Dawn got the Most Improved Student award at Big Picture yesterday! Whoo-hoo! Of course, then she promptly lost the certificate. I think her mom told me she found it balled up on the floor and put it in a book to iron it out. She was annoyed--she was all set to hang it up on the wall and be proud of her daughter, but it needs a bit of repair first.
Meanwhile, Dawn's dad's company made headlines again yesterday and not for good reason. There was a fire at the factory that injured six people, including two firefighters. At least one of the six was in critical condition last night. It is possible that hazardous chemicals were involved, so I'm worried about how long it will take them to clean up and get the place working again. I don't suppose Julian, Sr. will be getting paid in the meantime.
Fr. Bruce from Holy Cross was on Channel 2 today talking about plans for the new high school in our neighborhood. The mayor has announced he's pulling money out of city TIF funds (I'll explain them another day) to build 15 new schools, including our long-awaited high school. The papers said the site will be at 35th and California, which isn't even in Back of the Yards, but apparently Fr. Bruce says the site is still not set.
Last I heard, they were talking about putting the building on the vacant lots by 51st and Ashland. Stay tuned--we may get our high school yet.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Two Storms in One House
Friends of mine called last night to inquire about the weather, since Hurricane Alberto was on its way. Of course, the latest from Reuters downgraded to a mere tropical storm:
http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/N13374198.htm
Just like my living arrangements.
The big weather news last night was that Alberto and Camille were in my house at the same time, and so was I. I don't think all three of us have been in the house at the same time in a while, maybe not since Memorial Day weekend.
Camille made dinner last night--shrimp in garlic sauce over rice, plus a salad of greens, tomato, avocado and mozzarella. "What restaurant are you working at?" I asked. "I'll be there for dinner very soon!" She "auditioned" for a restaurant gig at a new place on North Avenue. If she gets it for sure I will send all of you there.
While we were inside, Julian and a buddy of his were playing soccer out in the yard. Camille started at the thumps and bumps. "It's just the kids," I said. "No worries." They watched my bike for me and stayed out there long enough to remember I'd forgotten to put it in the basement. That's how the last one got stolen. Glad they were there this time.
http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/N13374198.htm
Just like my living arrangements.
The big weather news last night was that Alberto and Camille were in my house at the same time, and so was I. I don't think all three of us have been in the house at the same time in a while, maybe not since Memorial Day weekend.
Camille made dinner last night--shrimp in garlic sauce over rice, plus a salad of greens, tomato, avocado and mozzarella. "What restaurant are you working at?" I asked. "I'll be there for dinner very soon!" She "auditioned" for a restaurant gig at a new place on North Avenue. If she gets it for sure I will send all of you there.
While we were inside, Julian and a buddy of his were playing soccer out in the yard. Camille started at the thumps and bumps. "It's just the kids," I said. "No worries." They watched my bike for me and stayed out there long enough to remember I'd forgotten to put it in the basement. That's how the last one got stolen. Glad they were there this time.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Dawn's final exhibition this year
Dawn did her final exhibition for the year on Thursday morning. I came out the door and found her dad and her uncle talking to Camille, my houseguest--they had a job tip for her. I asked Dawn's dad if he was going to the exhibition and he said yes, but he was waiting for his wife. I went over without them.
Good thing--I had lost track of time and Dawn had already started. I got there and she was already getting into her report on the light bulb. She really got into that project, without much help from me. We got together on Memorial Day when she and Gladys were revising their research papers, but that was it. Dawn did a research paper, put together a booklet of drawings she did of various stages of the light bulb's development, and did a quantitative project analyzing her family's electric bill and what the charges were for.
Her presentation had fewer bells and whistles this time--she didn't have Power Point, for example--but she really did the work on her own. Her advisor said she had noticed Dawn buckling down in class and independent work time to get projects done on time, which was a change from previous quarters. I can vouch for the fact I did not come in on a white horse this quarter to pull her grade out of the fire.
Julian's presentation is Tuesday. I wonder if I can go. I'd like to but work is kicking my butt.
Good thing--I had lost track of time and Dawn had already started. I got there and she was already getting into her report on the light bulb. She really got into that project, without much help from me. We got together on Memorial Day when she and Gladys were revising their research papers, but that was it. Dawn did a research paper, put together a booklet of drawings she did of various stages of the light bulb's development, and did a quantitative project analyzing her family's electric bill and what the charges were for.
Her presentation had fewer bells and whistles this time--she didn't have Power Point, for example--but she really did the work on her own. Her advisor said she had noticed Dawn buckling down in class and independent work time to get projects done on time, which was a change from previous quarters. I can vouch for the fact I did not come in on a white horse this quarter to pull her grade out of the fire.
Julian's presentation is Tuesday. I wonder if I can go. I'd like to but work is kicking my butt.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Long time no post
Sorry it's been so long! And there's so much to say....
Weather Report: Tropical Storm Alberto, a/k/a my roommate, delivered a surprise last month. A friend of his is relocating here from Washington, DC. She's been staying in the house since May 19 or so. For lack of a better naming scheme, let's call her Camille, more because I think the name is pretty than because of the destruction that particular hurricane wreaked, as shown here:
http://www.geocities.com/hurricanene/hurricanecamille.htm
In case you're wondering, Alberto and Camille are just friends, people. She's staying in the guest room. And her arrival forced Alberto to bring his girlfriend over for dinner a couple of nights. Now we know where he's been all that time!
Birthday party: Alberto and Camille were instrumental in helping me throw a birthday bash over Memorial Day weekend. Others deserving of major shout-outs for their help include Dawn's mom, dad and brother, and the LSC lady from Chavez who is also big in CAPS. She and Dawn's dad took over the grill. Dawn's mom made rice. Her big brother cut the lawn. And a big thanks to Su Casa for the loan of chairs, a table and the lawnmower!
We broke out the good tequila friends brought back for me from Guadalajara. On my weak stomach, it takes a village to drink a bottle of the stuff, so I'm glad real aficionados got to enjoy most of it. I just had a small taste.
The kids had a big water fight out front. My front lawn is still recovering.
Recent travels: I went to New Orleans for a conference last weekend. New Orleans is still in post-Katrina gridlock. It was shocking to see how little rebuilding has happened yet. The t-shirts said it all: "FEMA: Fix Everything My Ass;" "FEMA Evacuation Plan: Run M-F, Run"
"Meet the Fockers:" with pictures of Ray Nagin, Kathleen Blanco, Michael Brown (the FEMA guy). From what we heard at the conference, it sounds like they could have done that shirt with reps from the state and the New Orleans school board on them, too.
I did get Alberto a graduation present that wasn't any of those t-shirts. I went to a fun jazz benefit party last Saturday night at Donna's in the 7th Ward, and found a great t-shirt put out by a very Catholic Workerish group called Common Ground. They got their start last fall when a former Black Panther and New Orleans resident starting working to get doctors back in the city. Now they're doing all kinds of stuff, and they have really cool t-shirts, too:
http://www.commongroundrelief.org/
Back to neighborhood news in the next post!
Weather Report: Tropical Storm Alberto, a/k/a my roommate, delivered a surprise last month. A friend of his is relocating here from Washington, DC. She's been staying in the house since May 19 or so. For lack of a better naming scheme, let's call her Camille, more because I think the name is pretty than because of the destruction that particular hurricane wreaked, as shown here:
http://www.geocities.com/hurricanene/hurricanecamille.htm
In case you're wondering, Alberto and Camille are just friends, people. She's staying in the guest room. And her arrival forced Alberto to bring his girlfriend over for dinner a couple of nights. Now we know where he's been all that time!
Birthday party: Alberto and Camille were instrumental in helping me throw a birthday bash over Memorial Day weekend. Others deserving of major shout-outs for their help include Dawn's mom, dad and brother, and the LSC lady from Chavez who is also big in CAPS. She and Dawn's dad took over the grill. Dawn's mom made rice. Her big brother cut the lawn. And a big thanks to Su Casa for the loan of chairs, a table and the lawnmower!
We broke out the good tequila friends brought back for me from Guadalajara. On my weak stomach, it takes a village to drink a bottle of the stuff, so I'm glad real aficionados got to enjoy most of it. I just had a small taste.
The kids had a big water fight out front. My front lawn is still recovering.
Recent travels: I went to New Orleans for a conference last weekend. New Orleans is still in post-Katrina gridlock. It was shocking to see how little rebuilding has happened yet. The t-shirts said it all: "FEMA: Fix Everything My Ass;" "FEMA Evacuation Plan: Run M-F, Run"
"Meet the Fockers:" with pictures of Ray Nagin, Kathleen Blanco, Michael Brown (the FEMA guy). From what we heard at the conference, it sounds like they could have done that shirt with reps from the state and the New Orleans school board on them, too.
I did get Alberto a graduation present that wasn't any of those t-shirts. I went to a fun jazz benefit party last Saturday night at Donna's in the 7th Ward, and found a great t-shirt put out by a very Catholic Workerish group called Common Ground. They got their start last fall when a former Black Panther and New Orleans resident starting working to get doctors back in the city. Now they're doing all kinds of stuff, and they have really cool t-shirts, too:
http://www.commongroundrelief.org/
Back to neighborhood news in the next post!
Friday, May 19, 2006
Big Picture Meeting
About 75 people attended a meeting at Big Picture last night to discuss the board's plan for the school. I think a number of the most vocal people there were parents of current 8th-graders who planned to attend Big Picture. Principal Alfredo Nambo says district officials have decided the school will not be allowed to take in 9th-graders next fall, but all the current students in grades 9,10, and 11 will be allowed to stay. I think that means through graduation, but I'm not sure. At first I thought only the 11th graders would be able to stay, but last night Alfredo assured everyone that all the current students will be staying on and not have to transfer. That's a big relief.
Alfredo says the school has decided not to fight the board's decision about stopping the flow of incoming freshmen, and instead staff will concentrate their efforts on making sure all the current students are succeeding. I can't argue with that, given what I'm seeing from Julian and Dawn. Julian is not succeeding, though he told me last night he's a lot more on top of his work this quarter than he has been in the past, and I'm glad to hear that. With about a 2.5 GPA, Dawn is doing OK but not great, and she needs to do great to have a shot at real success in college. I'm also disappointed that neither of them will be participating in an organized summer program. I know how hard it is to get kids to do that, but there are students going to Colorado, Montana, and other places and I was really hoping Dawn and/or Julian would be among them. Many factors are responsible for that, including their own lack of initative and my lack of being on top of them about getting it done, but I do wish the school was also more on top of them about applications. I was really hoping Dawn would do the Lincoln Park Zoo internship but we missed the application deadline and neither her advisor nor the LTI coordinator were on top of it. (I grant the LTI person was very new in the job at that point.)
The other Big Picture is in exactly the same boat. I think CPS is having a really hard time accepting how this model of education works when its own internal thrust is largely about test scores. While I can see that the execution of the model here needs work, if CPS had its eye on the most important indicators--dropout/graduation rate and college readiness--I think it would be a lot easier to find a meeting of minds. I also can't argue that it's not expensive. It is.
I also wish I could do more directly to be of help.
Alfredo says the school has decided not to fight the board's decision about stopping the flow of incoming freshmen, and instead staff will concentrate their efforts on making sure all the current students are succeeding. I can't argue with that, given what I'm seeing from Julian and Dawn. Julian is not succeeding, though he told me last night he's a lot more on top of his work this quarter than he has been in the past, and I'm glad to hear that. With about a 2.5 GPA, Dawn is doing OK but not great, and she needs to do great to have a shot at real success in college. I'm also disappointed that neither of them will be participating in an organized summer program. I know how hard it is to get kids to do that, but there are students going to Colorado, Montana, and other places and I was really hoping Dawn and/or Julian would be among them. Many factors are responsible for that, including their own lack of initative and my lack of being on top of them about getting it done, but I do wish the school was also more on top of them about applications. I was really hoping Dawn would do the Lincoln Park Zoo internship but we missed the application deadline and neither her advisor nor the LTI coordinator were on top of it. (I grant the LTI person was very new in the job at that point.)
The other Big Picture is in exactly the same boat. I think CPS is having a really hard time accepting how this model of education works when its own internal thrust is largely about test scores. While I can see that the execution of the model here needs work, if CPS had its eye on the most important indicators--dropout/graduation rate and college readiness--I think it would be a lot easier to find a meeting of minds. I also can't argue that it's not expensive. It is.
I also wish I could do more directly to be of help.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
More Bad News
I got home from my trip Tuesday night. As usual, something always happens right when I get home that smacks me in the face to say. "Welcome back to the hood, b---h."
On Tuesday it was the cops stopping Julian and Chava four times in five minutes. Apparently someone was spotted with a gun on the south end of the block, and the boys had the misfortune of taking 51st to walk to the store. There were cop cars all over our block around 8:30.
I was at Dawn's house watching TV with her and her mom. Dawn saw the cars and went outside. "Ama! Donde esta Julian?" she called. Her mom flipped, not surprisingly. We all went out and she took the cell phone.
We could see them coming up the block, grinning sheepishly. Fortunately, they survived three pickups and pat-downs with no confrontations. The fourth one came while we were all standing in front of the house. A police car drove down the block the wrong way, flashing that outside searchlight thing into the yard.
"I hate that light," Chava muttered. (He's seen it all too often, I'm sure.)
The cops started driving away, slowly, then backed up and told the guys to come to the car. They patted them down and another car pulled up. I remember that one had two blonde female officers.
The boys were very polite. Everything was very low-key. The cops were not confrontational; they were very professional. But I have to say I was more than a little annoyed.
However, I was very polite. "These boys live here, officers," I said. "He lives here. This is his friend."
"Oh," said a cop. They wrapped up the pat-down quickly and left. White privilege at its finest--if you've got it, share it, I always say. :-)
Chava earned points for manners later on, it must be noted. "Thanks for trying to help us with the 5-0," he said.
Last night Julian and his mom got in a shouting match. He wanted to go out; his mom wanted him to stay in and do homework and not put himself at risk of getting picked up by cops. THey fought mostly in Spanish. Julian tried to enlist my aid by repeating himself in English, "It's five weeks til the end of the semester, right?"
"Yes," I said evenly, "but you need to be doing the work now." He stopped talking to me.
Teenage boys are just hard. I wish I knew how to help, but I really don't.
On Tuesday it was the cops stopping Julian and Chava four times in five minutes. Apparently someone was spotted with a gun on the south end of the block, and the boys had the misfortune of taking 51st to walk to the store. There were cop cars all over our block around 8:30.
I was at Dawn's house watching TV with her and her mom. Dawn saw the cars and went outside. "Ama! Donde esta Julian?" she called. Her mom flipped, not surprisingly. We all went out and she took the cell phone.
We could see them coming up the block, grinning sheepishly. Fortunately, they survived three pickups and pat-downs with no confrontations. The fourth one came while we were all standing in front of the house. A police car drove down the block the wrong way, flashing that outside searchlight thing into the yard.
"I hate that light," Chava muttered. (He's seen it all too often, I'm sure.)
The cops started driving away, slowly, then backed up and told the guys to come to the car. They patted them down and another car pulled up. I remember that one had two blonde female officers.
The boys were very polite. Everything was very low-key. The cops were not confrontational; they were very professional. But I have to say I was more than a little annoyed.
However, I was very polite. "These boys live here, officers," I said. "He lives here. This is his friend."
"Oh," said a cop. They wrapped up the pat-down quickly and left. White privilege at its finest--if you've got it, share it, I always say. :-)
Chava earned points for manners later on, it must be noted. "Thanks for trying to help us with the 5-0," he said.
Last night Julian and his mom got in a shouting match. He wanted to go out; his mom wanted him to stay in and do homework and not put himself at risk of getting picked up by cops. THey fought mostly in Spanish. Julian tried to enlist my aid by repeating himself in English, "It's five weeks til the end of the semester, right?"
"Yes," I said evenly, "but you need to be doing the work now." He stopped talking to me.
Teenage boys are just hard. I wish I knew how to help, but I really don't.
Really Bad News
The Big Picture High School in Back of the Yards is being threatened with closure. The Board of Education has told the school not to accept new freshmen for next fall. I'm told the current juniors will be able to stay and graduate in June of 07, but there's no word yet about what happens to the sophomores and freshmen, including Dawn and Julian.
My friend Mike Klonsky went ballistic over this on his blog, sparing me from having to do it here. Here's the link:
http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-6z6IhP08cqXp9kfshYQPv87gCfJyFg--
There's a meeting tonight at 6 at the school for parents and community to strategize.
I will tell you all that at the Neighborhood Housing Services board meeting last night I did not hear resounding support for saving Big Picture. The Peace and Education Coalition is focused on getting a new high school building in the neighborhood with enough space to serve a lot of kids, and frankly Big Picture has not been involved in the Coalition, so it hasn't won their backing. They've never been to a meeting, I've been told.
What I heard was a lot of griping--they don't serve many kids, how many of them are from the neighborhood anyway? (the first class had a lot from Little Village, which I think left a bad taste in some people's mouths) all the schools here need help, we need a real high school in here, etc. etc.
I tried to be sympathetic (and we do need a real high school, that will serve more kids--but it needs to be done right or it won't serve them well), but finally I told everyone in that room straight out: "My concern here is for the 80 kids in that building right now, especially for the two of them who live next door to me. If the school closes, what happens to them?"
One person said: "They'll transfer." Yes, probably to Richards, one of the worst high schools in the city. Great.
Another person said, more thoughtfully, "Probably if they have to transfer, a lot of them will drop out." Bingo.
I think I'm gearing up to pay tuition for Dawn to go to Our Lady of Tepeyac in Little Village. I don't know what to do about Julian. Frankly, I'm tempted to tell him to just goof around at Richards until he can drop out and go to Second Chance, where he might get some education. Ouch.
My friend Mike Klonsky went ballistic over this on his blog, sparing me from having to do it here. Here's the link:
http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-6z6IhP08cqXp9kfshYQPv87gCfJyFg--
There's a meeting tonight at 6 at the school for parents and community to strategize.
I will tell you all that at the Neighborhood Housing Services board meeting last night I did not hear resounding support for saving Big Picture. The Peace and Education Coalition is focused on getting a new high school building in the neighborhood with enough space to serve a lot of kids, and frankly Big Picture has not been involved in the Coalition, so it hasn't won their backing. They've never been to a meeting, I've been told.
What I heard was a lot of griping--they don't serve many kids, how many of them are from the neighborhood anyway? (the first class had a lot from Little Village, which I think left a bad taste in some people's mouths) all the schools here need help, we need a real high school in here, etc. etc.
I tried to be sympathetic (and we do need a real high school, that will serve more kids--but it needs to be done right or it won't serve them well), but finally I told everyone in that room straight out: "My concern here is for the 80 kids in that building right now, especially for the two of them who live next door to me. If the school closes, what happens to them?"
One person said: "They'll transfer." Yes, probably to Richards, one of the worst high schools in the city. Great.
Another person said, more thoughtfully, "Probably if they have to transfer, a lot of them will drop out." Bingo.
I think I'm gearing up to pay tuition for Dawn to go to Our Lady of Tepeyac in Little Village. I don't know what to do about Julian. Frankly, I'm tempted to tell him to just goof around at Richards until he can drop out and go to Second Chance, where he might get some education. Ouch.
Thursday, May 11, 2006
DC Dispatch
This morning at the Senate's Dirksen building, the 8th-grade class from San Miguel School had coffee with Senators Dick Durbin and Barack Obama. I know because I was there.
I'm in DC for my sister's wedding, but had time this morning to go to the Illinois senators' weekly constituent coffee. When I walked in the door, I spotted one of the San Miguel teachers immediately. So funny! Last week a friend of mine told me there is a phrase for "small world" in Spanish which literally translates, "the world is a handkerchief."
There were at least five different school groups there, and one student from each group got to ask a question. One of the girls from San Miguel asked: "What will the final version of the immigration bill that comes out of the Senate look like?"
Dick Durbin took the question and said that it will have provisions for border enforcement, a path to citizenship (but a long and an arduous one, that not everybody will be able to complete), and that the version right now includes the DREAM Act, which would open opportunites for legal status for young people who finish high school, pass a criminal background check, and go to college or serve in the military.
Durbin also took a moment to talk up San Miguel. "I know that school. It's an excellent school in Back of the Yards. You are all lucky to be there." No foolin'. San Miguel in the house!! (Excuse me, make that San Miguel in the Senate!)
I'm in DC for my sister's wedding, but had time this morning to go to the Illinois senators' weekly constituent coffee. When I walked in the door, I spotted one of the San Miguel teachers immediately. So funny! Last week a friend of mine told me there is a phrase for "small world" in Spanish which literally translates, "the world is a handkerchief."
There were at least five different school groups there, and one student from each group got to ask a question. One of the girls from San Miguel asked: "What will the final version of the immigration bill that comes out of the Senate look like?"
Dick Durbin took the question and said that it will have provisions for border enforcement, a path to citizenship (but a long and an arduous one, that not everybody will be able to complete), and that the version right now includes the DREAM Act, which would open opportunites for legal status for young people who finish high school, pass a criminal background check, and go to college or serve in the military.
Durbin also took a moment to talk up San Miguel. "I know that school. It's an excellent school in Back of the Yards. You are all lucky to be there." No foolin'. San Miguel in the house!! (Excuse me, make that San Miguel in the Senate!)
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Lawn Care Follies
Who knew lawn care had racial politics? (Well, anyone who watched the movie "A Day without a Mexican," but these racial politics didn't make it into that movie.)
Here's the politics of lawn care in my 'hood, racial or otherwise: I hired Junior's dad to do my lawn. As I suspected, I didn't understand the full implications of what I had done because I don't speak Spanish well enough to understand what I got into. So I found out tonight that I hired him for the season to take care of getting my yard and garden together.
But I didn't know I had done this on Sunday, when Mr. Worrisome and his brother showed up with a bunch of rolls of sod and tried to sell me some. They actually succeeded in selling me a few rolls.
"How much?" I asked Mr. W.
"A dollar seventy-five," he said.
"So, three for seven?" I said. (I was just ballparking and I knew it was a low-ball estimate.)
Mr. W's math isn't that great, or he just wanted to unload them. "Sure."
Later, Julian told me I could have gotten them for a dollar apiece from his uncle or cousin or something.
"I'm gonna marry you in two years," Mr. Worrisome informed me, once I had agreed to buy his sod. "We're going to Paris. You speak French?"
"Jai oubliee tout le francais," I told him. "That means, 'I forgot all the French.'"
"Guess I won't marry you, then," he said.
(Whew! I thought. That was easy.)
Mr Worrisome was all pissy about the fact he had tried to sell his crappy-ass, dried-out, yellow-grassed sod to Dawn's family, but they said no. "They have a relative who's in the business," I told him. It sort of shut him up.
Anyway, I spent seven bucks and they gave me four or five rolls, I think (more than I was expecting). We laid them on the bare spot in the front yard. "I'd rather just put down seed," I thought to myself.
"Some water and fertilizer, and they'll be green in no time," said Mr. W. Fat chance, I thought to myself.
So last night around midnight I was out in the yard and Julian and his mom were out. Julian wanted to know why I bought that crappy sod, so I explained as best I could, in Spanish for his and his mom's benefit. They informed me that they heard Mr. W is the child molester in that house. (Remember I said there was a sex offender in that house? I think it's not him, though--I think it's his even creepier brother or cousin or something.) Anyway, they got it that I was basically buying my way out of hassle from Mr. W.
However, tonight I had to explain the whole thing over again to Junior's parents. Rosa came over with Junior and Fernando to tell me that her husband had put out seed in the front yard and the sod on top of it would ruin it. So that's how I found out I have full-service lawn care for the entire season.
I had been hoping for a reason to get rid of that sod, so once Rosa gave it to me, I was ready to go. "Well, I'll throw it out then," I said, gesturing to show taking the sod to the garbage. I started rolling it up and spotted some earthworms on the backside, so I stopped and pulled one off and threw it back in my own grass. Rosa was so grossed out she had to turn her back and walk out of the yard! We were all laughing, even Daya's grandmother, a very serious-looking Mexican lady.
Marisol saved the sod from certain death. She was out with Daya and with her in-laws, who are here for the first time ever from a little town outside Guanajuato. Fernando, Danny and Oscar wanted to help move the sod. So between all of us (mostly me and Marisol) we got it over to her yard and rolled it out. Then her father-in-law got out the hose and started soaking it down. He looked like he was happy to have a project.
So now the sod has a home, my seed will sprout, and Mr. Worrisome got paid. A happy ending all around. Who says we can't all just get along?
Here's the politics of lawn care in my 'hood, racial or otherwise: I hired Junior's dad to do my lawn. As I suspected, I didn't understand the full implications of what I had done because I don't speak Spanish well enough to understand what I got into. So I found out tonight that I hired him for the season to take care of getting my yard and garden together.
But I didn't know I had done this on Sunday, when Mr. Worrisome and his brother showed up with a bunch of rolls of sod and tried to sell me some. They actually succeeded in selling me a few rolls.
"How much?" I asked Mr. W.
"A dollar seventy-five," he said.
"So, three for seven?" I said. (I was just ballparking and I knew it was a low-ball estimate.)
Mr. W's math isn't that great, or he just wanted to unload them. "Sure."
Later, Julian told me I could have gotten them for a dollar apiece from his uncle or cousin or something.
"I'm gonna marry you in two years," Mr. Worrisome informed me, once I had agreed to buy his sod. "We're going to Paris. You speak French?"
"Jai oubliee tout le francais," I told him. "That means, 'I forgot all the French.'"
"Guess I won't marry you, then," he said.
(Whew! I thought. That was easy.)
Mr Worrisome was all pissy about the fact he had tried to sell his crappy-ass, dried-out, yellow-grassed sod to Dawn's family, but they said no. "They have a relative who's in the business," I told him. It sort of shut him up.
Anyway, I spent seven bucks and they gave me four or five rolls, I think (more than I was expecting). We laid them on the bare spot in the front yard. "I'd rather just put down seed," I thought to myself.
"Some water and fertilizer, and they'll be green in no time," said Mr. W. Fat chance, I thought to myself.
So last night around midnight I was out in the yard and Julian and his mom were out. Julian wanted to know why I bought that crappy sod, so I explained as best I could, in Spanish for his and his mom's benefit. They informed me that they heard Mr. W is the child molester in that house. (Remember I said there was a sex offender in that house? I think it's not him, though--I think it's his even creepier brother or cousin or something.) Anyway, they got it that I was basically buying my way out of hassle from Mr. W.
However, tonight I had to explain the whole thing over again to Junior's parents. Rosa came over with Junior and Fernando to tell me that her husband had put out seed in the front yard and the sod on top of it would ruin it. So that's how I found out I have full-service lawn care for the entire season.
I had been hoping for a reason to get rid of that sod, so once Rosa gave it to me, I was ready to go. "Well, I'll throw it out then," I said, gesturing to show taking the sod to the garbage. I started rolling it up and spotted some earthworms on the backside, so I stopped and pulled one off and threw it back in my own grass. Rosa was so grossed out she had to turn her back and walk out of the yard! We were all laughing, even Daya's grandmother, a very serious-looking Mexican lady.
Marisol saved the sod from certain death. She was out with Daya and with her in-laws, who are here for the first time ever from a little town outside Guanajuato. Fernando, Danny and Oscar wanted to help move the sod. So between all of us (mostly me and Marisol) we got it over to her yard and rolled it out. Then her father-in-law got out the hose and started soaking it down. He looked like he was happy to have a project.
So now the sod has a home, my seed will sprout, and Mr. Worrisome got paid. A happy ending all around. Who says we can't all just get along?
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Tech troubles
OK, guys, I don't know why the main content is publishing so far down the page, and I've tried a few things to fix it that haven't worked (fiddled with settings, tried republishing the blog changing something from floating to fixed). Anway, if any tech geeks or fellow Bloggers have better ideas for me, I'm open.
Junior Reads!
Last night, for once, I got home early enough to hang out with Junior and Oscar. I got home about quarter of eight--so nice that it was still light out and had stopped raining and being cloudy! I invted them over, thenswigged down some OJ and ate some cold black beans with salt straight out of the Tupperware so I wouldn't starve while kicking around a soccer ball.
Fernando didn't have the best luck getting friends to come along. He tried Daniel but either he didn't want to or his mom wouldn't let him because it was late. Then he tried to get the boys down the block to come play but they weren't home. "Aren't they at Gage Park tonight?" I asked, having seen them play on Joey's team in the Park District league.
"Oh, yeah!" said Fernando.
"Why don't you play on that team?" I asked him. He said he used to play, but they lost a lot so he stopped.
Fernando had a lot of great questions for me last night, but we kept getting distracted so I never even really tried to answer them. "Why do the black people hate Mexicans? They want us to go back to Mexico. Even white people say that a lot of times," he observed.
I got as far as "some people are afraid that Mexican people who come to this country will take away jobs for people who are born here, or will work for less money than somebody born here would make," and then..
Oscar said, "I'm thirsty!"
And I said, "Want some orange juice?"
And he said, "Yeah!" and we went back in the house. I'll have to try again with Fernando some other time, maybe when his little brother isn't interrupting.
Oscar wanted to draw, so I got out some paper and my nice pastels. Fernando found my copy of Shel Silverstein's "A Light in the Attic."
"I know that book," he said. "Can I read it?"
"Sure," I replied. "Let's read it together."
So we read the poem about General Gore and General Clay who almost went to the beach instead of fighting their war, but bailed on the beach trip and killed each other instead. Fernando likes that one. He can read it pretty well. We did partner reading for fluency and he didn't even know.
Then I gave a dramatic reading of my favorite poem in there, "Sarah Cynthia Silvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out." Oscar laughed at it, too.
Fernando wanted to borrow the book, so I loaned it to him. I'm going to get him "A Light in the Attic" for his birthday, which is next week, so we'll each have one in our respective houses.
Rosa came and got them around 8:30 because they had to take baths before bed and before school tomorrow.
Fernando didn't have the best luck getting friends to come along. He tried Daniel but either he didn't want to or his mom wouldn't let him because it was late. Then he tried to get the boys down the block to come play but they weren't home. "Aren't they at Gage Park tonight?" I asked, having seen them play on Joey's team in the Park District league.
"Oh, yeah!" said Fernando.
"Why don't you play on that team?" I asked him. He said he used to play, but they lost a lot so he stopped.
Fernando had a lot of great questions for me last night, but we kept getting distracted so I never even really tried to answer them. "Why do the black people hate Mexicans? They want us to go back to Mexico. Even white people say that a lot of times," he observed.
I got as far as "some people are afraid that Mexican people who come to this country will take away jobs for people who are born here, or will work for less money than somebody born here would make," and then..
Oscar said, "I'm thirsty!"
And I said, "Want some orange juice?"
And he said, "Yeah!" and we went back in the house. I'll have to try again with Fernando some other time, maybe when his little brother isn't interrupting.
Oscar wanted to draw, so I got out some paper and my nice pastels. Fernando found my copy of Shel Silverstein's "A Light in the Attic."
"I know that book," he said. "Can I read it?"
"Sure," I replied. "Let's read it together."
So we read the poem about General Gore and General Clay who almost went to the beach instead of fighting their war, but bailed on the beach trip and killed each other instead. Fernando likes that one. He can read it pretty well. We did partner reading for fluency and he didn't even know.
Then I gave a dramatic reading of my favorite poem in there, "Sarah Cynthia Silvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out." Oscar laughed at it, too.
Fernando wanted to borrow the book, so I loaned it to him. I'm going to get him "A Light in the Attic" for his birthday, which is next week, so we'll each have one in our respective houses.
Rosa came and got them around 8:30 because they had to take baths before bed and before school tomorrow.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
CAPS & Research Link
I just found a link to the UIC study on immigration and its economic effects in Chicago:
http://www.uic.edu/cuppa/uicued/npublications/recent/undocimmigrants.htm
By the way, in unrelated news--last night's CAPS meeting was attended by three people. No drama there. I heard there was a non-fatal shooting last Thursday night and the police recovered the van from which the shots were fired. The sergeant tells me they are pretty sure who did it, but because it was gang-related the victim will not be wiling to testify so they are just waiting for the next wave of retaliations before they can arrest anyone. Nasty.
http://www.uic.edu/cuppa/uicued/npublications/recent/undocimmigrants.htm
By the way, in unrelated news--last night's CAPS meeting was attended by three people. No drama there. I heard there was a non-fatal shooting last Thursday night and the police recovered the van from which the shots were fired. The sergeant tells me they are pretty sure who did it, but because it was gang-related the victim will not be wiling to testify so they are just waiting for the next wave of retaliations before they can arrest anyone. Nasty.
What to Do
OK, guys, not to turn this into a political blog, but after reading a lot of uninformed or badly informed posts at Gaper's Block and the Chicago Tribune (Eric Zorn's blog and comments), I have found exactly one post that gets at the real issue with immigration. It's from someone with the handle kds:
>Everyday, I work with individuals who are in the process of immigrating to this country legally. >It is an expensive and time consuming process, with artificial quotas that make it extremely >difficult for individuals from certain countries to be able to work here or gain permanent >residency through legitimate channels. I think the only way we can stem illegal immigration, is >to increase the availability of legitimate immigration into this country. Create laws that more >readily allow workers from Latin America (and the rest of the world) to enter the U.S. to work >and then strictly enforce deportation laws against those who are here illegally.
I would add that in the Mexican case we exacerbate the immediate problem by promoting free trade through NAFTA which has had the short-term effect of destroying local agriculture, leaving small farmers broke. (Think the 80s farm crisis here when people were shooting themselves. Then imagine living somewhere where you can't get a job at McDonald's or the gas station because there isn't one.) My economist friend who is smarter than I am says it will take 50 years for Latin America to develop economies strong enough to discourage economic migration. So what will we do in the meantime?
The net economic gain or loss from illegal immigrants to this country is hotly disputed. Someone on Gaper's Block pointed to the Center for Immigration Studies www.cis.org, which describes itself as "pro-immigrant, low-immigration vision which seeks fewer immigrants but a warmer welcome for those admitted." Apparently their stats say that illegal immigration is an economic loss for the country, but they count children of illegal immigrants, who are U.S. citizens, as part of the cost, which I think is at least debatable.
Last night on TV I saw UIC expert Nik Theodore quoted as saying his research indicates illegal immigrants are a net gain for the state of Illinois. Many people complain about illegals who don't pay taxes, but more do than I think is commonly acknowledged, frankly because many are working using fake Social Security cards, which means they pay into the system and take out nothing. (Not that I think using a fake SSN is so great, but that's what happens when it is done.) What is also well known is that illegal immigrants are much less likely then U.S. citizens of similar income to use social services like Medicaid, food stamps, etc. The one place where I would agree they are a cost is on medical services for the uninsured, but since we can't seem to insure 44 million people in this country, if 12 million of them are all the illegal immigrants we've got, I think there's a bigger problem than immigration at work on access to medical care.
For an on the ground perspective, there is no question in my mind that illegal immigrants are a net asset in my neighborhood. Most of the people standing on the corner selling drugs, pimping and prostituting themselves publicly on my block are U.S. citizens. Most of the people who keep their kids in the house and work jobs are not. (There are exceptions on both sides, but I'm calling it like I see it here.) And I'll save my post about what's going on with the U.S. citizens in my hood for another day.
Anyway, I'm spouting today, but here's my take in a nutshell. The U.S. has a big red tape problem with what legal immigration is and how to do it. The problem is, as often has been true in the past, we have country quotas that don't correspond to where the demand to get here is coming from. And because the high demand is from people with darker skins, we don't want to change the quotas, except maybe when they hold a master's degree in computer science,but I think we don't even have enough H-1 visas to satisfy the demand for highly-skilled workers, right? Anyway, we do a fine job of creating economic conditions around the globe that make it much more difficult for people to earn a good living in their home countries, then we act all pissy when they want to come here and make a better life for their children, just as people have been doing in this country for two hundred years and more. That doesn't seem fair to me.
I see nothing wrong with the McCain-Kennedy plan to give people who have been here for years a way to legalize themselves. They go to the end of the line to get a green card, they don't butt in front of people who made it through the red tape maze legally, they learn English, they pay a fine. Who among us has not paid a speeding or a parking ticket in their lifetime? Let that person cast the first stone about illegal immigration.
And I really support the DREAM Act, which would make it possible for illegal immigrants who arrived here as children, like Dawn, Joey, Danny, Junior, Oscar, Julian, probably Chava, and most of the kids you've read about on this blog, to get financial aid to go to college and to apply for legal status once they've completed two years. If we don't do something to make it possible for young kids who were brought here from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador and other countries to make a life for themselves in the U.S., we're creating a generation of gangbangers with no future. We're wasting a ton of intellectual potential. And don't talk to me about deporting them. They grew up here. As one other smart poster somewhere said this morning, "They're more American than any immigrant will ever be."
>Everyday, I work with individuals who are in the process of immigrating to this country legally. >It is an expensive and time consuming process, with artificial quotas that make it extremely >difficult for individuals from certain countries to be able to work here or gain permanent >residency through legitimate channels. I think the only way we can stem illegal immigration, is >to increase the availability of legitimate immigration into this country. Create laws that more >readily allow workers from Latin America (and the rest of the world) to enter the U.S. to work >and then strictly enforce deportation laws against those who are here illegally.
I would add that in the Mexican case we exacerbate the immediate problem by promoting free trade through NAFTA which has had the short-term effect of destroying local agriculture, leaving small farmers broke. (Think the 80s farm crisis here when people were shooting themselves. Then imagine living somewhere where you can't get a job at McDonald's or the gas station because there isn't one.) My economist friend who is smarter than I am says it will take 50 years for Latin America to develop economies strong enough to discourage economic migration. So what will we do in the meantime?
The net economic gain or loss from illegal immigrants to this country is hotly disputed. Someone on Gaper's Block pointed to the Center for Immigration Studies www.cis.org, which describes itself as "pro-immigrant, low-immigration vision which seeks fewer immigrants but a warmer welcome for those admitted." Apparently their stats say that illegal immigration is an economic loss for the country, but they count children of illegal immigrants, who are U.S. citizens, as part of the cost, which I think is at least debatable.
Last night on TV I saw UIC expert Nik Theodore quoted as saying his research indicates illegal immigrants are a net gain for the state of Illinois. Many people complain about illegals who don't pay taxes, but more do than I think is commonly acknowledged, frankly because many are working using fake Social Security cards, which means they pay into the system and take out nothing. (Not that I think using a fake SSN is so great, but that's what happens when it is done.) What is also well known is that illegal immigrants are much less likely then U.S. citizens of similar income to use social services like Medicaid, food stamps, etc. The one place where I would agree they are a cost is on medical services for the uninsured, but since we can't seem to insure 44 million people in this country, if 12 million of them are all the illegal immigrants we've got, I think there's a bigger problem than immigration at work on access to medical care.
For an on the ground perspective, there is no question in my mind that illegal immigrants are a net asset in my neighborhood. Most of the people standing on the corner selling drugs, pimping and prostituting themselves publicly on my block are U.S. citizens. Most of the people who keep their kids in the house and work jobs are not. (There are exceptions on both sides, but I'm calling it like I see it here.) And I'll save my post about what's going on with the U.S. citizens in my hood for another day.
Anyway, I'm spouting today, but here's my take in a nutshell. The U.S. has a big red tape problem with what legal immigration is and how to do it. The problem is, as often has been true in the past, we have country quotas that don't correspond to where the demand to get here is coming from. And because the high demand is from people with darker skins, we don't want to change the quotas, except maybe when they hold a master's degree in computer science,but I think we don't even have enough H-1 visas to satisfy the demand for highly-skilled workers, right? Anyway, we do a fine job of creating economic conditions around the globe that make it much more difficult for people to earn a good living in their home countries, then we act all pissy when they want to come here and make a better life for their children, just as people have been doing in this country for two hundred years and more. That doesn't seem fair to me.
I see nothing wrong with the McCain-Kennedy plan to give people who have been here for years a way to legalize themselves. They go to the end of the line to get a green card, they don't butt in front of people who made it through the red tape maze legally, they learn English, they pay a fine. Who among us has not paid a speeding or a parking ticket in their lifetime? Let that person cast the first stone about illegal immigration.
And I really support the DREAM Act, which would make it possible for illegal immigrants who arrived here as children, like Dawn, Joey, Danny, Junior, Oscar, Julian, probably Chava, and most of the kids you've read about on this blog, to get financial aid to go to college and to apply for legal status once they've completed two years. If we don't do something to make it possible for young kids who were brought here from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador and other countries to make a life for themselves in the U.S., we're creating a generation of gangbangers with no future. We're wasting a ton of intellectual potential. And don't talk to me about deporting them. They grew up here. As one other smart poster somewhere said this morning, "They're more American than any immigrant will ever be."
Monday, May 01, 2006
La Segunda Marcha
Around 12:30 this afternoon, a bunch of us here at my office were staring out the window, craning our necks northward to Jackson Boulevard, where the street was blocked off and a motorcade of unmarked police cars was leading today's march for immigrant rights. The crowd was still coming, three hours later.
If that wasn't half a million people, I'll eat my sombrero.
I took my lunch hour to go out and see the crowd. There was a large contingent of organized Muslims, with placards saying "Unite Families" on one side and "Muslims Support the American Dream" on the other. I also spotted Korean drummers, Irish and Polish contingents carrying flags, a couple of my Catholic Worker pals on bicycles, Fr. Bruce and Sister Angie from Holy Cross, and some friends with kids at Pierce Elementary on the North Side, where 150 kids and parents took off. (And that is a pretty muticultural school.)
Last night I was walking down 47th Street and saw lots of signs in the windows announcing stores would be closed today to honor the marchers and their efforts. When I got home, Julian and Chava were out on the front porch next door. They said they were going today. I was so sad to see so many friends but not run into my neighbors. Well, even my luck running into people at demonstrations could run out in a crowd of half a million.
Some more sights: t-shirts with an Uncle Sam-style fist and finger pointing, but words that said: "Hey, Pilgrim! Who you calling illegal!"
A Mexican-American guy taking pictures with his cell phone at the corner of Jackson and Michigan. "Since this whole thing came up, I've been taking some crap at work, but I just tell the guys, 'I'm a Buckeye from Ohio, born and bred,'" he told me. He was surprised I knew enough Spanish to explain "Si se puede" to another bystander.
People chanting the "USA! USA!" cheer. It's the first time ever I've been psyched about cheering "USA" --usually those folks are morons at football games or something.
A few signs saying: "The giant wasn't sleeping, the giant was working," in both English and Spanish.
If that wasn't half a million people, I'll eat my sombrero.
I took my lunch hour to go out and see the crowd. There was a large contingent of organized Muslims, with placards saying "Unite Families" on one side and "Muslims Support the American Dream" on the other. I also spotted Korean drummers, Irish and Polish contingents carrying flags, a couple of my Catholic Worker pals on bicycles, Fr. Bruce and Sister Angie from Holy Cross, and some friends with kids at Pierce Elementary on the North Side, where 150 kids and parents took off. (And that is a pretty muticultural school.)
Last night I was walking down 47th Street and saw lots of signs in the windows announcing stores would be closed today to honor the marchers and their efforts. When I got home, Julian and Chava were out on the front porch next door. They said they were going today. I was so sad to see so many friends but not run into my neighbors. Well, even my luck running into people at demonstrations could run out in a crowd of half a million.
Some more sights: t-shirts with an Uncle Sam-style fist and finger pointing, but words that said: "Hey, Pilgrim! Who you calling illegal!"
A Mexican-American guy taking pictures with his cell phone at the corner of Jackson and Michigan. "Since this whole thing came up, I've been taking some crap at work, but I just tell the guys, 'I'm a Buckeye from Ohio, born and bred,'" he told me. He was surprised I knew enough Spanish to explain "Si se puede" to another bystander.
People chanting the "USA! USA!" cheer. It's the first time ever I've been psyched about cheering "USA" --usually those folks are morons at football games or something.
A few signs saying: "The giant wasn't sleeping, the giant was working," in both English and Spanish.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Cops
Two cop incidents last night:
I was walking down Marshfield after the NHS board meeting and saw a couple of cop cars sitting north of the viaduct. Our sergeant was out of his car, parked on 48th, and was standing talking to an officer in his car, parked on Marshfield.
I went by and said hello, thinking, "How nice to see a cop I know out on the beat and not harassing anybody."
About 90 minutes later, around 8:30, Dawn called me and asked if she could come over. I went out and opened the front gate. It turned out Julian and his buddy Chava had been stopped by the cops just a few minutes earlier. There was a report of a shooting on Paulina, I think--we weren't sure--and the cops went out stopping every young man within a few blocks of the incident. They made a mess out of Julian's bike--knocked the tire and tube off his back wheel and we don't know why. At least they didn't rough up the boys or take them to jail.
Which reminds me--Tony stopped by Sunday night while we were eating hamburgers, and told me he had been picked up by cops and held for 72 hours because he doesn't have any ID. They can hold someone that long while checking their fingerprints to see if they have any outstanding warrants. He didn't. He says the last thing on him was the order of protection, which expired a year ago and which his "baby mama" (for lack of a better description) did not renew.
I was walking down Marshfield after the NHS board meeting and saw a couple of cop cars sitting north of the viaduct. Our sergeant was out of his car, parked on 48th, and was standing talking to an officer in his car, parked on Marshfield.
I went by and said hello, thinking, "How nice to see a cop I know out on the beat and not harassing anybody."
About 90 minutes later, around 8:30, Dawn called me and asked if she could come over. I went out and opened the front gate. It turned out Julian and his buddy Chava had been stopped by the cops just a few minutes earlier. There was a report of a shooting on Paulina, I think--we weren't sure--and the cops went out stopping every young man within a few blocks of the incident. They made a mess out of Julian's bike--knocked the tire and tube off his back wheel and we don't know why. At least they didn't rough up the boys or take them to jail.
Which reminds me--Tony stopped by Sunday night while we were eating hamburgers, and told me he had been picked up by cops and held for 72 hours because he doesn't have any ID. They can hold someone that long while checking their fingerprints to see if they have any outstanding warrants. He didn't. He says the last thing on him was the order of protection, which expired a year ago and which his "baby mama" (for lack of a better description) did not renew.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Burgers & Back Yard
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a back yard. About ten days ago, Fernando and Rosa and their boys showed up on my doorstep--I think it was Thursday night before last--and announced, "We're doing your yard this weekend."
"OK," I said. "I'm going out of town, but you go for it."
We went out back, and I explained that we needed to take out the big rocks, level the ground and roll sod. Sr. asked if I wanted to leave a couple of strips open to garden in and I said yes. So we left open the area where I planted sunflowers last year and a strip alongside the house to the north, where I'll plant sunflowers this year. I'm also getting containers from a friend so I can grow vegetables this summer in lead-free soil.
So I went away for Easter weekend, and when I got back Monday night my yard was level but the sod hadn't been rolled. It went down last Tuesday night. We've been watering like crazy ever since. Dawn and her brother and his friend Chava have been pitching in when I worked late and was too tired to do it myself. I did water Saturday morning and saw three guys staring at me from across the street. I kept wondering if they thought it was weird to see me water my own grass, or if they thought it was too late in the morning (around 11) or if they were just bored and I was their entertainment. Oh, well.
By Sunday night Fernando Sr. said it was OK for people to walk on the grass. So I let Joey and School Lady and her daughters come over. I made hamburgers (on the stove, not the grill--I was too tired to drag the grill out of the cellar), and Joey and the girls played soccer and chased each other around on the grass. Joey rolled around on it a little--I think maybe Sophie did too--the other girls probably thought they were too old and would look unladylike.
I think School Lady has finally decided I'm OK. We're still on a usted basis--though I forget and call her tu (informal you--it's a big deal among Mexicans when they tell you 'call me tu,' which she hasn't done yet. But I mostly talk with people who say call me tu, and I'm an estadounidensa/United Statesian, so I forget the formal distinction a lot). But at the end of the hamburger/lawn party, she came up and touched my elbow and told me if I need help putting my birthday party together to let her know.
The yard feels great--it's so nice to be able to walk around back there and not worry about breaking an ankle in a hole or tripping on a rock! And walking on new sod is like stepping on plush carpet--so fun to run around on. I haven't had time to lie down in the grass in my backyard, but I'm looking forward to doing it before it gets matted down or dries out. Whoopee!
"OK," I said. "I'm going out of town, but you go for it."
We went out back, and I explained that we needed to take out the big rocks, level the ground and roll sod. Sr. asked if I wanted to leave a couple of strips open to garden in and I said yes. So we left open the area where I planted sunflowers last year and a strip alongside the house to the north, where I'll plant sunflowers this year. I'm also getting containers from a friend so I can grow vegetables this summer in lead-free soil.
So I went away for Easter weekend, and when I got back Monday night my yard was level but the sod hadn't been rolled. It went down last Tuesday night. We've been watering like crazy ever since. Dawn and her brother and his friend Chava have been pitching in when I worked late and was too tired to do it myself. I did water Saturday morning and saw three guys staring at me from across the street. I kept wondering if they thought it was weird to see me water my own grass, or if they thought it was too late in the morning (around 11) or if they were just bored and I was their entertainment. Oh, well.
By Sunday night Fernando Sr. said it was OK for people to walk on the grass. So I let Joey and School Lady and her daughters come over. I made hamburgers (on the stove, not the grill--I was too tired to drag the grill out of the cellar), and Joey and the girls played soccer and chased each other around on the grass. Joey rolled around on it a little--I think maybe Sophie did too--the other girls probably thought they were too old and would look unladylike.
I think School Lady has finally decided I'm OK. We're still on a usted basis--though I forget and call her tu (informal you--it's a big deal among Mexicans when they tell you 'call me tu,' which she hasn't done yet. But I mostly talk with people who say call me tu, and I'm an estadounidensa/United Statesian, so I forget the formal distinction a lot). But at the end of the hamburger/lawn party, she came up and touched my elbow and told me if I need help putting my birthday party together to let her know.
The yard feels great--it's so nice to be able to walk around back there and not worry about breaking an ankle in a hole or tripping on a rock! And walking on new sod is like stepping on plush carpet--so fun to run around on. I haven't had time to lie down in the grass in my backyard, but I'm looking forward to doing it before it gets matted down or dries out. Whoopee!
Friday, April 21, 2006
Report Cards
Last night I got home about 9 p.m. and hadn't eaten dinner. Marisol and Daya were on the step next door and said hi. I said hi and went in the house. I had barely washed my hands and was about to eat a piece of gefilte fish straight out of the jar from starvation when the doorbell rang.
I figured it was one of the Tonys looking for a thinly disguised handout, and I was mad. The bell rang again. "Hold on!" I shouted grumpily.
But when I got to the door, it was Marisol, holding a styrofoam plate with two tacos on it. "Oh wow, Marisol, that's so nice!" I said. "I'm so hungry--I haven't had dinner yet. Thank you!"
I think I must have scared her with the initial shout, because she just said good night and vanished immediately. I was so happy not to have to fix dinner I broke into Alberto's brand-new six-pack of ale and took a beer out with me on the step for dinner. (Alberto has apparently swigged most of a large bottle of rum left over from my Christmas party, so I feel pretty justified in swiping a brewski.)
Anyway, they waved from next door but went in to bed pretty soon afterwards. Meanwhile, Dawn and Joey came by while I was still eating. We started talking about report cards and Joey went home to get their and their big brother Julian's.
Let's start with the good news. Dawn's GPA looks like it's about a 2.5 or a little higher. She only has a D in algebra, and she had a C in something else, and the rest were Bs with one A. However, given that the Consortium on Chicago School Research released a report yesterday that says a kid in CPS needs a 3.0 to have any real hope of going to college and making it through, we've got work to do.
The bad news is Julian is not looking like a candidate to beat the stats. Only about 3 percent of the African American and Latino boys who start high school in CPS ever make it to their college diplomas. And an older Consortium study indicates kids who flunk more than two core courses in their first semester are very likely to drop out of high school. Julian had three core Fs and five Fs overall. I knew it would be bad but I didn't think it would be that bad.
Julian and I hung out watering the lawn at 10:30 last night, talking about his grades and what he might be able to do to make up at least some of the work before summer, among other things. He's a nice boy, not sullen or hard, and not stupid-he got a C in algebra without trying-but getting him to do schoolwork is like pulling teeth. He says the after school study period they've forced him to attend is helping him make up some of his first semester work.
Meanwhile, Joey's grades have slipped, too. I don't have the time and energy to do the work all three of them need. We have to get Joey into a more responsive school and that is 18 months away at the soonest.
I figured it was one of the Tonys looking for a thinly disguised handout, and I was mad. The bell rang again. "Hold on!" I shouted grumpily.
But when I got to the door, it was Marisol, holding a styrofoam plate with two tacos on it. "Oh wow, Marisol, that's so nice!" I said. "I'm so hungry--I haven't had dinner yet. Thank you!"
I think I must have scared her with the initial shout, because she just said good night and vanished immediately. I was so happy not to have to fix dinner I broke into Alberto's brand-new six-pack of ale and took a beer out with me on the step for dinner. (Alberto has apparently swigged most of a large bottle of rum left over from my Christmas party, so I feel pretty justified in swiping a brewski.)
Anyway, they waved from next door but went in to bed pretty soon afterwards. Meanwhile, Dawn and Joey came by while I was still eating. We started talking about report cards and Joey went home to get their and their big brother Julian's.
Let's start with the good news. Dawn's GPA looks like it's about a 2.5 or a little higher. She only has a D in algebra, and she had a C in something else, and the rest were Bs with one A. However, given that the Consortium on Chicago School Research released a report yesterday that says a kid in CPS needs a 3.0 to have any real hope of going to college and making it through, we've got work to do.
The bad news is Julian is not looking like a candidate to beat the stats. Only about 3 percent of the African American and Latino boys who start high school in CPS ever make it to their college diplomas. And an older Consortium study indicates kids who flunk more than two core courses in their first semester are very likely to drop out of high school. Julian had three core Fs and five Fs overall. I knew it would be bad but I didn't think it would be that bad.
Julian and I hung out watering the lawn at 10:30 last night, talking about his grades and what he might be able to do to make up at least some of the work before summer, among other things. He's a nice boy, not sullen or hard, and not stupid-he got a C in algebra without trying-but getting him to do schoolwork is like pulling teeth. He says the after school study period they've forced him to attend is helping him make up some of his first semester work.
Meanwhile, Joey's grades have slipped, too. I don't have the time and energy to do the work all three of them need. We have to get Joey into a more responsive school and that is 18 months away at the soonest.
LSC Election Results
I rode my bike to work this morning, and rode up to the front window at Chavez, where the LSC election results were posted. I did vote in that election, but I missed the high school election at Richards yesterday.
The candidates at Chavez were roughly divided into two slates. The incumbents basically beat out the challengers, including School Lady and her friend who calls me "maestra" on the street.
From talking with people on both sides, I gathered that the challengers weren't too happy with the guy who has been selected to succeed retiring principal Sandy Traback. A big concern, they say, is that he isn't tough enough on discipline. (I'm guessing his youthful appearance might be part of the issue--I remember when I taught desperately wishing I looked older in hopes that would give me a little edge.) Meanwhile, the incumbents and school administration perceived the challengers as just a bunch of nay-sayers who don't really understand the issues invovled in running a school.
To tell you the truth, I split my ticket and voted in favor of two incumbents and two challengers, mostly on the basis of how much I liked them personally. However, as is often the case, the people have spoken in favor of the status quo. Let's hope that was a good thing.
The candidates at Chavez were roughly divided into two slates. The incumbents basically beat out the challengers, including School Lady and her friend who calls me "maestra" on the street.
From talking with people on both sides, I gathered that the challengers weren't too happy with the guy who has been selected to succeed retiring principal Sandy Traback. A big concern, they say, is that he isn't tough enough on discipline. (I'm guessing his youthful appearance might be part of the issue--I remember when I taught desperately wishing I looked older in hopes that would give me a little edge.) Meanwhile, the incumbents and school administration perceived the challengers as just a bunch of nay-sayers who don't really understand the issues invovled in running a school.
To tell you the truth, I split my ticket and voted in favor of two incumbents and two challengers, mostly on the basis of how much I liked them personally. However, as is often the case, the people have spoken in favor of the status quo. Let's hope that was a good thing.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Spring Break Party
My neighbors to the south had a party on Monday night to celebrate spring break and the first really warm night of 2006. I got home around 9 and there were lots of little kids swarming around in the front yard next door and a few grownups settled around the card table with the remains of dinner on it.
"Sorry. We ate already," Herman from the second floor told me. I was sorry to miss the food but I wasn't hungry.
While we were chatting, Tony from Logan Square came by. "You're hard to find," he told me.
"Looking for work?" I asked.
"Looking for my girlfriend," he teased me. But he was willing to settle for a job. He cleaned out my backyard and along the sidewalk.
Alicia and Santiago on the first floor have a passel of kids--I can't always remember how many they have, let alone all their names. There are at least four, maybe even five or six. But little Luis remembers me and so does his big sister. It's bugging me that I can't remember her name. They took me out back to play catch. Luis's big brother (whose name I also forgot) wanted to sing songs for me. He learned a song about English vowels in school that was very good. I should make him teach me it.
His sister taught me a sing and clap game in Spanish and I taught her "Miss Mary Mack" in English. Of course I have totally forgotten the Spanish one. She'll have to play it with me about a hundred times before it sticks.
Then Big Sister wanted to read stories. She went in the house and found a book of stories in Spanish and English. I wondered if it was from school or if Alicia got it somewhere. We read "La Oruga Muy Hambriente" together. That's "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" for those of you who have read it in English. Big Sister and I took turns reading every other page. She is a very good reader in both Spanish and English.
The grownups were pretty surprised that I could read Spanish. (I can read and pronounce it decently but frankly I don't always know what I'm saying. With "La Oruga," though, I did, between the pictures and my vague memories of reading it in English as a kid.) I heard a couple of them saying, "hey, she's pretty good!"
The funniest part was when Santiago came up to me and asked me in Spanish, "How come you talk to me in English if you know Spanish?" I answered in Spansih, "Because you always talk to me in English. If you talk to me in English, I'll talk English to you. If you talk to me in Spanish, I'll talk Spanish." We laughed.
"Sorry. We ate already," Herman from the second floor told me. I was sorry to miss the food but I wasn't hungry.
While we were chatting, Tony from Logan Square came by. "You're hard to find," he told me.
"Looking for work?" I asked.
"Looking for my girlfriend," he teased me. But he was willing to settle for a job. He cleaned out my backyard and along the sidewalk.
Alicia and Santiago on the first floor have a passel of kids--I can't always remember how many they have, let alone all their names. There are at least four, maybe even five or six. But little Luis remembers me and so does his big sister. It's bugging me that I can't remember her name. They took me out back to play catch. Luis's big brother (whose name I also forgot) wanted to sing songs for me. He learned a song about English vowels in school that was very good. I should make him teach me it.
His sister taught me a sing and clap game in Spanish and I taught her "Miss Mary Mack" in English. Of course I have totally forgotten the Spanish one. She'll have to play it with me about a hundred times before it sticks.
Then Big Sister wanted to read stories. She went in the house and found a book of stories in Spanish and English. I wondered if it was from school or if Alicia got it somewhere. We read "La Oruga Muy Hambriente" together. That's "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" for those of you who have read it in English. Big Sister and I took turns reading every other page. She is a very good reader in both Spanish and English.
The grownups were pretty surprised that I could read Spanish. (I can read and pronounce it decently but frankly I don't always know what I'm saying. With "La Oruga," though, I did, between the pictures and my vague memories of reading it in English as a kid.) I heard a couple of them saying, "hey, she's pretty good!"
The funniest part was when Santiago came up to me and asked me in Spanish, "How come you talk to me in English if you know Spanish?" I answered in Spansih, "Because you always talk to me in English. If you talk to me in English, I'll talk English to you. If you talk to me in Spanish, I'll talk Spanish." We laughed.
Friday, April 07, 2006
Clandestine CAPS meeting
Apparently some folks showed up at the last CAPS meeting who may have come to get information to feed back to local gangbangers about who is giving the police information. I wasn't there. Someone called me and asked if I would come to a special meeting with the sergeant to give him the real poop. I went.
I'm not going to give any details, except to say the sergeant said, "It was really weird when you all stopped talking at the other meeting. I thought, 'I've been coming to these meetings for two years and they never run out of things to say.'"
We may have to continue holding parallel meetings until the nefarious element quits coming, I've been advised. The sergeant suggested writing stuff down.
I'm glad I wasn't at the meeting where everyone shut up. I might have been too naive to take the hint. Yikes.
I'm not going to give any details, except to say the sergeant said, "It was really weird when you all stopped talking at the other meeting. I thought, 'I've been coming to these meetings for two years and they never run out of things to say.'"
We may have to continue holding parallel meetings until the nefarious element quits coming, I've been advised. The sergeant suggested writing stuff down.
I'm glad I wasn't at the meeting where everyone shut up. I might have been too naive to take the hint. Yikes.
Dawn's Exhibtion
Well, after all the storm und drang, Dawn's exhibition went remarkably well yesterday. She held her poise, even when she couldn't find a document or when we pressed her about points of math she didn't know very well. She could just say, "I don't know," and move on. She also managed to talk about all the things she went through this quarter with the house and how that dampened her motivation to get through her school work. She said she is learning the difference between saying you're going to do something and really doing it.
She really knew her stuff in talking about colonization and why Europeans became the colonizers and what weapons they used, including germ warfare (smallpox), to kill off indigenous Americans. She also managed to translate almost her entire report on Madagascar, which she had prepared in English, into Spanish for the presentation. She was translating her power point text on the fly and doing a very good job of it, from what I could tell and from what the bilingual teacher roped into the panel said afterwards.
The only big bummer was she didn't invite her mom. I feel guilty because I knew the night before that she hadn't invited her. I encouraged her to reconsider and asked why she hadn't. She said she didn't invite her because she knew the exhibition wouldn't be as good as it should be and she didn't want her mom riding her back any more than she already it. (Dawn feels very put-upon these days. I'm not sure whether any of it has any legitimacy or if it's all teen angst.)
Anyway, I double-checked if she wanted me to come and she said yes. Then I said, "I really think you should ask your mom." But it didn't even occur to me that I could say something to her myself. The thing is, I do feel like it's Dawn's exhibiton and I wouldn't have the right to invite someone on her behalf. So I didn't. I just hoped that my speech to her about inviting her mom would take.
It didn't. I got there and her advisor told me she literally had just found out five minutes before that Dawn hadn't asked her. I said I knew she hadn't at 10:30 last night but I told her she should and then went to bed and went to work and hadn't followed through to see if she did. Well, her advisor didn't call then. I don't know if she should have or not.
Last night I went to the house--I thought Dawn might at least have said something to her mom about it, so I said, "Muy bien hecho" (Very good work) and pointed at Dawn as soon as I walked in the door. So, the cat was out of the bag. Dawn looked surprised but not too upset. Her mom called her dad at work and told him. I got parts of the conversation but not everything. We were watching a sad TV show about two pregnant women with cancer. Both survived, but one delivered a stillborn baby because they had to give the woman chemo to keep her alive. Anyway, I spotted tears running down Dawn's mom's face and I just didn't know if it was from the show or from finding out Dawn hadn't invited her. So I felt pretty crappy, and of course I don't even know if Dawn noticed. I guess I'll have to talk to her about it.
She really knew her stuff in talking about colonization and why Europeans became the colonizers and what weapons they used, including germ warfare (smallpox), to kill off indigenous Americans. She also managed to translate almost her entire report on Madagascar, which she had prepared in English, into Spanish for the presentation. She was translating her power point text on the fly and doing a very good job of it, from what I could tell and from what the bilingual teacher roped into the panel said afterwards.
The only big bummer was she didn't invite her mom. I feel guilty because I knew the night before that she hadn't invited her. I encouraged her to reconsider and asked why she hadn't. She said she didn't invite her because she knew the exhibition wouldn't be as good as it should be and she didn't want her mom riding her back any more than she already it. (Dawn feels very put-upon these days. I'm not sure whether any of it has any legitimacy or if it's all teen angst.)
Anyway, I double-checked if she wanted me to come and she said yes. Then I said, "I really think you should ask your mom." But it didn't even occur to me that I could say something to her myself. The thing is, I do feel like it's Dawn's exhibiton and I wouldn't have the right to invite someone on her behalf. So I didn't. I just hoped that my speech to her about inviting her mom would take.
It didn't. I got there and her advisor told me she literally had just found out five minutes before that Dawn hadn't asked her. I said I knew she hadn't at 10:30 last night but I told her she should and then went to bed and went to work and hadn't followed through to see if she did. Well, her advisor didn't call then. I don't know if she should have or not.
Last night I went to the house--I thought Dawn might at least have said something to her mom about it, so I said, "Muy bien hecho" (Very good work) and pointed at Dawn as soon as I walked in the door. So, the cat was out of the bag. Dawn looked surprised but not too upset. Her mom called her dad at work and told him. I got parts of the conversation but not everything. We were watching a sad TV show about two pregnant women with cancer. Both survived, but one delivered a stillborn baby because they had to give the woman chemo to keep her alive. Anyway, I spotted tears running down Dawn's mom's face and I just didn't know if it was from the show or from finding out Dawn hadn't invited her. So I felt pretty crappy, and of course I don't even know if Dawn noticed. I guess I'll have to talk to her about it.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Library Trip Scores a Foul
The good news: Dawn came over today and we got her a book on Madagascar and a book on hurricanes, so she might be able to salvage her exhibition on Thursday.
The bad news: Dawn told her boss at her internship and told me where she was going, but she didn't tell her parents or her advisor. In a move worthy of Romeo & Juliet, I called her parents looking for her this morning, thinking she had her mom's cell phone, so her parents found out she hauled off to the library without telling them. Oops.
But not totally oops, either. I was expecting Dawn this afternoon, not this morning, and I didn't really think it was a great idea for her to blow off her internship to do this. She also missed one of the exhibitions she was supposed to attend in the process.
Here's what happened. Just as I was about to do my most important interview of the day, the phone rang. It was Dawn, saying she was on her way here to go to the library. I didn't expect to hear that but I didn't have time to argue, so I said OK, come here first and we'll go over and I hung up. Then I got on the phone with my interview subject. The phone rang, and the number calling in flashed but I didn't see it. I thought it was Dawn so after I finished interviewing, I called her mom's cell phone. Her dad answered the phone. I asked if he knew where Aurora was and we had a not very clear conversation in Spanish in which I said I understood she was coming here to get books and I thought she had permission from school, which I did think at that point.
Anyway, she arrived by about 11:30 or so. I told her what happened and she started crying. She said she hadn't told her parents because they were angry at her yesterday for staying at school until 5 p.m. and not telling them where she was. She figured they wouldn't believe her if she told them her plan and they wouldn't let her. I told her I really thought more communication, not less, was the answer in this situation. Then I found out she hadn't spoken with Carolina either. I asked if she wanted to call Carolina and she said, no, she's probably in an exhibition anwyay, which I thought was probably true. Plus, Dawn was going back to school to watch a 2 p.m. exhibition.
We called her mom and told her that Dawn had been here to get books and was going back to school for her 2 p.m. exhibition that ends at 3. I hope everything went OK from here. Whew!
As we were walking back to the office from the library, I said, "Well, if you're grounded for life, at least you can do your reports."
"Yeah," she said. "Now I have somthing to read." (She did have some stuff prior to this, but I think not enough to get a good grade.) Stay tuned. Her exhibition is Thursday afternoon.
The bad news: Dawn told her boss at her internship and told me where she was going, but she didn't tell her parents or her advisor. In a move worthy of Romeo & Juliet, I called her parents looking for her this morning, thinking she had her mom's cell phone, so her parents found out she hauled off to the library without telling them. Oops.
But not totally oops, either. I was expecting Dawn this afternoon, not this morning, and I didn't really think it was a great idea for her to blow off her internship to do this. She also missed one of the exhibitions she was supposed to attend in the process.
Here's what happened. Just as I was about to do my most important interview of the day, the phone rang. It was Dawn, saying she was on her way here to go to the library. I didn't expect to hear that but I didn't have time to argue, so I said OK, come here first and we'll go over and I hung up. Then I got on the phone with my interview subject. The phone rang, and the number calling in flashed but I didn't see it. I thought it was Dawn so after I finished interviewing, I called her mom's cell phone. Her dad answered the phone. I asked if he knew where Aurora was and we had a not very clear conversation in Spanish in which I said I understood she was coming here to get books and I thought she had permission from school, which I did think at that point.
Anyway, she arrived by about 11:30 or so. I told her what happened and she started crying. She said she hadn't told her parents because they were angry at her yesterday for staying at school until 5 p.m. and not telling them where she was. She figured they wouldn't believe her if she told them her plan and they wouldn't let her. I told her I really thought more communication, not less, was the answer in this situation. Then I found out she hadn't spoken with Carolina either. I asked if she wanted to call Carolina and she said, no, she's probably in an exhibition anwyay, which I thought was probably true. Plus, Dawn was going back to school to watch a 2 p.m. exhibition.
We called her mom and told her that Dawn had been here to get books and was going back to school for her 2 p.m. exhibition that ends at 3. I hope everything went OK from here. Whew!
As we were walking back to the office from the library, I said, "Well, if you're grounded for life, at least you can do your reports."
"Yeah," she said. "Now I have somthing to read." (She did have some stuff prior to this, but I think not enough to get a good grade.) Stay tuned. Her exhibition is Thursday afternoon.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Why I hate spring
More reasons to hate spring--there were two shootings in the neighborhood last week.
I heard this from the two neighborhood principals on Friday afternoon. One of them was feeling bad because he thought at least one of them might have been prevented with better adult presence in the vicinity, I gather.
And a last hated vestige of winter--if you live in Chicago you probably saw footage last week of the fire that killed four young kids. It happened at 54th and Honore, within a mile radius of my house. I woke up Wednesday morning and saw helicopters circling overhead. We were all wondering why they were there. I thought it was another big drug bust or something.
I heard this from the two neighborhood principals on Friday afternoon. One of them was feeling bad because he thought at least one of them might have been prevented with better adult presence in the vicinity, I gather.
And a last hated vestige of winter--if you live in Chicago you probably saw footage last week of the fire that killed four young kids. It happened at 54th and Honore, within a mile radius of my house. I woke up Wednesday morning and saw helicopters circling overhead. We were all wondering why they were there. I thought it was another big drug bust or something.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
School News
My block of South Marshfield Avenue had a lot to brag about this morning at the Chavez LSC meeting. We can boast two Students of the Month--Junior was one of them!!--and a candidate in the hotly contested election for parents on the LSC. There are 15 candidates running for 6 spots, in a city where not every school has enough parents running to fill all the seats, let alone give people choices.
Our community race, by contrast, is lackluster--as comm rep Veronica Lopez put it this morning (via my attempt at translation), "If I vote, I win." She and Fr. Ed, the current reps, are the only folks on the community ballot. I'll go vote for them just to show that there are community people paying attention. (Even if I wanted to run, I can't due to conflicts of interest with my job.)
Anyway, School Lady from down the block is running. I was surprised to see this because she spends so much time over there I thought she was a paid employee. (School employees can't run for LSC at the school where they work, even if they have children enrolled there.) So perhaps she is a volunteer. Wow.
There are clearly some factions involved and I am trying to get a feel for the landscape as quickly as possible. I will be asking the comm reps and School Lady for their opinions as to who the best parent candidates are, even though I can't vote for them.
School Lady's youngest daughter also earned Student of the Month this month. Whoo-hoo! Meanwhile, her oldest daughter is making out OK at Richards, no bad news to report, she tells me. She also tells me there is a contested race for community rep at Richards, so I'll have to go find out who's running and find out who to vote for.
Our community race, by contrast, is lackluster--as comm rep Veronica Lopez put it this morning (via my attempt at translation), "If I vote, I win." She and Fr. Ed, the current reps, are the only folks on the community ballot. I'll go vote for them just to show that there are community people paying attention. (Even if I wanted to run, I can't due to conflicts of interest with my job.)
Anyway, School Lady from down the block is running. I was surprised to see this because she spends so much time over there I thought she was a paid employee. (School employees can't run for LSC at the school where they work, even if they have children enrolled there.) So perhaps she is a volunteer. Wow.
There are clearly some factions involved and I am trying to get a feel for the landscape as quickly as possible. I will be asking the comm reps and School Lady for their opinions as to who the best parent candidates are, even though I can't vote for them.
School Lady's youngest daughter also earned Student of the Month this month. Whoo-hoo! Meanwhile, her oldest daughter is making out OK at Richards, no bad news to report, she tells me. She also tells me there is a contested race for community rep at Richards, so I'll have to go find out who's running and find out who to vote for.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Whose Homework To Do?
I'm busted. My Spanish teacher gave me a ton of homework on Monday night and I have accomplished almost none of it. (I think I wrote no more than two sentences in one of the exercises he assigned to practice the subjunctive. Not too spectacular.) I called and excused myself from class today, pleading an event I "have to" cover tonight. I'll probably stop by, but I really need to go home and help Dawn with her homework.
Last night I got a message from Dawn's teacher at Big Picture saying she had tried to find out what Aurora has to do for her science project, but she hadn't gotten farther than hearing Dawn's friend Gladys did all the work, so Dawn's not getting any credit. Dawn also has a project to do on Madagascar.
Dawn's family moved over the weekend. Someone broke in their old place while they were moving. The thief or thieves got Joey's gold necklace, a couple of cameras, the little TV Julian watches in their van, other stuff like that. Ouch. Aurora says she doesn't feel safe in the new house now, either. I know what she means. Last night they were cleaning the old place and now they are really done being there. I can hardly believe it.
This morning I went to school with Dawn and talked with her advisor and her science teacher. Her advisor scheduled her exhibition for next Thursday so we have a week to get her caught up. Thank goodness! Her teacher was very stern with her: "I did that this time because I knew the circumstances, but next time you have to be prepared. I'm not going to do this again."
I met her science teacher and got a list of all her missing assigments. I think she has only turned in one assignment this quarter, and that is one more than Julian has managed to scrape in. Great.
The science teacher is OK with Dawn doing a project on hurricanes on her own, since Gladys already finished the one they were supposedly doing together. Since Dawn already learned something about hurricanes she doesn't want to start all over this late in the game. I can see we have our work cut out for us this weekend. My poor Spanish homework may or may not get done between taxes, Dawn's quarter of missing work and anything I can do to get Julian to pull it together. Whew.
Last night I got a message from Dawn's teacher at Big Picture saying she had tried to find out what Aurora has to do for her science project, but she hadn't gotten farther than hearing Dawn's friend Gladys did all the work, so Dawn's not getting any credit. Dawn also has a project to do on Madagascar.
Dawn's family moved over the weekend. Someone broke in their old place while they were moving. The thief or thieves got Joey's gold necklace, a couple of cameras, the little TV Julian watches in their van, other stuff like that. Ouch. Aurora says she doesn't feel safe in the new house now, either. I know what she means. Last night they were cleaning the old place and now they are really done being there. I can hardly believe it.
This morning I went to school with Dawn and talked with her advisor and her science teacher. Her advisor scheduled her exhibition for next Thursday so we have a week to get her caught up. Thank goodness! Her teacher was very stern with her: "I did that this time because I knew the circumstances, but next time you have to be prepared. I'm not going to do this again."
I met her science teacher and got a list of all her missing assigments. I think she has only turned in one assignment this quarter, and that is one more than Julian has managed to scrape in. Great.
The science teacher is OK with Dawn doing a project on hurricanes on her own, since Gladys already finished the one they were supposedly doing together. Since Dawn already learned something about hurricanes she doesn't want to start all over this late in the game. I can see we have our work cut out for us this weekend. My poor Spanish homework may or may not get done between taxes, Dawn's quarter of missing work and anything I can do to get Julian to pull it together. Whew.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
How I learned to stop worrying and love the Machine
Late last week I called one of Esther's campaign people. "What's going on?" I asked. He assured me everything was OK. I asked which precincts hadn't come in yet, and he said they were in a friendly ward (I'm sorry to say I'm unclear whether they were 3rd or 11th ward precincts). But I got off the phone with the general impression that they were precincts that would put Esther over the top.
And with one precinct left to go, here's what the Board of Election Commissioners has to say:
DEM - Rep. In Gen. Assembly, 6th
113 of 114 precincts counted
99.12%
Samuel T. Bunville 1688 15.85%
Keith B. Kysel 760 7.13%
Esther Golar 4238 39.79%
Darryl Smith 3966 37.23%
Total 10652 100.00%
And with one precinct left to go, here's what the Board of Election Commissioners has to say:
DEM - Rep. In Gen. Assembly, 6th
113 of 114 precincts counted
99.12%
Samuel T. Bunville 1688 15.85%
Keith B. Kysel 760 7.13%
Esther Golar 4238 39.79%
Darryl Smith 3966 37.23%
Total 10652 100.00%
Spring, my lost love
No, I'm not going to quote Eliot's opening line to The Waste Land. It's not even April yet, for starters. Besides, this less-famous line hits the mark: "Winter kept us warm, covering/Earth in forgetful snow."
Now we have the gray chilling wetness of March air above the naked earth. The bare ground reveals all the trash that stayed planted under snow for the last three months, and the March wind blows it all over the streets, sidewalks and yards.
I bet I pick up more trash in March and April than any other time of the year. And it's all sodden, muddy and prone to fall apart into soggy shards at the first touch.
When I was a little girl in Wilmington, Delaware, there would always be a day in March that was warm and wet. You could smell the earth warming up and the promise of flowers, soon, soon. Back then, I loved spring. This weekend I remembered why. I went home to visit and there were five grape hyacinths and two daffodils in my mother's front yard.
This morning, the traffic circle at Marshfield and 50th has some bulbs peeping out of the ground, but it will be weeks before they flower. Even at 48 degrees there's no promise of spring in the air. Nothing but the gray chill that lasts until May.
It's the worst season of Chicago, bar none. And nothing makes an ugly Chicago neighborhood look uglier than spring.
Now we have the gray chilling wetness of March air above the naked earth. The bare ground reveals all the trash that stayed planted under snow for the last three months, and the March wind blows it all over the streets, sidewalks and yards.
I bet I pick up more trash in March and April than any other time of the year. And it's all sodden, muddy and prone to fall apart into soggy shards at the first touch.
When I was a little girl in Wilmington, Delaware, there would always be a day in March that was warm and wet. You could smell the earth warming up and the promise of flowers, soon, soon. Back then, I loved spring. This weekend I remembered why. I went home to visit and there were five grape hyacinths and two daffodils in my mother's front yard.
This morning, the traffic circle at Marshfield and 50th has some bulbs peeping out of the ground, but it will be weeks before they flower. Even at 48 degrees there's no promise of spring in the air. Nothing but the gray chill that lasts until May.
It's the worst season of Chicago, bar none. And nothing makes an ugly Chicago neighborhood look uglier than spring.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
One Big Win, One Still in Doubt
First, not on the electoral front--Dawn's dad got his job back! He went back to work yesterday. They also won back pay for the week they were suspended from their jobs. Whoo-hoo!
And, I'm sorry to say the jury is still out on whether my pal Esther Golar gets to keep her seat.
Here's what the Sun-Times had to say a few minutes ago:
District 6 Updated: 3:38 p.m.
78.9% of precincts reporting
Darryl Smith 3,245 38.6%
Esther Golar 3,240 38.6%
Samuel Bunville 1,332 15.9%
Keith Kysel 583 6.9%
So I take it that purchasing the services of Joe from Coleman's office was too expensive. And I take it I must have misheard his turnout for Pat Bailey. Maybe he said 4400. Maybe I was high from the glue on the envelopes.
Esther's campaign manager, a nice Irish guy, assured us last night that she had it in the bag when John Daley called to tell us the 11th ward results, where she picked up over 1000 votes and trounced the opposition. The CM opined that even if the other wards were close contests, this would be enough to take her over the top. Well, there's still about a quarter of the precincts yet to come in and the 11th has failed to keep her on top. Ouch. Stay tuned.
And, I'm sorry to say the jury is still out on whether my pal Esther Golar gets to keep her seat.
Here's what the Sun-Times had to say a few minutes ago:
District 6 Updated: 3:38 p.m.
78.9% of precincts reporting
Darryl Smith 3,245 38.6%
Esther Golar 3,240 38.6%
Samuel Bunville 1,332 15.9%
Keith Kysel 583 6.9%
So I take it that purchasing the services of Joe from Coleman's office was too expensive. And I take it I must have misheard his turnout for Pat Bailey. Maybe he said 4400. Maybe I was high from the glue on the envelopes.
Esther's campaign manager, a nice Irish guy, assured us last night that she had it in the bag when John Daley called to tell us the 11th ward results, where she picked up over 1000 votes and trounced the opposition. The CM opined that even if the other wards were close contests, this would be enough to take her over the top. Well, there's still about a quarter of the precincts yet to come in and the 11th has failed to keep her on top. Ouch. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Primary Day
Well, when I went to Richards High to vote this morning, my friend the Democratic judge told me I was about the 10th person to vote. He said about 50 percent of the eligible voters turned out in the 04 general election (that's comparable to national, right??), but as usual with a primary they expect a low turnout today. Polls close in less than half an hour.
I've decided somewhat against my better judgment to go ahead and tell you all about my experiences with Esther Golar's run to get elected to her currently appointed seat as state representative in Illinois' 6th District. Esther has been active on the Neighborhood Housing Services board, which is how I know her. When our previous state rep. Patricia Bailey, was found not to be living in the district, she was forced out and Esther was appointed to replace her. That happened since the new year, I believe. So now Esther is running for the seat.
In a boring primary, her race has been pretty live. Originally there were seven candidates, but at least three dropped out. The only ones I've heard much about besides Esther are Darryl Smith and Sam Bunville. The buzz I heard (if I recall right, so this is rumor) is that Smith is allied with Englewood activist Hal Baskin, who has run for alderman unsuccessfully a couple of times. Rumor also has it that he has ties to some less than savory groups in the hood but I think everybody slings those allegations around at election time and I don't know the truth or falsity of it at all.
Esther is the only candidate I'm aware of who has personally made an appearance in our part of the neighborhood. This is something I'm pretty concerned about because I feel like our part of the world is neglected by most of the aldermen who have pieces of it, since their main bases are to the east in Englewood, Woodlawn, etc. Esther, who doesn't speak Spanish, put in time at two Spanish-language Masses this month to be introduced to congregations where we have no idea how many voters there are. (That's true in the black churches, too, but for different reasons.) Anyway, it was clear to me from the git-go that she was my candidate in this race.
So I've been doing some volunteer work for her in my spare time--mostly stuffing and addressing envelopes. I was in the office the weekend before last during an interesting strategy session with the get-out-the-vote guy from Alderman Shirley Coleman's office. He explained that he's interested in making sure there's as high a turnout as possible in this election, even though aldermen aren't in the race this year, because high turnout means a challenger would need more signatures to get on the ballot the next time she has to run. He apparently delivered over 44,000 votes for Bailey in the previous election and was confident he could pull off the same level of support for Esther.
"Let's see how much they charge us," said one of Esther's advisors after he left. I have no idea what the price tag was for that. Esther had some backing from other pols--from being around the office I know state Senator Rickey Hendon sent some cash her way from his war chest--and a friend who checked the campaign finance database informs me she had the big bucks in this race, which didn't surprise me. For once I'm not fighting the machine.
In fact, I'll be at the campaign office tonight to watch the returns. My buddy the Dem judge, who put in more time for Esther than I did, may not be there, though. He's been up since 3 a.m. and there were some snafus getting the new balloting system to work, so he's not sure how long he'll have to stay after the polls close. Gotta say I'm not too fond of the new ballots--no privacy since they are so big and the judge watches you scan it into the machine. I just hope it read properly.
Now that I live in a ward with low turnout, I wonder how closely the alderman's office looks at the returns. Will they be able to tell a north lakefront independent moved into the ward and didn't follow the alderman's sample ballot? Probably. I wonder if that will exacerbate the trouble with getting the streetlights, garbage,, etc. It's like living in a time warp down here. But at least I don't think anybody was voting often...
I've decided somewhat against my better judgment to go ahead and tell you all about my experiences with Esther Golar's run to get elected to her currently appointed seat as state representative in Illinois' 6th District. Esther has been active on the Neighborhood Housing Services board, which is how I know her. When our previous state rep. Patricia Bailey, was found not to be living in the district, she was forced out and Esther was appointed to replace her. That happened since the new year, I believe. So now Esther is running for the seat.
In a boring primary, her race has been pretty live. Originally there were seven candidates, but at least three dropped out. The only ones I've heard much about besides Esther are Darryl Smith and Sam Bunville. The buzz I heard (if I recall right, so this is rumor) is that Smith is allied with Englewood activist Hal Baskin, who has run for alderman unsuccessfully a couple of times. Rumor also has it that he has ties to some less than savory groups in the hood but I think everybody slings those allegations around at election time and I don't know the truth or falsity of it at all.
Esther is the only candidate I'm aware of who has personally made an appearance in our part of the neighborhood. This is something I'm pretty concerned about because I feel like our part of the world is neglected by most of the aldermen who have pieces of it, since their main bases are to the east in Englewood, Woodlawn, etc. Esther, who doesn't speak Spanish, put in time at two Spanish-language Masses this month to be introduced to congregations where we have no idea how many voters there are. (That's true in the black churches, too, but for different reasons.) Anyway, it was clear to me from the git-go that she was my candidate in this race.
So I've been doing some volunteer work for her in my spare time--mostly stuffing and addressing envelopes. I was in the office the weekend before last during an interesting strategy session with the get-out-the-vote guy from Alderman Shirley Coleman's office. He explained that he's interested in making sure there's as high a turnout as possible in this election, even though aldermen aren't in the race this year, because high turnout means a challenger would need more signatures to get on the ballot the next time she has to run. He apparently delivered over 44,000 votes for Bailey in the previous election and was confident he could pull off the same level of support for Esther.
"Let's see how much they charge us," said one of Esther's advisors after he left. I have no idea what the price tag was for that. Esther had some backing from other pols--from being around the office I know state Senator Rickey Hendon sent some cash her way from his war chest--and a friend who checked the campaign finance database informs me she had the big bucks in this race, which didn't surprise me. For once I'm not fighting the machine.
In fact, I'll be at the campaign office tonight to watch the returns. My buddy the Dem judge, who put in more time for Esther than I did, may not be there, though. He's been up since 3 a.m. and there were some snafus getting the new balloting system to work, so he's not sure how long he'll have to stay after the polls close. Gotta say I'm not too fond of the new ballots--no privacy since they are so big and the judge watches you scan it into the machine. I just hope it read properly.
Now that I live in a ward with low turnout, I wonder how closely the alderman's office looks at the returns. Will they be able to tell a north lakefront independent moved into the ward and didn't follow the alderman's sample ballot? Probably. I wonder if that will exacerbate the trouble with getting the streetlights, garbage,, etc. It's like living in a time warp down here. But at least I don't think anybody was voting often...
Monday, March 20, 2006
Slam Dancing for Jesus
That's what we were doing at Su Casa last night. Every Sunday around 8 p.m., workers and the occasional visitor (like yours truly) get together for prayer and reflection. Sometimes it's quiet and candle-y, but last night was basically a sing-a-long.
We sang a bunch of spirituals. Stephanie has a great voice for them. Mark knows quite a repertoire and had us all going. We did a few Taize chants because they're easy. One person was rather wedded to a hymnal and the rest of us were trying to pry us out of that into whatever common songs we all knew by heart or could pick up quickly.
I learned three new ways to sing "Amazing Grace," including to the tune of "Gilligan's Island." I dare you to try it yourself. I think it also works with that great 70s hit, "Peaceful Easy Feeling," which is truly hilarious!
Former St. Francis worker Mary Kay Brennan, who was visiting (yeah!) requested "Finlandia," highly appropriate the night after the peace march in Chicago.
And we wrapped up with the big finish of "Lord of the Dance" which got Mark on his feet doing something between Irish and Russian dancing, which rapidly evolved into Mark and Stephanie slamming with the occasional assist from me, despite the tendonitis in my left foot. Hey, you can always hop on the other one!
We sang a bunch of spirituals. Stephanie has a great voice for them. Mark knows quite a repertoire and had us all going. We did a few Taize chants because they're easy. One person was rather wedded to a hymnal and the rest of us were trying to pry us out of that into whatever common songs we all knew by heart or could pick up quickly.
I learned three new ways to sing "Amazing Grace," including to the tune of "Gilligan's Island." I dare you to try it yourself. I think it also works with that great 70s hit, "Peaceful Easy Feeling," which is truly hilarious!
Former St. Francis worker Mary Kay Brennan, who was visiting (yeah!) requested "Finlandia," highly appropriate the night after the peace march in Chicago.
And we wrapped up with the big finish of "Lord of the Dance" which got Mark on his feet doing something between Irish and Russian dancing, which rapidly evolved into Mark and Stephanie slamming with the occasional assist from me, despite the tendonitis in my left foot. Hey, you can always hop on the other one!
Friday, March 17, 2006
Dawn's Dad on TV
Well, given that Dawn's dad got interviewed on cable TV yesterday (Azteca, a Spanish-language cable channel), I guess I'll out him. Juan Garcia spoke on Azteca yesterday and had his mug splashed all over Univision and the front page of this morning's Hoy (the Tribune's Spanish-language daily paper). If you see Hoy today, he's the guy on the left in the back wearing a green t-shirt and jacket and helping to hold up the banner.
Juan and his coworkers have found themselves a kick-ass lawyer, Jose Oliva, from the Interfaith Workers' Rights Center, and they held a press conference yesterday. They have a meeting with company management today, who were quoted in this morning's Hoy saying this all came from "a misunderstaning between supervisors and employees" ('un malentiendo entre supervisores y empleados." They have a meeting with management right now (started at 12:30 p.m.). Let's hope this all gets settled and everybody goes back to work.
Last night I went by the Garcia's old place (the apartment) and sat down to watch the telenovela Alborada with the missis. Juan came in later with a 12-pack of Corona and two bags of Mexican baked goodies to celebrate. They had taped the Univision afternoon broadcast so I got to see him standing in the back.
We're having dinner at my house on Saturday night, featuring Mexican-Irish chili. That would be chili with green, red and orange peppers in it! Let's hope it's a "you got your job back" celebration. Stay tuned.
Juan and his coworkers have found themselves a kick-ass lawyer, Jose Oliva, from the Interfaith Workers' Rights Center, and they held a press conference yesterday. They have a meeting with company management today, who were quoted in this morning's Hoy saying this all came from "a misunderstaning between supervisors and employees" ('un malentiendo entre supervisores y empleados." They have a meeting with management right now (started at 12:30 p.m.). Let's hope this all gets settled and everybody goes back to work.
Last night I went by the Garcia's old place (the apartment) and sat down to watch the telenovela Alborada with the missis. Juan came in later with a 12-pack of Corona and two bags of Mexican baked goodies to celebrate. They had taped the Univision afternoon broadcast so I got to see him standing in the back.
We're having dinner at my house on Saturday night, featuring Mexican-Irish chili. That would be chili with green, red and orange peppers in it! Let's hope it's a "you got your job back" celebration. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
More March & Fallout
The good news about the march was that somewhere between 100,000 and 500,000 people showed up. That's the police and the organizers' estimates, respectively. Usually splitting it down the middle gives you something about right, so let's say 300,000 folks showed up.
Now here's the bad news. Dawn's dad may be getting fired over it. He and all the other folks working at the factory went Friday, despite being told Thursday night that anyone who went would get the axe. No one has received official termination letters yet. It sounds like the official company staff, including Dawn's dad, may be able to stay on, but the company wants to dump the day labor folks who were working there and chose to march. The company employees are saying they won't stay unless everyone gets their jobs back. I don't know how this will shake out, but it was pretty rough sitting with Dawn and her parents on folding chairs and large buckets in their new house, with dust all over the floor and white paint drying on the walls, wondering whether they're going to be able to make the mortgage payments.
I pitched the story to a reporter friend of mine (won't say which one yet) and am trying to get to a labor lawyer. I think if the company really wants to fire them they can, but I'm hopeful that a bilingual lawyer could put the fear of God in the management and shelve the whole dispute. If any of you readers have any leads on advocates who could help, please post. I've sent an email to a buddy at the Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights, but you can imagine they are swamped with organizing stuff now and who knows when I'll get a response. Thanks for any tips.
Now here's the bad news. Dawn's dad may be getting fired over it. He and all the other folks working at the factory went Friday, despite being told Thursday night that anyone who went would get the axe. No one has received official termination letters yet. It sounds like the official company staff, including Dawn's dad, may be able to stay on, but the company wants to dump the day labor folks who were working there and chose to march. The company employees are saying they won't stay unless everyone gets their jobs back. I don't know how this will shake out, but it was pretty rough sitting with Dawn and her parents on folding chairs and large buckets in their new house, with dust all over the floor and white paint drying on the walls, wondering whether they're going to be able to make the mortgage payments.
I pitched the story to a reporter friend of mine (won't say which one yet) and am trying to get to a labor lawyer. I think if the company really wants to fire them they can, but I'm hopeful that a bilingual lawyer could put the fear of God in the management and shelve the whole dispute. If any of you readers have any leads on advocates who could help, please post. I've sent an email to a buddy at the Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights, but you can imagine they are swamped with organizing stuff now and who knows when I'll get a response. Thanks for any tips.
Friday, March 10, 2006
March Update
The English language news media in Chicago is finally catching on that this will be a big deal. My colleage and I went to the gym this morning and she saw a spot on the local news showing the route--from Union Park at Ashland and Lake, down to Jackson, then across Jackson Boulevard eastbound to Federal Plaza.
Buses are coming in from all over the Midwest. Organizers have no idea how many people will show--estimates are ranging from 50,000 to 500,000. It's a warm, sunny day, so I'd bet high.
Rosa called this morning. They're going. Junior and his bro are calling in sick to school. I bet half the kids at Chavez call in sick today. Big Picture students are allowed to leave early to go if they have a note from their parents. Dawn is supposed to call me at the office when she gets to Federal Plaza. I may jump on the Green Line at lunchtime to ride past the park and get a look at the crowd from above.
Whee!!
Buses are coming in from all over the Midwest. Organizers have no idea how many people will show--estimates are ranging from 50,000 to 500,000. It's a warm, sunny day, so I'd bet high.
Rosa called this morning. They're going. Junior and his bro are calling in sick to school. I bet half the kids at Chavez call in sick today. Big Picture students are allowed to leave early to go if they have a note from their parents. Dawn is supposed to call me at the office when she gets to Federal Plaza. I may jump on the Green Line at lunchtime to ride past the park and get a look at the crowd from above.
Whee!!
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Persuading the Man
I can't remember if I posted this to the blog before, but for a while I've been kind of wondering what I'm doing down here in Back of the Yards. I read about the young college kids who moved into Uptown back in the 60s to organize the poor white Appalachians there to fight The Man. On the one hand, I'm not so down with the "I'm here to organize you" mentality. On the other, they had a vision of where they were going, and sometimes that's a good thing. After months of stumbling around, I was feeling like I lacked purpose.
Well, thanks to Rep. Sensenbrenner and his heinous anti-immigration bill, I no longer lack purpose in my neighborhood. Dawn called me last night to ask if I would help her write a letter to the management at her dad's factory, asking to let the workers off on Friday afternoon to attend the pro-immigration march. So she came over and we worked out a first draft together. Her dad called in the middle of it saying that the floor manager had threatened to fire anybody who didn't show up for work on Friday. She told him the story I heard from Little Village, where a group of workers volunteered to come in Saturday at regular, not overtime pay, to make up the lost time. They may hold that idea in reserve as a Plan B strategy.
Anyway, Dawn and I wrote a very polite letter in which we pointed out the bill would increase penalties on employers who hire undocumented workers (i.e. possibly hit the employers in their wallet) and requested a chance for the workers to make their views known publicly. I don't know that it will have any effect but I'm really happy to be able to lend some of my talents to a project they organized, instead of trying to get them to do something that was on my agenda.
Projections for attendance at tomorrow's rally and march are up to 100,000. I think that would be the largest demonstration here in my 16 years of residence. Stay tuned.
Well, thanks to Rep. Sensenbrenner and his heinous anti-immigration bill, I no longer lack purpose in my neighborhood. Dawn called me last night to ask if I would help her write a letter to the management at her dad's factory, asking to let the workers off on Friday afternoon to attend the pro-immigration march. So she came over and we worked out a first draft together. Her dad called in the middle of it saying that the floor manager had threatened to fire anybody who didn't show up for work on Friday. She told him the story I heard from Little Village, where a group of workers volunteered to come in Saturday at regular, not overtime pay, to make up the lost time. They may hold that idea in reserve as a Plan B strategy.
Anyway, Dawn and I wrote a very polite letter in which we pointed out the bill would increase penalties on employers who hire undocumented workers (i.e. possibly hit the employers in their wallet) and requested a chance for the workers to make their views known publicly. I don't know that it will have any effect but I'm really happy to be able to lend some of my talents to a project they organized, instead of trying to get them to do something that was on my agenda.
Projections for attendance at tomorrow's rally and march are up to 100,000. I think that would be the largest demonstration here in my 16 years of residence. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Suspected Drug Drop
You know, I'm a real idiot when it comes to spotting drug activity. For all the years I have spent in rough neighborhoods, I'm really not too clued in to what the guys on the corner are actually doing. I remember I was out on the West Side one day a few years ago and a young man walked up to me and said, "Blow? Blow?"
"No thanks," i said, and kept walking. Honestly, I had not the faintest notion what he was asking me. I thought maybe he wanted a blow job and couldn't figure out for the life of me why he thought I might give him one.
It took a few days for the slang to register. "Oh, blow!" I thought to myself on the bus. "Powder cocaine!! I'm a white lady so I don't want rock. Perhaps I want blow."
I have very occasionally seen money change hands, but have never actually seen the stuff out on the street. Still haven't done that, but I lurched a few steps closer last night.
Ironically, I was on my way home from Chavez Elementary, where a yellow legal paper stuck to the fence proclaimed: "CAPS Meeting Canceled." As I walked down the block south of the viaduct, I saw a huge black pickup truck blocking the street. One African American man was bent down and sticking his hand up against the door of the house like he was putting something there. Another one was on his cell phone on the sidewalk. I nearly ran into him for staring across the street (smart...not!)
"Hello," he said. Quite politely. Not in the least intimidating.
I kept walking very fast, head fixed straight ahead. Yes, I did call 911 when I got inside. Probably should have called the district tactical officers. I may yet.
Alberto told me last night he's seen that black truck around, too.
"No thanks," i said, and kept walking. Honestly, I had not the faintest notion what he was asking me. I thought maybe he wanted a blow job and couldn't figure out for the life of me why he thought I might give him one.
It took a few days for the slang to register. "Oh, blow!" I thought to myself on the bus. "Powder cocaine!! I'm a white lady so I don't want rock. Perhaps I want blow."
I have very occasionally seen money change hands, but have never actually seen the stuff out on the street. Still haven't done that, but I lurched a few steps closer last night.
Ironically, I was on my way home from Chavez Elementary, where a yellow legal paper stuck to the fence proclaimed: "CAPS Meeting Canceled." As I walked down the block south of the viaduct, I saw a huge black pickup truck blocking the street. One African American man was bent down and sticking his hand up against the door of the house like he was putting something there. Another one was on his cell phone on the sidewalk. I nearly ran into him for staring across the street (smart...not!)
"Hello," he said. Quite politely. Not in the least intimidating.
I kept walking very fast, head fixed straight ahead. Yes, I did call 911 when I got inside. Probably should have called the district tactical officers. I may yet.
Alberto told me last night he's seen that black truck around, too.
Monday, March 06, 2006
La Lucha Continua
about immigration, that is. The Archdiocese has a big campaign on to encourage elected officials to find more just solutions than building a wall on the Mexican border. They are not explicitly supporting the Kennedy-McCain bill, but pro-immingration analysts pretty much agree that that is the best proposal out there right now, from what I hear. It creates a guest worker program and provides additional visas to reunite families separated by immigration status. Here's what Ted himself has to say about his bill:
http://www.tedkennedy.com/journal/724/fighting-for-real-immigration-reform
Anyway, yesterday there were big card campaigns going on at Holy Cross and St. Joe's. Unfortunately, they weren't the most highly organized. The college kids at Holy Cross are taking over this weekend to make sure people know who their US Congressman is, and not just to send them to Luis Gutierrez, who already is on their side of the issue. I think I'll have to do this for St. Joe's because more of us probably live in Dan Lipinski's district. Someone other than me had heard about Democrats voting for the nasty Sensenbrenner bill in the house, that would build a wall and criminalize anyone who helped an undocumented immigrant. The story was that some Dems who supported the bill (Lipinski and even Jan Schakowsky-ouch!!) did so knowing it would die in the Senate and getting some Republican votes on some project of theirs in return. The nuance I picked up last night was that this vote was supposed to insulate them from right-wing heat. Well, now they've pissed off at least some of their base instead. Oops!
There's a big march on Friday, which organizers hope will be at least as big as the one last summer (see July posts). So at least 40,000 or more.
http://www.tedkennedy.com/journal/724/fighting-for-real-immigration-reform
Anyway, yesterday there were big card campaigns going on at Holy Cross and St. Joe's. Unfortunately, they weren't the most highly organized. The college kids at Holy Cross are taking over this weekend to make sure people know who their US Congressman is, and not just to send them to Luis Gutierrez, who already is on their side of the issue. I think I'll have to do this for St. Joe's because more of us probably live in Dan Lipinski's district. Someone other than me had heard about Democrats voting for the nasty Sensenbrenner bill in the house, that would build a wall and criminalize anyone who helped an undocumented immigrant. The story was that some Dems who supported the bill (Lipinski and even Jan Schakowsky-ouch!!) did so knowing it would die in the Senate and getting some Republican votes on some project of theirs in return. The nuance I picked up last night was that this vote was supposed to insulate them from right-wing heat. Well, now they've pissed off at least some of their base instead. Oops!
There's a big march on Friday, which organizers hope will be at least as big as the one last summer (see July posts). So at least 40,000 or more.
Political Doings
It's primary season in Chicago and the 6th district state rep race (mine) is hotter than most this year. Our former state rep, Patricia Bailey was forced out of the seat when it was discovered she didn't live in the district. I think I mentioned before that the person appointed to take her place is someone I know from Neighborhood Housing Services.
So, State Representative Esther Golar (D-6) has at least three challengers, none of whom I'd ever heard of before. Her campaign office is around the corner from my house, so I've been in to address envelopes, etc. While I was there Saturday, Esther herself came by in the middle of the afternoon, after a morning of door knocking. Within five minutes, she was mopping the white-tiled office floor.
"We've got to keep this looking nice," she said.
I teased her. "Esther, how many state reps do you know who mop their own office floors?"
"Not many," she said with a smile.
So, State Representative Esther Golar (D-6) has at least three challengers, none of whom I'd ever heard of before. Her campaign office is around the corner from my house, so I've been in to address envelopes, etc. While I was there Saturday, Esther herself came by in the middle of the afternoon, after a morning of door knocking. Within five minutes, she was mopping the white-tiled office floor.
"We've got to keep this looking nice," she said.
I teased her. "Esther, how many state reps do you know who mop their own office floors?"
"Not many," she said with a smile.
The Return of Mr. Married
Yep, he's back. Now he's a couple of blocks north of the train tracks. I was walking up to Holy Cross Church on Saturday when he came out of his new front door.
"Hello," he said. He looks a lot older in just a few months. That tends to happen. When bad things happen to families around here and they get poorer, they tend to move east of Ashland or south of 51st. Mr. Married y familia did the latter. He works in construction, under the table, so sometimes he has a lot of work and sometimes he doesn't. Guess he does now. They just moved in their new place a week ago, he told me.
"Where are you going?" he asked me.
"To Holy Cross. There's a party," I said.
"See you."
I plumb forgot to try to show off the Spanish I have acquired since he left. Probably just as well. And definitely just as well he's a few blocks north.
"Hello," he said. He looks a lot older in just a few months. That tends to happen. When bad things happen to families around here and they get poorer, they tend to move east of Ashland or south of 51st. Mr. Married y familia did the latter. He works in construction, under the table, so sometimes he has a lot of work and sometimes he doesn't. Guess he does now. They just moved in their new place a week ago, he told me.
"Where are you going?" he asked me.
"To Holy Cross. There's a party," I said.
"See you."
I plumb forgot to try to show off the Spanish I have acquired since he left. Probably just as well. And definitely just as well he's a few blocks north.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Retro Ash Wednesday
Fr. Emil said Mass this morning at St. Joe's. He's the new priest from Poland who is Mr. Miracle in our parish since he actually speaks all three languages. He's Polish, learned English, and came here straight from six months of language study in Spain, if I recall correctly.
It was a larger crowd than usual this morning, with better representation from all language sectors, and a special guest appearance by two Catholic Workers, so I even had people to sit with. The only people I expected to see and didn't were the guys from Port Ministries. My buddy Joseph was there with his sons but I didn't get to go peace him because they kept the peace so short.
Peace was short because we had imposition of ashes in addition to Communion. Here's where the retro part comes in. As a post-Vatican II Catholic, I've always received ashes from a priest who dug his thumb in the ash and then marked the sign of the cross on my forehead. Today, Fr. Emil put little mounds of ashes right around everyone's hairline. I'd never seen it done that way before.
In the office ladies' room later this morning, one of my colleagues told me that in fact that is the very old-school way ashes were imposed pre-Vatican II. But that was usually for men, since women wore veils. Women got the thumbprint cross on the forehead, men got the pile of ashes in their hair (or on their bald spot, as happened to Joseph). Now that we don't have to wear veils, I guess in Poland everybody gets them the same way.
By the way, I also got to eat an awesome kolacky, probably homemeade, in the St. Joe's rectory after 9 a.m. Mass on Sunday. For those who don't know, kolacky is the name of a Polish Fat Tuesday treat. It's basically a doughnut dusted with powdered sugar and filled with jam, often raspberry. I'm often skeptical of raspberry jam-filled doughnuts, but this jam was not too sweet and tasted like some real fruit went into it way back in the beginning of the process. If I couldn't have a beignet, a kolacky was probably the next best thing!
It was a larger crowd than usual this morning, with better representation from all language sectors, and a special guest appearance by two Catholic Workers, so I even had people to sit with. The only people I expected to see and didn't were the guys from Port Ministries. My buddy Joseph was there with his sons but I didn't get to go peace him because they kept the peace so short.
Peace was short because we had imposition of ashes in addition to Communion. Here's where the retro part comes in. As a post-Vatican II Catholic, I've always received ashes from a priest who dug his thumb in the ash and then marked the sign of the cross on my forehead. Today, Fr. Emil put little mounds of ashes right around everyone's hairline. I'd never seen it done that way before.
In the office ladies' room later this morning, one of my colleagues told me that in fact that is the very old-school way ashes were imposed pre-Vatican II. But that was usually for men, since women wore veils. Women got the thumbprint cross on the forehead, men got the pile of ashes in their hair (or on their bald spot, as happened to Joseph). Now that we don't have to wear veils, I guess in Poland everybody gets them the same way.
By the way, I also got to eat an awesome kolacky, probably homemeade, in the St. Joe's rectory after 9 a.m. Mass on Sunday. For those who don't know, kolacky is the name of a Polish Fat Tuesday treat. It's basically a doughnut dusted with powdered sugar and filled with jam, often raspberry. I'm often skeptical of raspberry jam-filled doughnuts, but this jam was not too sweet and tasted like some real fruit went into it way back in the beginning of the process. If I couldn't have a beignet, a kolacky was probably the next best thing!
Monday, February 27, 2006
Storm Tracker
Latest Alberto update: I got home in the wee hours of Sat night/Sun morning and went to the kitchen. The good news was Alberto had cleaned the stove and the kitchen floor. The bad news? I opened the freezer door to take out some chicken to thaw in the fridge, and discovered a bottle of lemon cleaner in there!!
Dude, what's up with that????? I did ask him this Sunday morning but frankly couldn't make a great deal of sense of the answer. (Not sure if this was because of a real language barrier or a convenient language barrier....hmmm...) I gathered from a mumbled answer that he was in a hurry and the floor was wet and he stuck it there for lack of a better idea and forgot about it. I suggested the utility closet, which is far from the kitchen and away from the wet floor, would be the best choice, and even the dining room table would be an improvement.
Meanwhile, poor Junior's mom was worried about me because she hadn't seen me in so long. She and the boys stopped by last night. Unfortunately I was actually on the phone with a work-related call and couldn't talk long, but it was nice to see them.
Gracias a Dios, Alberto had a workshop to go to overnight last night. I had a lovely evening at home by myself and got a decent night's sleep. I'm not sure if he's back tonight or Tuesday, but I'm pulling for a Tuesday arrival.
Dude, what's up with that????? I did ask him this Sunday morning but frankly couldn't make a great deal of sense of the answer. (Not sure if this was because of a real language barrier or a convenient language barrier....hmmm...) I gathered from a mumbled answer that he was in a hurry and the floor was wet and he stuck it there for lack of a better idea and forgot about it. I suggested the utility closet, which is far from the kitchen and away from the wet floor, would be the best choice, and even the dining room table would be an improvement.
Meanwhile, poor Junior's mom was worried about me because she hadn't seen me in so long. She and the boys stopped by last night. Unfortunately I was actually on the phone with a work-related call and couldn't talk long, but it was nice to see them.
Gracias a Dios, Alberto had a workshop to go to overnight last night. I had a lovely evening at home by myself and got a decent night's sleep. I'm not sure if he's back tonight or Tuesday, but I'm pulling for a Tuesday arrival.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Fact or Fiction?
The doorbell rang at 5:30 this morning. At least three times, maybe four or five, while I was grabbing a bathrobe and debating whether to answer or not. Have to admit I was hoping Alberto might stick his head out the door. No such luck.
By the fourth or fifth ring I had decided to answer, with the phone in my bathrobe pocket to call 911 immediately if necessary. Guess who? Yup-yup, with a tale of two lovers, or a business transaction, unclear which.
"I saw a couple coming out of your back yard," he said excitedly. (He's almost always about that hyped-up. I assume it's crack.) "They were both black. I followed them." But he really had no further intelligence on them. Then he went on about how he was cold and he could really use a few bucks to get a spot in the house where the owner rents space by the night.
"If they're not burning down the house or trying to break in, wait until dawn to ring the bell," I suggested. But I paid him something, just to get him out of my hair. No, I didn't go back to sleep, but I kind of rested and didn't dwell too much on the whole thing until about 7, when I got up to take a shower.
I thought Alberto had left while I was showering, but he came downstairs while I was eating my oatmeal with pecans and blueberries. (It's only fair to have a special treat for breakfast after a rude awakening, right?) He hadn't heard anything, or maybe he had heard something but just assumed it was regular street noise. Yes, he's a heavy sleeper. I should have asked him about that before I let him move in. A heavy sleeper is useless as an additional night watch aide.
I even teased him about this. "I should have gotten a dog!" We both laughed at that.
Then I wasted some time speculating that Yup-yup had just made up the story to pick up a few bucks. If so, he certainly put some effort in it. I went out back on my way to the bus stop and found a used condom by the back stairs. More disturbingly, I also found a bunch of boards from the demolition going on next door, which made me nervous that someone might start a fire, on purpose or for additional warmth. So I did call the CAPS line and ask if they could send a squad car through the alley on late nights once in a while.
It's still entirely possible he made up the whole thing, or did his business himself back there and decided to tell me about in this fashion to pick up some cash. Great.
By the fourth or fifth ring I had decided to answer, with the phone in my bathrobe pocket to call 911 immediately if necessary. Guess who? Yup-yup, with a tale of two lovers, or a business transaction, unclear which.
"I saw a couple coming out of your back yard," he said excitedly. (He's almost always about that hyped-up. I assume it's crack.) "They were both black. I followed them." But he really had no further intelligence on them. Then he went on about how he was cold and he could really use a few bucks to get a spot in the house where the owner rents space by the night.
"If they're not burning down the house or trying to break in, wait until dawn to ring the bell," I suggested. But I paid him something, just to get him out of my hair. No, I didn't go back to sleep, but I kind of rested and didn't dwell too much on the whole thing until about 7, when I got up to take a shower.
I thought Alberto had left while I was showering, but he came downstairs while I was eating my oatmeal with pecans and blueberries. (It's only fair to have a special treat for breakfast after a rude awakening, right?) He hadn't heard anything, or maybe he had heard something but just assumed it was regular street noise. Yes, he's a heavy sleeper. I should have asked him about that before I let him move in. A heavy sleeper is useless as an additional night watch aide.
I even teased him about this. "I should have gotten a dog!" We both laughed at that.
Then I wasted some time speculating that Yup-yup had just made up the story to pick up a few bucks. If so, he certainly put some effort in it. I went out back on my way to the bus stop and found a used condom by the back stairs. More disturbingly, I also found a bunch of boards from the demolition going on next door, which made me nervous that someone might start a fire, on purpose or for additional warmth. So I did call the CAPS line and ask if they could send a squad car through the alley on late nights once in a while.
It's still entirely possible he made up the whole thing, or did his business himself back there and decided to tell me about in this fashion to pick up some cash. Great.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Haircut, etc.
Got home later than expected last night and decided to whip up some dinner. I could hear the whine of power tools from next door, so I called over to Julian, his dad and his uncle to see if they wanted something to eat. "Gracias," said Julian Sr.
So I made nachos for them and pasta for me (and Alberto, since it was still cooling on the counter when I left, I left a note saying "eat up if you're hungry.') I was late for my haircut appointment but Bella's niece was just leaving so I guess it all worked out OK.
Bella and I watched "Alborada," my favorite Mexican telenovela. Bella's husband Diego explained that the period is under Porfirio Diaz, so like 1915 or 1920. Diaz was a great admirer of France, which is why they are all running around in doublets and low-cut bodices. Diego thinks it's cheesy and "too emotional" but that's why Bella and Dawn and I like it!
After the show and the haircut I stayed around way too late watching television and chatting with them. There's another show, Ver para Creer, where they show all these believe it or not kind of things. Last night they showed a Peruvian girl who was born with both legs attached to each other, including the feet. She looked like she had a tail. Doctors were able to separate the legs up to above the knee, so she was able to walk. She's now 15 years old or something like that.
Diego told me a lot of the stereotypes about people from Monterrey, where my current Spanish teacher is from. They are supposedly very stingy. I'll have to tease him at class tonight. And I have to leave for class right now!!
p.s. the power of social networking--Bella and Diego say they know some friends who have 8th grade kids, so hopefully some application for the University of Chicago's new charter school will get into good hands.
So I made nachos for them and pasta for me (and Alberto, since it was still cooling on the counter when I left, I left a note saying "eat up if you're hungry.') I was late for my haircut appointment but Bella's niece was just leaving so I guess it all worked out OK.
Bella and I watched "Alborada," my favorite Mexican telenovela. Bella's husband Diego explained that the period is under Porfirio Diaz, so like 1915 or 1920. Diaz was a great admirer of France, which is why they are all running around in doublets and low-cut bodices. Diego thinks it's cheesy and "too emotional" but that's why Bella and Dawn and I like it!
After the show and the haircut I stayed around way too late watching television and chatting with them. There's another show, Ver para Creer, where they show all these believe it or not kind of things. Last night they showed a Peruvian girl who was born with both legs attached to each other, including the feet. She looked like she had a tail. Doctors were able to separate the legs up to above the knee, so she was able to walk. She's now 15 years old or something like that.
Diego told me a lot of the stereotypes about people from Monterrey, where my current Spanish teacher is from. They are supposedly very stingy. I'll have to tease him at class tonight. And I have to leave for class right now!!
p.s. the power of social networking--Bella and Diego say they know some friends who have 8th grade kids, so hopefully some application for the University of Chicago's new charter school will get into good hands.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Hope Under a Roof
The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof. --Barbara Kingsolver
Friday night Dawn and her family broke the big news. Dawn met me here at the office and told me she had a big surprise to tell me but she was saving it for the very end of the night. So I tried not to press too hard while we ate goat and chicken Puerto-Rican style at Casa Central and enjoyed a very funny play by Teatro Luna, an all-Latina ensemble, and even while we were freezing waiting for the train to get home. I only made a couple of guesses: you have a relative coming up from Mexico to live with you, did you buy a house??? She was very mysterious.
We were on the Ashland bus and I asked if she wanted to get off at 49th. "No, we can go to 50," she said. Hmmm... She got off and walked with me and we both took a left. I looked at the house next door to mine and all the lights were on.
"Did you guys buy...????"
They did. They bought the house for sale next door!! We went in and found them knocking down drywall and taking out walls to reconfigure the first floor. And yes, Dawn's mom is expecting. Wow, a house and a baby.
I drank a Bud with them to celebrate. "When you have a party, I'll call the cops," I teased.
"Then we won't invite you," her mom teased back.
"We're even!!"
They spent all day Sunday on demolition. Joey and his big brother came over covered in dust with some guy from down the street whose nephew was having an asthma attack. I got out a bag of ice and a friend who was over donated some Benadryl. As they were leaving Joey's brother said, "We're hungry."
So I made some more chicken (chicken breasts in lemon/brown sugar/rosemary sauce) and took over a big foil pan for them. "It's really good, Maritza," Dawn told me. I was teasing her and calling her an old lady since her hair was all grey with dust.
Yesterday you could hear them banging away. I've never been so happy to hear noise through the walls. This morning I found the Barbara Kingsolver quote among my emails and thought it was perfect.
Friday night Dawn and her family broke the big news. Dawn met me here at the office and told me she had a big surprise to tell me but she was saving it for the very end of the night. So I tried not to press too hard while we ate goat and chicken Puerto-Rican style at Casa Central and enjoyed a very funny play by Teatro Luna, an all-Latina ensemble, and even while we were freezing waiting for the train to get home. I only made a couple of guesses: you have a relative coming up from Mexico to live with you, did you buy a house??? She was very mysterious.
We were on the Ashland bus and I asked if she wanted to get off at 49th. "No, we can go to 50," she said. Hmmm... She got off and walked with me and we both took a left. I looked at the house next door to mine and all the lights were on.
"Did you guys buy...????"
They did. They bought the house for sale next door!! We went in and found them knocking down drywall and taking out walls to reconfigure the first floor. And yes, Dawn's mom is expecting. Wow, a house and a baby.
I drank a Bud with them to celebrate. "When you have a party, I'll call the cops," I teased.
"Then we won't invite you," her mom teased back.
"We're even!!"
They spent all day Sunday on demolition. Joey and his big brother came over covered in dust with some guy from down the street whose nephew was having an asthma attack. I got out a bag of ice and a friend who was over donated some Benadryl. As they were leaving Joey's brother said, "We're hungry."
So I made some more chicken (chicken breasts in lemon/brown sugar/rosemary sauce) and took over a big foil pan for them. "It's really good, Maritza," Dawn told me. I was teasing her and calling her an old lady since her hair was all grey with dust.
Yesterday you could hear them banging away. I've never been so happy to hear noise through the walls. This morning I found the Barbara Kingsolver quote among my emails and thought it was perfect.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Surprise Help
Last night I stopped at the Ashland Dominick's to pick up some groceries, got more than I had planned, and walked out with three bags hanging off each arm. While my half dozen blue Dominick's bags and I were waiting in the bus shelter south of Popeye's, a red minivan pulled up and a smiling young man inquired if I needed a ride.
"Hey, Sam!" I said. "How are you?" I met Sam a year ago in December at the Holy Cross rectory, at the inaugural meeting of the group for neighborhood college students. Sam hasn't been back to the meetings much, but I've run into him once or twice around the neighborhood. I remember best riding the Ashland bus with him early one morning (maybe 6:30 a.m.). He was surprised to see someone like me on the bus so early in the morning.
But now here he is in a shiny minivan, and I'm waiting for a bus that's not coming. I bundled up my bags and got in. Sam wanted to know how my writing was going, all about my latest stories, etc. I asked where he was coming from and he said Juarez High in Pilsen, where he had hoped to get in a swim, but they had a meet that night and the pool was closed. "Lucky for you," he said.
"Yeah."
Sam thought I lived at 55th, but I directed him to my place, which is a little north. "You have the nicest house on the block," he noted.
"Yeah, I do."
I asked him what he was up to. He just started his first job out of college, as a social worker helping people get public aid in Humboldt Park. He's only been at it about a month. "It's overwhelming, you know, and if you're a nice person, people will try to take advantage of you."
I asked what he really wants to do, and he said, "I want to write. Like you."
"Well, let's figure out how to get you some writing exposure," I said. I was going to talk with him a little more about this, but...
Yup-yup arrived on the scene, weaving down the street and rather jumpy, apparently high or hurting for a high, and certainly desperate for cash. "Oh, I can carry your groceries!" he offered/demanded.
Sam smiled. "OK,"I told Yup-yup. "Sam, I'll talk to you later." We agreed we'd connect through church.
Yup-yup got himself a couple of bucks and a bowl of Wolfgang Puck's chicken soup with wild rice for his trouble. His review of the soup: "Scrump-diddly-umptious!"
"Hey, Sam!" I said. "How are you?" I met Sam a year ago in December at the Holy Cross rectory, at the inaugural meeting of the group for neighborhood college students. Sam hasn't been back to the meetings much, but I've run into him once or twice around the neighborhood. I remember best riding the Ashland bus with him early one morning (maybe 6:30 a.m.). He was surprised to see someone like me on the bus so early in the morning.
But now here he is in a shiny minivan, and I'm waiting for a bus that's not coming. I bundled up my bags and got in. Sam wanted to know how my writing was going, all about my latest stories, etc. I asked where he was coming from and he said Juarez High in Pilsen, where he had hoped to get in a swim, but they had a meet that night and the pool was closed. "Lucky for you," he said.
"Yeah."
Sam thought I lived at 55th, but I directed him to my place, which is a little north. "You have the nicest house on the block," he noted.
"Yeah, I do."
I asked him what he was up to. He just started his first job out of college, as a social worker helping people get public aid in Humboldt Park. He's only been at it about a month. "It's overwhelming, you know, and if you're a nice person, people will try to take advantage of you."
I asked what he really wants to do, and he said, "I want to write. Like you."
"Well, let's figure out how to get you some writing exposure," I said. I was going to talk with him a little more about this, but...
Yup-yup arrived on the scene, weaving down the street and rather jumpy, apparently high or hurting for a high, and certainly desperate for cash. "Oh, I can carry your groceries!" he offered/demanded.
Sam smiled. "OK,"I told Yup-yup. "Sam, I'll talk to you later." We agreed we'd connect through church.
Yup-yup got himself a couple of bucks and a bowl of Wolfgang Puck's chicken soup with wild rice for his trouble. His review of the soup: "Scrump-diddly-umptious!"
Current Weather
Thanks to everybody, especially roommates past, who has offered me an ear while I vent and reflect on having taken on a roommate. Alberto was the first one home last night, got his shower done at a reasonable hour and we were both in our respective bedrooms by 10:30 or so after chatting over a cup of hot chocolate. And I got a decent night's sleep, for perhaps the first time since he moved in. This is more like what I was hoping for. So, signs of progress.
One thing that I didn't fully realize when I decided to give this a try is that it's really different when someone rents a room in a home you own versus when you share the rent on an apartment. There's a disparity of investment and ultimately a power differential here that I didn't really consider and I think he didn't either, since both of us have shared rentals with other people before, but I haven't had a renter in a space I owned and set up, and he hasn't ever been the renter in that kind of situation either. As a former roommate of mine pointed out to me, it's hard when a new roommate arrives and established routines have been set by the old one. The new one can feel like, hey, I live here too, and I split rent, don't I get some say in how routines work? The old one feels like, hey, this is how it's done around here.
I'm sure I feel that even more strongly in this situation than in a roommate transition, since I set up the house by myself and have always been the only one living here. Plus, we're not splitting equal amounts of rent--he's putting in less than 20 percent of my mortgage. I still think I could be in this house for 30 years; he might be here anywhere from three months to three years max. It really creates a different mindset for me in terms of what say he gets about what the common areas look like, especially since I just spent $1000 decorating the first floor. I'm not at all used to this in myself, which probably doesn't make it easier for me to set ground rules and expectations.
To his credit, Alberto is really rolling with this, probably better than I would if I were in his shoes. Yesterday morning at 7 a.m. (about 20 minutes after he woke me up playing the downstairs radio--he didn't have it on that loud, I'm just a really light sleeper and the house carries sound), I informed him that the carpets he had put down last week to provide a runner all the way to the back door were ugly and would have to go as soon as I had time to get a runner that matches what I have already. Perhaps it was a moment when he didn't understand exactly what I said, but he got the point. I got home last night and the rugs had disappeared. During the day I had been thinking OK, they can stay there and wipe up snow until spring, but I felt so much better when I saw they were gone I've decided not to say anything but thank you for moving them.
One thing that I didn't fully realize when I decided to give this a try is that it's really different when someone rents a room in a home you own versus when you share the rent on an apartment. There's a disparity of investment and ultimately a power differential here that I didn't really consider and I think he didn't either, since both of us have shared rentals with other people before, but I haven't had a renter in a space I owned and set up, and he hasn't ever been the renter in that kind of situation either. As a former roommate of mine pointed out to me, it's hard when a new roommate arrives and established routines have been set by the old one. The new one can feel like, hey, I live here too, and I split rent, don't I get some say in how routines work? The old one feels like, hey, this is how it's done around here.
I'm sure I feel that even more strongly in this situation than in a roommate transition, since I set up the house by myself and have always been the only one living here. Plus, we're not splitting equal amounts of rent--he's putting in less than 20 percent of my mortgage. I still think I could be in this house for 30 years; he might be here anywhere from three months to three years max. It really creates a different mindset for me in terms of what say he gets about what the common areas look like, especially since I just spent $1000 decorating the first floor. I'm not at all used to this in myself, which probably doesn't make it easier for me to set ground rules and expectations.
To his credit, Alberto is really rolling with this, probably better than I would if I were in his shoes. Yesterday morning at 7 a.m. (about 20 minutes after he woke me up playing the downstairs radio--he didn't have it on that loud, I'm just a really light sleeper and the house carries sound), I informed him that the carpets he had put down last week to provide a runner all the way to the back door were ugly and would have to go as soon as I had time to get a runner that matches what I have already. Perhaps it was a moment when he didn't understand exactly what I said, but he got the point. I got home last night and the rugs had disappeared. During the day I had been thinking OK, they can stay there and wipe up snow until spring, but I felt so much better when I saw they were gone I've decided not to say anything but thank you for moving them.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Hurricane drops to tropical storm
The National Weather Service is pleased to report that Hurricane Alberto's rating has been reduced to Tropical Storm Alberto, now that his stuff has been somewhat contained.
What a sense of karmic revenge we have here. To all the people who have lived with me over the last 20 years or so, thanks for all your patience with my lack of spatial organization, awkwardness with mechanical objects and inability to control my stuff. It is so ironic to see all these traits in another human being and to be irritated by them even as I empathize and recognize them in myself. I never thought I'd be the Felix in the Odd Couple, but here's my big chance to be as anal-retentive as I want to be. Whoo-hoo!
So, my cortisol levels dropped Saturday night after Alberto and his former roommate got the godawful bookcase out of the front entry and upstairs into his room. Sunday afternoon, Alberto got almost everything that didn't belong in the kitchen and dining area into appropriate storage and, at my request, moved my baking ingredients out of one pair of cabinets and into an almost empty one, so he would have a place to store dry food, spices, etc. I had to reorganize my own stuff afterwards and just shook my head in amazement at how he couldn't get it all to fit--a few turns of the boxes would have solved most of the problem (thanks, Carol, for teaching me better spatial organization by example!), but it wasn't too hard to pick up the pieces. And I even cleaned the refrigerator, a chore I hadn't ever done in the year and a half I've lived in my house. (Truly, I am no saint as a housekeeper and there is a plus to having another human being around--it's a great prod to tackle those long-undone chores.)
As the chore-fest wound down and Alberto prepared to leave and take a few more excess items away to be donated, I said, more to myself than anything else, "Man, I just swept the floor and I'm still stepping on stuff! I guess next weekend's task will be mopping the kitchen floor." I went out later with a friend and got back around 11 p.m. When I walked in the house I smelled cleaner. "Did he clean the bathroom?" I wondered, and then went back to the kitchen. He had mopped the floor.
We still have to get his ugly carpets out of the dining room and a few other things like that, and I'm not sure he's totally clear that he doesn't get to put his stuff anywhere he thinks it should go, but we have made great strides. And he's on a month-to-month lease. I made it very clear that I'm not sure I'm ready for a roommate (sort of the "it's not you it's me speech" in roommate-speak) and that I'll be checking in with him at a couple of points to let him know whether it's working for me. So, God bless him, he's still trying to impress me, even if it means he mops the floor but fails to empty the compost bucket I told him we wouldn't be able to use until spring, when I get the lead out of the back yard.
As the Weather Channel says, stay tuned for more updates on Tropical Storm Alberto.
What a sense of karmic revenge we have here. To all the people who have lived with me over the last 20 years or so, thanks for all your patience with my lack of spatial organization, awkwardness with mechanical objects and inability to control my stuff. It is so ironic to see all these traits in another human being and to be irritated by them even as I empathize and recognize them in myself. I never thought I'd be the Felix in the Odd Couple, but here's my big chance to be as anal-retentive as I want to be. Whoo-hoo!
So, my cortisol levels dropped Saturday night after Alberto and his former roommate got the godawful bookcase out of the front entry and upstairs into his room. Sunday afternoon, Alberto got almost everything that didn't belong in the kitchen and dining area into appropriate storage and, at my request, moved my baking ingredients out of one pair of cabinets and into an almost empty one, so he would have a place to store dry food, spices, etc. I had to reorganize my own stuff afterwards and just shook my head in amazement at how he couldn't get it all to fit--a few turns of the boxes would have solved most of the problem (thanks, Carol, for teaching me better spatial organization by example!), but it wasn't too hard to pick up the pieces. And I even cleaned the refrigerator, a chore I hadn't ever done in the year and a half I've lived in my house. (Truly, I am no saint as a housekeeper and there is a plus to having another human being around--it's a great prod to tackle those long-undone chores.)
As the chore-fest wound down and Alberto prepared to leave and take a few more excess items away to be donated, I said, more to myself than anything else, "Man, I just swept the floor and I'm still stepping on stuff! I guess next weekend's task will be mopping the kitchen floor." I went out later with a friend and got back around 11 p.m. When I walked in the house I smelled cleaner. "Did he clean the bathroom?" I wondered, and then went back to the kitchen. He had mopped the floor.
We still have to get his ugly carpets out of the dining room and a few other things like that, and I'm not sure he's totally clear that he doesn't get to put his stuff anywhere he thinks it should go, but we have made great strides. And he's on a month-to-month lease. I made it very clear that I'm not sure I'm ready for a roommate (sort of the "it's not you it's me speech" in roommate-speak) and that I'll be checking in with him at a couple of points to let him know whether it's working for me. So, God bless him, he's still trying to impress me, even if it means he mops the floor but fails to empty the compost bucket I told him we wouldn't be able to use until spring, when I get the lead out of the back yard.
As the Weather Channel says, stay tuned for more updates on Tropical Storm Alberto.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Hurricane Alberto hits my house
...OK, how did my house get hit by a hurricane in February? When it's a metaphorical hurricane, silly.
I just looked up the top 30 worst tropical storms of the last century to hit the United States. Hurricane Alberto was at or near the bottom of the list. Alberto struck in 1994.
"Alberto" is the code name I will use for my new roommate, who moved in Wednesday afternoon. He's a grad student at one of the innumerable seminaries sprinkled around Hyde Park, and he comes from one of those Latin American countries where political strife sent thousands fleeing some years ago. I was putting the word out at my holiday party that I needed a roommate, and he informed me he needed to get out of student housing. We originally met through Su Casa.
Well, he showed up a week earlier than expected--we said "the middle of February" and he was a week early. Plus, he has a *lot* more stuff than I expected. I discovered large chunks of it littering my first floor when I got home way too late on Wednesday night, and frankly was furious. I realize he's just moving in, but he does not get to invade my house with his crap! ;-)
Fortunately, I was staying overnight with a friend Thursday, so I left a note saying "you really need to get the stuff out of the living room and away from the front door before I get back Friday night." When I arrived last night, everything was gone except the bookcase right by the light switches at the front door, which was the thing I most wanted out of there. Alberto tells me he's going to move the bookcase today with a friend. Let's hope it's gone by the time I get home today, or there will be hell to pay.
Really, I'm much more mellow about this in person. It even made me laugh when he showed up at 11:30 p.m. carrying a couple of boxes of stuff on Wednesday night, except for the fact I had to get up at six the next morning for work. Tomorrow afternoon I'll have to lay down the law. I told someone yesterday I think this is going to be like dog training. There's a reason I don't have a dog.
I just looked up the top 30 worst tropical storms of the last century to hit the United States. Hurricane Alberto was at or near the bottom of the list. Alberto struck in 1994.
"Alberto" is the code name I will use for my new roommate, who moved in Wednesday afternoon. He's a grad student at one of the innumerable seminaries sprinkled around Hyde Park, and he comes from one of those Latin American countries where political strife sent thousands fleeing some years ago. I was putting the word out at my holiday party that I needed a roommate, and he informed me he needed to get out of student housing. We originally met through Su Casa.
Well, he showed up a week earlier than expected--we said "the middle of February" and he was a week early. Plus, he has a *lot* more stuff than I expected. I discovered large chunks of it littering my first floor when I got home way too late on Wednesday night, and frankly was furious. I realize he's just moving in, but he does not get to invade my house with his crap! ;-)
Fortunately, I was staying overnight with a friend Thursday, so I left a note saying "you really need to get the stuff out of the living room and away from the front door before I get back Friday night." When I arrived last night, everything was gone except the bookcase right by the light switches at the front door, which was the thing I most wanted out of there. Alberto tells me he's going to move the bookcase today with a friend. Let's hope it's gone by the time I get home today, or there will be hell to pay.
Really, I'm much more mellow about this in person. It even made me laugh when he showed up at 11:30 p.m. carrying a couple of boxes of stuff on Wednesday night, except for the fact I had to get up at six the next morning for work. Tomorrow afternoon I'll have to lay down the law. I told someone yesterday I think this is going to be like dog training. There's a reason I don't have a dog.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Home Depot Outing
Sunday afternoon I arrived at Su Casa just as three of the workers were headed out to the Home Depot at 72nd and Cicero. So I jumped in the car and went out there with them. They had a gift certificate or something that was only good at that location, so we couldn't go to our local one at 47th and Western. I expect to be checking it out very soon.
Getting there was a bit of a challenge. We went out 71st but it dead-ends into an industrial park at Pulaski, so we turned around and went south to 76th, just south of Daley College. That takes you to the back of the Ford City Mall shopping superplex, which never fails to astonish me in its size and complexity. I used to teach out that way, and Ford City was just an ordinary sort of mall then. Nowadays it's expanded and other retail has grown up around it to the point where I see how easily you could get lost in the consumerist shuffle. We took a parking lot safari to get to Cicero Avenue. Fortunately we could see the Costco from the parking lot and even got a glimpse of that nasty orange logo before we had to decide which way to turn. So, we made it, despite our best efforts to get lost.
I got my window screen fixing materials and Aaron got light bulbs, a cool screwdriver, and some other household goodies. He says he will help me replace the wire netting in the screen. (Yes, I am totally incomptent in all matters mechanical.) I looked into window treatments for my upstairs front bedroom but they all seem quite expensive. We'll see.
Su Casa is tracking their mileage on the car. Aaron said he'd check into helping me with the four-hundred-dollar brake job. I was hoping it would only be half that much. Let's hope those brake hold up for a good long while. But they are all so happy to have a functioning car it's pretty well worth it. And it got me to do an errand I'd put off for more than three months. Victory all around.
Getting there was a bit of a challenge. We went out 71st but it dead-ends into an industrial park at Pulaski, so we turned around and went south to 76th, just south of Daley College. That takes you to the back of the Ford City Mall shopping superplex, which never fails to astonish me in its size and complexity. I used to teach out that way, and Ford City was just an ordinary sort of mall then. Nowadays it's expanded and other retail has grown up around it to the point where I see how easily you could get lost in the consumerist shuffle. We took a parking lot safari to get to Cicero Avenue. Fortunately we could see the Costco from the parking lot and even got a glimpse of that nasty orange logo before we had to decide which way to turn. So, we made it, despite our best efforts to get lost.
I got my window screen fixing materials and Aaron got light bulbs, a cool screwdriver, and some other household goodies. He says he will help me replace the wire netting in the screen. (Yes, I am totally incomptent in all matters mechanical.) I looked into window treatments for my upstairs front bedroom but they all seem quite expensive. We'll see.
Su Casa is tracking their mileage on the car. Aaron said he'd check into helping me with the four-hundred-dollar brake job. I was hoping it would only be half that much. Let's hope those brake hold up for a good long while. But they are all so happy to have a functioning car it's pretty well worth it. And it got me to do an errand I'd put off for more than three months. Victory all around.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Su Casa Gets a Car
Yesterday morning we got the Su Casa Car back from Castro and Sons auto repair. The brake job cost $400. This is why I don't want to own a car, but I said I'd pay for insurance and repairs on their Ford Escort in exchange for occasional use of it.
The Castro son who runs the place now is a good guy. He had surgery last week and was supposed to be at home, but he can't stand lying around the house so he went to work. He showed us the nasty worn-out brake pads they replaced. Whew! Now the pedal doesn't go all the way to the floor when you push on it. That made for an interesting trip getting it over there, the morning after our last snowfall. Well, nobody got killed or even scratched in the process.
I'll be taking the car to Home Depot on Sunday to get a screen to replace the one that got cut up in the burglary attempt. Now you all know I'm not quick on the draw when it comes to some aspects of house maintenance.
The Castro son who runs the place now is a good guy. He had surgery last week and was supposed to be at home, but he can't stand lying around the house so he went to work. He showed us the nasty worn-out brake pads they replaced. Whew! Now the pedal doesn't go all the way to the floor when you push on it. That made for an interesting trip getting it over there, the morning after our last snowfall. Well, nobody got killed or even scratched in the process.
I'll be taking the car to Home Depot on Sunday to get a screen to replace the one that got cut up in the burglary attempt. Now you all know I'm not quick on the draw when it comes to some aspects of house maintenance.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Learning Spanish
I haven't written much about this here, but most of you reading this have heard me discuss my efforts to learn Spanish over the past year and a half. They have certainly been interesting.
First, a little background. I took a few months of Italian in junior high, then two years of Latin, then a lot of German in high school and college, to the point where I was really starting to get it. I even took a literature class for a semester beyond the language requirement. But then I got busy and that was the end of that. No further language study until I ran off to France in 1994 (a long story best saved for another time), with virtually no French. In six months of living there and taking a community college class I went from nothing to an introvert at a dinner party. It was where I learned how to function when you don't have much command of the language, which is at least as important as learning the target language itself.
When I came back to the states I tried to hold on to my French and to be bolder about speaking the little Spanish I did know. The French faded fast but teaching in Humboldt Park helped me get a little braver about saying basic things in Spanish. Later I took a beginner class in hopes it would push me to learn, but still to no avail.
Part of the reason I moved to this neighborhood was that I've learned I won't internalize a language unless I'm forced to. I do feel more pressure to learn Spanish than I ever have, but it's still easy to wimp out and let the kids translate. I read a lot--the papers, the local literary journal (a bit--it's a little advanced in its language for my understanding)--but I'm still pretty shy about speaking.
From April through December I was getting lessons with a tutor, which helped a great deal, but that got very complicated and I decided it was time to take a real live class. So now I'm studying downtown after work, at the extension campus of the National Autonomous University of Mexico. They think I'm a genius because I can talk, however halfassedly. And they see I have a head for grammar. So they've put me in a class that is pretty advanced, and in the first two weeks I've been hit with two new verb tenses I'm having trouble assimilating. Whew!
Here's the university's web site. Its Spanish acronym is UNAM (Universidad Nacional Autonoma de Mexico): http://www.cepechicago.unam.mx/information.html (in English, about their Chicago campus)
In Spanish--main site:
http://www.unam.mx/
More later...back to work...
First, a little background. I took a few months of Italian in junior high, then two years of Latin, then a lot of German in high school and college, to the point where I was really starting to get it. I even took a literature class for a semester beyond the language requirement. But then I got busy and that was the end of that. No further language study until I ran off to France in 1994 (a long story best saved for another time), with virtually no French. In six months of living there and taking a community college class I went from nothing to an introvert at a dinner party. It was where I learned how to function when you don't have much command of the language, which is at least as important as learning the target language itself.
When I came back to the states I tried to hold on to my French and to be bolder about speaking the little Spanish I did know. The French faded fast but teaching in Humboldt Park helped me get a little braver about saying basic things in Spanish. Later I took a beginner class in hopes it would push me to learn, but still to no avail.
Part of the reason I moved to this neighborhood was that I've learned I won't internalize a language unless I'm forced to. I do feel more pressure to learn Spanish than I ever have, but it's still easy to wimp out and let the kids translate. I read a lot--the papers, the local literary journal (a bit--it's a little advanced in its language for my understanding)--but I'm still pretty shy about speaking.
From April through December I was getting lessons with a tutor, which helped a great deal, but that got very complicated and I decided it was time to take a real live class. So now I'm studying downtown after work, at the extension campus of the National Autonomous University of Mexico. They think I'm a genius because I can talk, however halfassedly. And they see I have a head for grammar. So they've put me in a class that is pretty advanced, and in the first two weeks I've been hit with two new verb tenses I'm having trouble assimilating. Whew!
Here's the university's web site. Its Spanish acronym is UNAM (Universidad Nacional Autonoma de Mexico): http://www.cepechicago.unam.mx/information.html (in English, about their Chicago campus)
In Spanish--main site:
http://www.unam.mx/
More later...back to work...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)