“Access Denied: Reflections on Justice, Power, and Citizenship in America”
by Micki Archuleta

Table of Contents

  1. Introduction: The Promise of Citizenship
  2. On Poverty, Wealth, and Power
  3. Civic Access: Myth and Reality
  4. History, Privilege, and the American Dream
  5. MAGA, Institutions, and Who Gets Heard
  6. Democracy, Capitalism, and the Marketplace of Ideas
  7. Being Different: Identity, Exclusion, and the Price of Advocacy
  8. Why We Fight: The Struggle for Meaningful Access
  9. Reconstruction and the Law: What the Constitution Owes Us
  10. Conclusion: I Want the Whole Constitution and My Citizenship Rights

Introduction: The Promise of Citizenship

I am an American—not just a resident of North or South America, but a citizen of the United States, carrying the bloodlines of revolutionaries, Native Americans, and Spanish settlers. I was born into hardship, have walked through both poverty and privilege, and have seen both the best and worst of what this country offers.
Growing up, I was taught to believe in the promise of citizenship: that rights are inalienable, that justice is for all, that the Constitution belongs to each of us equally. But lived experience tells a different story. Who gets access? Who gets heard? Who gets justice? This book is about the gap between that promise and reality, and my refusal to let it go unchallenged.

Chapter 1: On Poverty, Wealth, and Power

Aristotle claimed poverty is the parent of revolution and crime. But I know better—born into hardship and having walked through both poverty and privilege, I’ve seen that it is wealth that so often breeds cruelty, corruption, and injustice.

Poverty is not the natural parent of violence or upheaval; instead, it is the exclusion, the locked doors, and the glass ceilings imposed by those in power that foster unrest. Wealth, shielded by privilege and impunity, too often becomes the parent of indifference, of policy violence, of the cruelty that gets excused as “just business.”

Chapter 2: Civic Access—Myth and Reality

MAGA has some fantasy that we are a constitutional republic with limited access. I have a version of reality that includes the Reconstruction Amendments and theoretical access based on citizenship.
But theoretical access is not the same as meaningful access. The sheriff gets to whisper in the president’s ear; the wealthy shape policy behind closed doors; regular people, and especially the “wrong kind” of people—queer, disabled, unhoused—are shut out. The game is rigged, the deck stacked.

All I am asking is for my rights as a citizen, and for my community to take responsibility to provide people like me meaningful access.

Chapter 3: History, Privilege, and the American Dream

I’ve watched the American Dream be repackaged and resold, mostly to those who already have the keys to the kingdom. The rest of us are told to wait our turn, keep our heads down, and accept less.

But history—Frederick Douglass, the Reconstruction Amendments, every wave of protest and progress—shows that rights are not given; they are demanded, won, and insisted upon. The so-called “American Dream” is not a gift; it is a contract, and it is long past due.

Chapter 4: MAGA, Institutions, and Who Gets Heard

So, Supervisor Josh Pedrozo, MAGA, Sheriff Vern Warnke, MAGA, Supervisor Lloyd Pareira, MAGA, versus Micki.

There is a fantasy about limited government and constitutional purity, but that fantasy never included people like me. My education, my community work, my advocacy—all of it is treated as suspect, as “too much,” as “not the right kind.” Meanwhile, those with access get to shape policy, befriend presidents, and control the narrative.

Chapter 5: Democracy, Capitalism, and the Marketplace of Ideas

Capitalism is supposed to be about trade—ideas, goods, opportunities. But what happens when the market is rigged, when capital and influence are the price of admission, when citizenship doesn’t guarantee a seat at the table?

I am not against trade. I’m not against capitalism as a tool for prosperity. But I refuse to participate in a system that expects me to amass enough capital to oppress others or gain leverage to deny others their rights.

Chapter 6: Being Different: Identity, Exclusion, and the Price of Advocacy

You can’t be a prophet in your own land. “Liberal” institutions reject me, and so do the “conservatives” in my own county. I have taught in high school and college, founded organizations, and been pushed out for being too different, too queer, too insistent that everyone deserves dignity and respect.

All I have ever asked is that my rights as a citizen—my access to justice, my right to be heard, my right to participate fully—be honored.

Chapter 7: Why We Fight: The Struggle for Meaningful Access

What is the parent of revolution and crime? Not poverty—but the exclusion that comes from wealth protecting itself, from power wielded without empathy, from the refusal to honor the Constitution in practice.

Aristotle was wrong. History, biography, and lived experience prove it. Every time I am denied a seat at the table, every time someone with more money or more access gets to decide for me, I am reminded why we fight.

Chapter 8: Reconstruction and the Law—What the Constitution Owes Us

I am not asking for special treatment. My hero, Frederick Douglass, did not sue his former master. His friends bought his freedom for him. He eventually became a citizen.

All I am asking is for my rights as a citizen, and for my community to take the responsibility to provide people like me meaningful access.
I want the whole Constitution—every amendment, every promise—enforced, not just for the privileged few, but for all of us.

Conclusion: I Want the Whole Constitution and My Citizenship Rights

I want the whole Constitution, and I want my citizenship rights. Not the fantasy version, not the paper version—the real thing, in practice. The promise of America is not complete until access, justice, and dignity are real for everyone, including me.