a text-message reminder, a bus pass, an evening appointment, or someone who can explain what Medi-Cal covers. For an older patient managing diabetes, it may mean help scheduling a specialist visit and understanding new medications. For a family that has been dismissed or misunderstood in medical settings, access may begin with meeting a community health worker who knows the neighborhood, speaks their language, and treats their concerns with respect.

Community health clinics make that kind of care possible. They are part medical provider, part navigator, part educator, and part trusted local institution. Proposition 44 threatens to narrow the definition of what counts as patient care in a way that could undermine the very supports that allow patients to receive it.

The statewide measure would require covered nonprofit community clinics to spend at least 90 percent of their annual revenue on health care or qualifying program services. The ballot measure directs the Attorney General to establish more detailed guidance on what expenses qualify. Clinics that do not meet the threshold could face penalties for the difference. The Legislative Analyst’s Office reports that affected clinics currently spend an average of about 80 percent of revenue on health care services.

A percentage may look like a clean measure of accountability. But health care is not cleanly divided between what happens inside an examination room and everything that enables a patient to enter one.

Consider the work that happens before and after a visit. Clinic staff maintain confidential patient records. They follow up after missed appointments. They keep information systems secure. They recruit and train employees in an expensive and competitive health care labor market. They coordinate referrals, process claims, purchase supplies, maintain buildings, and make certain that patients are not lost somewhere between diagnosis and treatment.

Oakland families should not be asked to accept the fiction that these functions are unrelated to care.

The danger in Proposition 44 is not only its 90 percent figure. It is that the meaning of “qualifying” spending will be worked out later. A clinic preparing a budget today may not know whether a navigator, health educator, transportation program, outreach worker, technology upgrade, or other patient-support service will be counted the way it expects. Yet the financial consequence of getting it wrong could be immediate.

The Legislative Analyst’s Office says clinics falling short of the requirement could be required to pay the shortfall amount to the state and could seek to recover the money only if they show compliance within five years. The same analysis estimates state enforcement costs in the low tens of millions of dollars annually, supported by fees.

That is a troubling arrangement for organizations that are expected to provide care to people with the fewest alternatives.

Oakland has learned that trust is not built through slogans. It is built when a patient is listened to, when a parent can secure an appointment for a child, when a clinic returns a call, and when a person receives help without being shamed for their income, insurance, language, immigration history, or prior experience with the system.

For Black residents in particular, trustworthy care is not an abstract goal. Persistent inequities in health outcomes and patient treatment are real. Community-centered clinics can help bridge the gap with culturally responsive staff, patient navigators, behavioral-health programs, and partnerships that understand the conditions shaping health outside the clinic door.

Proposition 44 could pressure providers to treat those supports as expendable because they do not fit neatly into a state-enforced formula. That would be a mistake.

Accountability is necessary. Clinics that receive public resources should be transparent, well governed, and focused on their mission. But good oversight asks whether patients are being served well, whether money is managed responsibly, and whether communities can obtain needed care. It should not rely on a rigid ratio that may punish clinics for doing the hard work of reaching people who need more than a brief medical encounter.

A broad coalition of providers and community organizations opposes Proposition 44, including the California Primary Care Association, the California Medical Association, the California Hospital Association, Planned Parenthood Affiliates of California, and the California Teachers Association.

Oakland needs health policy that expands the circle of care. Proposition 44 risks drawing that circle smaller.

The Oakland Post editorial board urges a No vote on Proposition 44.

By Paul Cobb, Publisher, Oakland Post

I understand the frustration driving Proposition 40. I share our labor partners’ concerns about protecting health care and essential services at a time when working families are already under enormous pressure.

But labor itself is divided over Proposition 40, and there is good reason to look carefully at what this measure could mean beyond the money it promises to raise.

Proposition 40 would impose a one-time 5 percent tax on the wealth of Californians with more than $1 billion in assets. Most of that money would go toward health care, with the remainder supporting food assistance and education-related programs.

Those are worthy investments. The question is whether this is the right way to pay for them.

California’s independent Legislative Analyst says the measure could raise tens of billions of dollars in the short term. But that same analysis warns that California could eventually lose hundreds of millions of dollars a year in ongoing income-tax revenue if some wealthy taxpayers leave the state or change their financial behavior.

That matters because those dollars help support the General Fund and the broader system of programs and services Californians rely on.

So let’s be clear: This is not about feeling sorry for billionaires. Billionaires will be fine.

This is about protecting the people who will not be fine if we get the policy wrong.

For decades, those of us in Black media have watched public policy debates move from crisis to crisis. We have also watched Black communities deal with the consequences when decisions made in Sacramento or Washington did not fully consider what would happen two, three, or four moves later.

We know what happens when funding disappears. Community organizations struggle. Small businesses lose support. Programs serving young people are squeezed. Schools and local governments are asked to do more with less. The people with the fewest resources are usually the first to feel the consequences.

That history should make us cautious about making major changes to California’s tax system without considering the entire board.

If California believes billionaires should contribute more, then let’s have that conversation. There is nothing unreasonable about asking whether people who have benefited enormously from California’s economy should contribute more to sustaining it.

But we should build tax policy that is thoughtful, sustainable, and difficult to avoid. We should not create a temporary solution that could leave us confronting another revenue problem down the road.

This is also why I respect those in labor who support Proposition 40, even though I have reached a different conclusion. They are responding to very real concerns about health care and the people who depend on it. Those concerns should not be dismissed.

But neither should legitimate questions about Proposition 40.

Too often our politics tells us that if we agree with the goal, we must agree with the proposed solution. That is not how responsible public policy works.

You can believe health care must be protected and still question the mechanism being proposed to protect it.

You can believe billionaires should pay more and still ask whether this particular tax is the smartest way to accomplish that.

And you can stand with working people while insisting that California consider the long-term consequences for all of the public programs working people depend upon.

We need to stop treating complicated economic decisions like a game of checkers, where we look only at the move directly in front of us.

We need to play chess.

Look at the whole board. Think several moves ahead. Understand what happens after the first check is collected and spent.

The question before Californians is not whether billionaires can afford to pay more. They can.

The question is whether Proposition 40 is the right way to do it and whether we are confident enough in the consequences to make this kind of change.

Our communities cannot afford for us to discover the answer too late.