Last Friday sparks started shooting out of the back of my laptop. The computer shop guys called last night to say the motherboard is toast.
This post is getting written on Medicine Man's machine (thanks again, Medicine Man), but posting may be sporadic until my computer situation is resolved. Thanks for your patience.
Despite a rumor I heard that revenge was being plotted in Jason Gill's death, as far as I know all has been quiet on this stretch of Marshfield Avenue. Please comment if you know something I don't.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Monday, May 05, 2008
Moms on the March
On Saturday morning, the Peace and Education Coalition of Back of the Yards held a peace march from 48th and Seeley, the block where Leticia Barrera was killed last Halloween, to Seward Elementary at 46th between Hermitage and Wood. About 125 people turned out. As usual, political representation was strong: Mayor Daley, Police Supt. Jody Weis, State Rep. Esther Golar, other state reps and senators, and Ald. George Cardenas.
Most importantly, Families for the Community came out to let those politicos know what it is like to be the parent of a child in our neighborhood. Many of these parents are single mothers working two jobs to support their families. They try hard to raise their kids right, but too often they are left alone to do the job by themselves. "We're not crackhead alcoholics," said Bridgeport mother Lisa Rivera, in a front-page Sun-Times story that ran last Friday.
Oscar Contreras of Catholic Charities Street Intervention wrote a reflection about these mothers' experience which Bridgeport mom Lisa Rivera read at the march. Here is an excerpt:
Yes we know what our sons and daughters have become but a mother will always love her child. Even when society says I've done a bad job and the time comes when, God forbid, they are taken from us whether by a judge or by their own bad choices, we will be the ones left to visit jail and graves. There isn't anything we wouldn't do to change what they have become but no matter what, we will never give up, just as God has never given up on us. His love and mercy are unconditional even though time after time we continue to disappoint him.
I have written before and will write again here about two-parent families who struggle to raise their children to be good people, only to see them slide down the slippery slope into gangs, drugs, jail and death. We talk a lot about how it takes a village to raise a child, but too often here I see the most successful families adopting a turtle-like strategy: keep your kids in the house, send them out of the neighborhood for school, keep your own nose clean and don't get involved. The problem is, that works.
Those who want to build a village have their work cut out for them. I wish
Most importantly, Families for the Community came out to let those politicos know what it is like to be the parent of a child in our neighborhood. Many of these parents are single mothers working two jobs to support their families. They try hard to raise their kids right, but too often they are left alone to do the job by themselves. "We're not crackhead alcoholics," said Bridgeport mother Lisa Rivera, in a front-page Sun-Times story that ran last Friday.
Oscar Contreras of Catholic Charities Street Intervention wrote a reflection about these mothers' experience which Bridgeport mom Lisa Rivera read at the march. Here is an excerpt:
Yes we know what our sons and daughters have become but a mother will always love her child. Even when society says I've done a bad job and the time comes when, God forbid, they are taken from us whether by a judge or by their own bad choices, we will be the ones left to visit jail and graves. There isn't anything we wouldn't do to change what they have become but no matter what, we will never give up, just as God has never given up on us. His love and mercy are unconditional even though time after time we continue to disappoint him.
I have written before and will write again here about two-parent families who struggle to raise their children to be good people, only to see them slide down the slippery slope into gangs, drugs, jail and death. We talk a lot about how it takes a village to raise a child, but too often here I see the most successful families adopting a turtle-like strategy: keep your kids in the house, send them out of the neighborhood for school, keep your own nose clean and don't get involved. The problem is, that works.
Those who want to build a village have their work cut out for them. I wish
Death Comes to Marshfield Avenue
It is with great sorrow that I report the death of 26-year-old Jason Gill, who was shot on his front porch around 11:30 p.m. on Saturday night. For the basics, here is a link to the Chicago Sun-Times story. Here's the Tribune story.
Here's what the articles won't tell you. Jason was the kind of young man who would wish you a blessed day. He was a short guy with a sparkly stud in each ear and the big smile he inherited from his mother. In a neighborhood where most kids don't make it through high school, he had graduated from Perspectives Charter Schools South Loop campus. The last I heard he was working for UPS.
Just last week I was bragging about him to somebody in a fancy downtown restaurant. His little sister was just admitted to the new Perspectives Math & Science Academy.
Yes, his family isn't perfect. I've seen some other young man on that porch with a can of malt liquor mighty early in the morning. I'm told one of his nephews got into a scrap last week with the young man who came back with a gun Saturday night.
Tio Hardiman from CeaseFire has it right: it's the small arguments that escalate and turn deadly, especially when young men have access to guns.
I'll post again to talk about a new effort in the neighborhood to promote peace.
Here's what the articles won't tell you. Jason was the kind of young man who would wish you a blessed day. He was a short guy with a sparkly stud in each ear and the big smile he inherited from his mother. In a neighborhood where most kids don't make it through high school, he had graduated from Perspectives Charter Schools South Loop campus. The last I heard he was working for UPS.
Just last week I was bragging about him to somebody in a fancy downtown restaurant. His little sister was just admitted to the new Perspectives Math & Science Academy.
Yes, his family isn't perfect. I've seen some other young man on that porch with a can of malt liquor mighty early in the morning. I'm told one of his nephews got into a scrap last week with the young man who came back with a gun Saturday night.
Tio Hardiman from CeaseFire has it right: it's the small arguments that escalate and turn deadly, especially when young men have access to guns.
I'll post again to talk about a new effort in the neighborhood to promote peace.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Today's March
Just a quick vignette from today's march for immigrant and worker rights:
As we were all walking down Jackson Boulevard, somewhere between Wacker and LaSalle, an older, bearded white guy on the sidewalk began taunting the marchers, who were cheering "Si se puede" (yes, we can) by cheering "USA! USA!"
A man and two women in front of me, all of whom appeared to be Latina/o and were wearing United Food and Commercial Workers t-shirts, smiled brightly at him and chanted back cheerfully, "USA! USA!"
For a brief instant, they all chanted "USA!" together.
Then the man, realizing his taunt had been defeated, switched to "Go home now!"
The three union workers smiled and walked on, cheering a few more "USA!USA!" chants. After all, that's the point, right?
As we were all walking down Jackson Boulevard, somewhere between Wacker and LaSalle, an older, bearded white guy on the sidewalk began taunting the marchers, who were cheering "Si se puede" (yes, we can) by cheering "USA! USA!"
A man and two women in front of me, all of whom appeared to be Latina/o and were wearing United Food and Commercial Workers t-shirts, smiled brightly at him and chanted back cheerfully, "USA! USA!"
For a brief instant, they all chanted "USA!" together.
Then the man, realizing his taunt had been defeated, switched to "Go home now!"
The three union workers smiled and walked on, cheering a few more "USA!USA!" chants. After all, that's the point, right?
Monday, April 28, 2008
School Spin on Community Violence
I'm taking a little time out today to give props to fellow blogger Alexander Russo
over at District 299, the blog about Chicago Public Schools. Alexander picked up an excellent point made by one of the many CPS insiders who comment on his blog, that the recent media coverage of youth violence has focused on the young people as Chicago Public Schools students even when the violent incidents did not happen on or near school grounds.
In an effort to support gun control, Mayor Daley and the Chicago Public Schools appear to have at least passively accepted, and possibly actively encouraged the media angle that links shootings and Chicago Public Schools together. Yet the gun control bills aren't going anywhere, and Alexander argues that the public image damage to the schools done by this association is much more long-lasting. Worth thinking about.
Scroll down the home page and check out the post "Why Is the Mayor of Chicago Destroying His Own School System? Why is the Press Letting Him?"
But I can't help throwing in a little local good news: looks like I have a second 8th-grader on her way to a high school other than Richards. She's got two options, Kennedy and the Perspectives Math & Science Academy. It'll be interesting to see which she chooses. She announced this over burgers at the Medici on 57th Street Saturday. Check back later this week for more, including our trip to the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago.
over at District 299, the blog about Chicago Public Schools. Alexander picked up an excellent point made by one of the many CPS insiders who comment on his blog, that the recent media coverage of youth violence has focused on the young people as Chicago Public Schools students even when the violent incidents did not happen on or near school grounds.
In an effort to support gun control, Mayor Daley and the Chicago Public Schools appear to have at least passively accepted, and possibly actively encouraged the media angle that links shootings and Chicago Public Schools together. Yet the gun control bills aren't going anywhere, and Alexander argues that the public image damage to the schools done by this association is much more long-lasting. Worth thinking about.
Scroll down the home page and check out the post "Why Is the Mayor of Chicago Destroying His Own School System? Why is the Press Letting Him?"
But I can't help throwing in a little local good news: looks like I have a second 8th-grader on her way to a high school other than Richards. She's got two options, Kennedy and the Perspectives Math & Science Academy. It'll be interesting to see which she chooses. She announced this over burgers at the Medici on 57th Street Saturday. Check back later this week for more, including our trip to the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Dorothy Returns
Time did not permit me to fulfill my non-promise to Dorothy about getting diapers or a 7-day el pass. I stayed at home today and worked until 3 p.m., then jumped on my bike and went to an event at Marquette Park, also for work.
By the time I got home it was nearly 8 p.m. From the earlier rains, my bike seat was wet and so was my butt. I sure wasn't going to the store now, but neither that nor the drizzle was going to stop Dorothy from coming back.
Maybe she won't ring if there are no lights on, I thought. So I ate my take-out falafel sandwich in the dark.
It was no good. Despite the pitch-black first floor, the doorbell still rang. I looked through the peephole. Yep, it was Dorothy. Go away, go away. a little voice in my head chanted. She rang the bell again.
Oh, hell. I dug my wallet out of my raincoat. I had broken a ten for the sandwich, so I gave her the five. "I didn't go to the store today, I was working. But at least you can get to your meeting tomorrow," I told her.
She asked me if I had stashed any diapers for her from before. I hadn't. Then she told me she soiled her pants this morning on her way somewhere.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I wish I had some to give you. This is a hard month for me."
I already forgot what she said as she was leaving. But I'm sure she'll be back again, well before any new income makes its way to my wallet.
By the time I got home it was nearly 8 p.m. From the earlier rains, my bike seat was wet and so was my butt. I sure wasn't going to the store now, but neither that nor the drizzle was going to stop Dorothy from coming back.
Maybe she won't ring if there are no lights on, I thought. So I ate my take-out falafel sandwich in the dark.
It was no good. Despite the pitch-black first floor, the doorbell still rang. I looked through the peephole. Yep, it was Dorothy. Go away, go away. a little voice in my head chanted. She rang the bell again.
Oh, hell. I dug my wallet out of my raincoat. I had broken a ten for the sandwich, so I gave her the five. "I didn't go to the store today, I was working. But at least you can get to your meeting tomorrow," I told her.
She asked me if I had stashed any diapers for her from before. I hadn't. Then she told me she soiled her pants this morning on her way somewhere.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I wish I had some to give you. This is a hard month for me."
I already forgot what she said as she was leaving. But I'm sure she'll be back again, well before any new income makes its way to my wallet.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Dorothy's Drop: It's Clean
The doorbell rang a few minutes ago. Thinking it was Dawn, I stashed my college beer mug full of freshly-poured Corona in the fridge and went to the door. It was Dorothy.
She didn't wait for me to get the outer door unlocked. "I went to my meeting. They dropped me today," she said proudly.
"Hunh?" It took me a minute, but then I realized what she meant. At first I thought she got thrown out or something, but she was saying she took a urine test. "And you came up clean?"
"Yeah." She smiled, face shining.
"Good job! That's great," I said, coming out the front door. "How do you feel?"
"I feel good."
She has to go back again on Friday. I think they'll test her again next week? Every four days? Something like that. The only thing she doesn't feel good about right now is her lack of reliable diapers/underwear. And she really needs a 7-day el pass to get around.
"You know that was my last five dollars, right?" I was lying. I cashed a check at the grocery store today and got some money, but this month is closer to more month than money than I have seen in quite a while, and I'm trying to hold the line somewhere. "Remember I said I was broke until May? I know my broke is not as broke as your broke," -she looked at me knowingly- "but it's trouble for me."
She took this pretty well, actually. Less crabby than yesterday, I think because she realized I wasn't thinking she was lying to me about how she was going to spend any money I gave her. The news of the clean drop did help my confidence about that.
By the end of our chat, I told her to stop by tomorrow night. If time and money permit, maybe I will get her a 7-day pass. "It's nicer now, I can ride my bike," I told her. But I didn't promise.
"You're doing great. Keep strong," I said as she was closing my gate.
"Thanks to you."
She left before I could say, "Nuh-uh, it's all you," but I thought it. If all it's taking for her to get clean is this half-assed kind of help, it really is all her.
She didn't wait for me to get the outer door unlocked. "I went to my meeting. They dropped me today," she said proudly.
"Hunh?" It took me a minute, but then I realized what she meant. At first I thought she got thrown out or something, but she was saying she took a urine test. "And you came up clean?"
"Yeah." She smiled, face shining.
"Good job! That's great," I said, coming out the front door. "How do you feel?"
"I feel good."
She has to go back again on Friday. I think they'll test her again next week? Every four days? Something like that. The only thing she doesn't feel good about right now is her lack of reliable diapers/underwear. And she really needs a 7-day el pass to get around.
"You know that was my last five dollars, right?" I was lying. I cashed a check at the grocery store today and got some money, but this month is closer to more month than money than I have seen in quite a while, and I'm trying to hold the line somewhere. "Remember I said I was broke until May? I know my broke is not as broke as your broke," -she looked at me knowingly- "but it's trouble for me."
She took this pretty well, actually. Less crabby than yesterday, I think because she realized I wasn't thinking she was lying to me about how she was going to spend any money I gave her. The news of the clean drop did help my confidence about that.
By the end of our chat, I told her to stop by tomorrow night. If time and money permit, maybe I will get her a 7-day pass. "It's nicer now, I can ride my bike," I told her. But I didn't promise.
"You're doing great. Keep strong," I said as she was closing my gate.
"Thanks to you."
She left before I could say, "Nuh-uh, it's all you," but I thought it. If all it's taking for her to get clean is this half-assed kind of help, it really is all her.
Warm Welcome Home
When I stepped out of the cab in front of my house last night, it was too hot for the jacket I was wearing. Everybody was out on the sidewalk enjoying the mild air. Seems like all the buds on the trees appeared last week, as did the white tulips in Dawn's yard next door.
"Maritza! Hi, Maritza!" the Bradys shouted from the other end of the block. Big Brady Girl came up to inquire about when we will be decorating cakes.
"Let me go put my suitcase down and I'll come back out in a minute," I said. Medicine Man was inside having dinner and reading the paper. I plopped my bags on the sofa, took off the too-warm jacket, and went back out.
I didn't spend time with that sofa again for about four hours.
First it was time to play volleyball with the Brady girls, get an update on the car wash (still in progress), look at report cards and decide when we are cake decorating. Saturday May 17 is cake decorating day.
Then Junior came out with a big folder of information from Golder College Prep. Most of it was in both languages but some things were only in English. We divided them up into things his parents could read and do on their own, which went in the right pocket of the folder, and things that were only in English or they might have questions about, which went in the left pocket. He has to go take a placement test on Saturday May 31.
"How do I get there?" he asked.
"Before then, maybe I can ride up there with your folks so you can all see where it is. Then you'll know the way."
Next, Angelito from next door paid a visit. We walked around the back yard. He liked circling one of the trucks on the parking pad. After a little while, his mom appeared in her back yard next door, unwrapped a lollipop and held it out to him over the fence. "Angel, ven!" she called.
He toddled over and took the lollipop. "If it falls out of his mouth, don't let him have it back," his mom advised me. Perhaps all my warnings about our lead-infused dirt have made a dent.
Then his mom asked if I would watch him for 15 minutes while she took a bath.
Sure, I agreed, knowing well it would be a lot longer than 15 minutes before I'd see her again.
We went back out front and Dorothy was there looking for five bucks for a one-day el pass so she could go to her meeting. "I've been sick. I missed the last four days," she told me.
"I'm almost out of money myself," I told her. (Although my kind of out of money is not like her kind, I'm closer to that kind of broke than usual.) We talked some more. I got cross. So did she.
It's warm now, I thought. I can actually get my bike out of the cellar and ride it places, so maybe I don't need that last five bucks for the bus after all.
"OK," I said. "Here's my last five bucks. Get an el pass."
She broke into a smile.
I looked around and Angel was gone. "Where did he go?" I asked Dorothy.
"Out back."
"Damn!" I said, running off. Angel was in the back yard wandering around again.
Later, when it was getting dark, Dawn and her boyfriend and School Lady's oldest daughter came back from checking out an early 90s Buick on sale for $300. I have finally come up with names for School Lady's girls--since there are four, they get the Little Women names. So Meg and I started chasing Angel around.
Then the ice-cream truck showed up and we went to check it out. Meg bought Angel an icie on a stick and offered to get me something, too. I took her up on it and had a small coffee ice cream cone. She got a red water ice in a paper cone.
Meg and I had a long chat about Lincoln's Challenge, a National-Guard-sponsored program that helps high school dropouts get a GED and a shot at college. It turns out Meg quit school a few months ago to work and help her mother. But she's not getting as many hours as she thought she would at her job--she's only working two to three days a week. Someone she knows from Chavez recommended she try Lincoln's Challenge, since you get done in five months and you can join the Guard afterwards to help pay for school.
This is all great except for two things: first, there's a war on and Guard units are getting called to Iraq; second, I've met quite a few kids who've tried Lincoln's Challenge but none who actually finished it. She says she did their taste-of experience with a lot of exercises and officers yelling, and it was OK with her. She promised she would ask a lot of questions about Guard service afterwards and how likely it would be that her unit would get called up. "I wasn't planning on that," she said of serving in Iraq.
Finally, after Dawn's boyfriend left, she and I had some time to talk. It turned out she missed school on Monday and was late to work on Tuesday. She didn't go to school Tuesday because she figured she would just get yelled at, so what was the point? She also sounded pretty discouraged and seemed to think she couldn't make up her work. We talked about her credits--she never did talk to her counselor at school--but she cheered up when I said her counselor told me she was in better shape on credits than some of their seniors.
Her mom was out at the grocery store, so we talked about a lot of things. It was almost 10:30 when she got home. Dawn and I were both beginning to worry. I had called her about 10 minutes earlier. When she came in she was laden with bags and said she couldn't get to the phone because she had too many things in her hands. I think her Mother's Day gift will be a grocery cart. Maybe we can share it--I don't know where mine is and I need one sometimes, too.
I got a text message from Dawn's principal this morning saying she had made it to school today. It's the ACT part of the Prairie State exams, so it was an important day to be there. Whew.
"Maritza! Hi, Maritza!" the Bradys shouted from the other end of the block. Big Brady Girl came up to inquire about when we will be decorating cakes.
"Let me go put my suitcase down and I'll come back out in a minute," I said. Medicine Man was inside having dinner and reading the paper. I plopped my bags on the sofa, took off the too-warm jacket, and went back out.
I didn't spend time with that sofa again for about four hours.
First it was time to play volleyball with the Brady girls, get an update on the car wash (still in progress), look at report cards and decide when we are cake decorating. Saturday May 17 is cake decorating day.
Then Junior came out with a big folder of information from Golder College Prep. Most of it was in both languages but some things were only in English. We divided them up into things his parents could read and do on their own, which went in the right pocket of the folder, and things that were only in English or they might have questions about, which went in the left pocket. He has to go take a placement test on Saturday May 31.
"How do I get there?" he asked.
"Before then, maybe I can ride up there with your folks so you can all see where it is. Then you'll know the way."
Next, Angelito from next door paid a visit. We walked around the back yard. He liked circling one of the trucks on the parking pad. After a little while, his mom appeared in her back yard next door, unwrapped a lollipop and held it out to him over the fence. "Angel, ven!" she called.
He toddled over and took the lollipop. "If it falls out of his mouth, don't let him have it back," his mom advised me. Perhaps all my warnings about our lead-infused dirt have made a dent.
Then his mom asked if I would watch him for 15 minutes while she took a bath.
Sure, I agreed, knowing well it would be a lot longer than 15 minutes before I'd see her again.
We went back out front and Dorothy was there looking for five bucks for a one-day el pass so she could go to her meeting. "I've been sick. I missed the last four days," she told me.
"I'm almost out of money myself," I told her. (Although my kind of out of money is not like her kind, I'm closer to that kind of broke than usual.) We talked some more. I got cross. So did she.
It's warm now, I thought. I can actually get my bike out of the cellar and ride it places, so maybe I don't need that last five bucks for the bus after all.
"OK," I said. "Here's my last five bucks. Get an el pass."
She broke into a smile.
I looked around and Angel was gone. "Where did he go?" I asked Dorothy.
"Out back."
"Damn!" I said, running off. Angel was in the back yard wandering around again.
Later, when it was getting dark, Dawn and her boyfriend and School Lady's oldest daughter came back from checking out an early 90s Buick on sale for $300. I have finally come up with names for School Lady's girls--since there are four, they get the Little Women names. So Meg and I started chasing Angel around.
Then the ice-cream truck showed up and we went to check it out. Meg bought Angel an icie on a stick and offered to get me something, too. I took her up on it and had a small coffee ice cream cone. She got a red water ice in a paper cone.
Meg and I had a long chat about Lincoln's Challenge, a National-Guard-sponsored program that helps high school dropouts get a GED and a shot at college. It turns out Meg quit school a few months ago to work and help her mother. But she's not getting as many hours as she thought she would at her job--she's only working two to three days a week. Someone she knows from Chavez recommended she try Lincoln's Challenge, since you get done in five months and you can join the Guard afterwards to help pay for school.
This is all great except for two things: first, there's a war on and Guard units are getting called to Iraq; second, I've met quite a few kids who've tried Lincoln's Challenge but none who actually finished it. She says she did their taste-of experience with a lot of exercises and officers yelling, and it was OK with her. She promised she would ask a lot of questions about Guard service afterwards and how likely it would be that her unit would get called up. "I wasn't planning on that," she said of serving in Iraq.
Finally, after Dawn's boyfriend left, she and I had some time to talk. It turned out she missed school on Monday and was late to work on Tuesday. She didn't go to school Tuesday because she figured she would just get yelled at, so what was the point? She also sounded pretty discouraged and seemed to think she couldn't make up her work. We talked about her credits--she never did talk to her counselor at school--but she cheered up when I said her counselor told me she was in better shape on credits than some of their seniors.
Her mom was out at the grocery store, so we talked about a lot of things. It was almost 10:30 when she got home. Dawn and I were both beginning to worry. I had called her about 10 minutes earlier. When she came in she was laden with bags and said she couldn't get to the phone because she had too many things in her hands. I think her Mother's Day gift will be a grocery cart. Maybe we can share it--I don't know where mine is and I need one sometimes, too.
I got a text message from Dawn's principal this morning saying she had made it to school today. It's the ACT part of the Prairie State exams, so it was an important day to be there. Whew.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Tattler Takes a Vacation
Marshfield Tattler is on vacation until April 23. See below for the 400th post.
Home Away from Home
Saludos from sunny Davis, California, where we have had no earthquakes, unlike Marshfield Avenue and the rest of Chicago.
Medicine Man sent me an email about it and I thought he was kidding.
However, thanks to the blessing and curse of the cell phone, the Marshfield Avenue advice hotline is still in service.
Junior called me up a few minutes ago, while I was browsing for a birthday card for my sister.
"Hey, Maritza, I got a letter from the school, but it says college," he said. "I'm going to high school, right?"
The name Golder College Prep had confused him, especially since we first talked to UIC College Prep. Then he wanted to know where it was. I remembered the address was 14-something West Superior, and with that hint, he found it on the letter.
I had a similar problem making sense of things yesterday. While riding the Capitol Corridor train to Davis and enjoying watching cattle drink from the marsh and even a pelican taking off, Joey's mother called.
It was loud on the train and she was speaking Spanish rapidly. "I can't hear because I am on the train," I said in Spanish. "Por favor, can you speak really slowly?"
She did. One word at a time. And I got it. She was telling me Joey's dad could take him to Marwen so Medicine Man didn't have to. Message received.
With that, Marshfield Tattler is on vacation until Wednesday April 23. Happy spring!
Medicine Man sent me an email about it and I thought he was kidding.
However, thanks to the blessing and curse of the cell phone, the Marshfield Avenue advice hotline is still in service.
Junior called me up a few minutes ago, while I was browsing for a birthday card for my sister.
"Hey, Maritza, I got a letter from the school, but it says college," he said. "I'm going to high school, right?"
The name Golder College Prep had confused him, especially since we first talked to UIC College Prep. Then he wanted to know where it was. I remembered the address was 14-something West Superior, and with that hint, he found it on the letter.
I had a similar problem making sense of things yesterday. While riding the Capitol Corridor train to Davis and enjoying watching cattle drink from the marsh and even a pelican taking off, Joey's mother called.
It was loud on the train and she was speaking Spanish rapidly. "I can't hear because I am on the train," I said in Spanish. "Por favor, can you speak really slowly?"
She did. One word at a time. And I got it. She was telling me Joey's dad could take him to Marwen so Medicine Man didn't have to. Message received.
With that, Marshfield Tattler is on vacation until Wednesday April 23. Happy spring!
Monday, April 14, 2008
Birthday Party
One of School Lady's daughters had a birthday today. Her big sister caught me just as we started the bike pump episode (see post below) to invite me over. "In about an hour and a half," she said. "We just put the meat on the grill."
The bikes got pumped, I did my shopping up by Roosevelt and Canal and the taxi driver didn't kill me on the Ryan coming back. (I'm in a hurry today so the taxi was worth it to get home that much sooner and go to School Lady's house.) Before shopping I thought I would stop at Barbara's Bookstore and find a book for her, but since I don't really know what she'd like, I decided to make a birthday card instead. When I got home, I made a birthday card by just drawing some colored balloons on a piece of white paper. Inside I wrote up my own gift certificate for one free book, which she gets to pick on a shopping expedition with me.
Over at the house, it looked like the gate to the back yard was locked, so I rang the front door. School Lady's youngest daughter answered and led me down the back stairs. That was the first time I'd been in past the living room. The room arrangement is a bit odd--living room, kids' bedroom, kitchen, back stairs. The parents' bedroom is to the right of the living room. The basement is rented out now; I don't know about the second floor.
When Iris read the card, she said, "Cool!" to the idea of going book shopping.
School Lady was out getting ears of corn at the store to put on the grill, but Mr. School Lady was grilling tortillas and the last bit of carne asada. There was a piece of meat left for me, with the last cebollita (little knob onion). There was even a teeny bit of spicy guacamole left and some rice. The oldest girl was with her mother at the store; the three younger ones, including the birthday girl, were playing soccer in the alley with their cousin. I talked a little with Mr. School Lady. He was surprised Dawn's mom hadn't come. (Later, School Lady confirmed she was meeting with people somewhere else. She has a lot of places to be these days.)
Quite frankly, most of the time I think Mr. School Lady is a shiftless bum. He had on a full set of clothes today--usually I go over and he's hanging around the house in a t-shirt. But maybe there's more to the story than I know. I think I heard he is on disability; if that's even true, what the disability is for I don't know.
To his credit, he said something today that I agreed with. His point, if I understood rightly, was that too many people around here spend all their time mired in their sad stories. Sometimes it's OK just to have some fun.
After I ate and watched Mr. School Lady feed the dogs tortillas, I went out to the alley and ended up playing goalie with the girls and their cousin for a little while. I think having me on goal partially evened out the unfair advantage the youngest had playing on the team with their cousin--a guy in his 20s or 30s, I'd guess. I blocked a few shots, anyway, and I think the birthday girl herself scored once while I had her back on goal. We rolled out some garbage cans to mark the goals, and when cars came we would just roll the cans back to the side to let the cars pass. It was getting too dark to see when we quit.
I never did get to eat the corn, but I did make it through half a large pickled jalapeno pepper. Thank goodness for tortillas with spicy food!
The bikes got pumped, I did my shopping up by Roosevelt and Canal and the taxi driver didn't kill me on the Ryan coming back. (I'm in a hurry today so the taxi was worth it to get home that much sooner and go to School Lady's house.) Before shopping I thought I would stop at Barbara's Bookstore and find a book for her, but since I don't really know what she'd like, I decided to make a birthday card instead. When I got home, I made a birthday card by just drawing some colored balloons on a piece of white paper. Inside I wrote up my own gift certificate for one free book, which she gets to pick on a shopping expedition with me.
Over at the house, it looked like the gate to the back yard was locked, so I rang the front door. School Lady's youngest daughter answered and led me down the back stairs. That was the first time I'd been in past the living room. The room arrangement is a bit odd--living room, kids' bedroom, kitchen, back stairs. The parents' bedroom is to the right of the living room. The basement is rented out now; I don't know about the second floor.
When Iris read the card, she said, "Cool!" to the idea of going book shopping.
School Lady was out getting ears of corn at the store to put on the grill, but Mr. School Lady was grilling tortillas and the last bit of carne asada. There was a piece of meat left for me, with the last cebollita (little knob onion). There was even a teeny bit of spicy guacamole left and some rice. The oldest girl was with her mother at the store; the three younger ones, including the birthday girl, were playing soccer in the alley with their cousin. I talked a little with Mr. School Lady. He was surprised Dawn's mom hadn't come. (Later, School Lady confirmed she was meeting with people somewhere else. She has a lot of places to be these days.)
Quite frankly, most of the time I think Mr. School Lady is a shiftless bum. He had on a full set of clothes today--usually I go over and he's hanging around the house in a t-shirt. But maybe there's more to the story than I know. I think I heard he is on disability; if that's even true, what the disability is for I don't know.
To his credit, he said something today that I agreed with. His point, if I understood rightly, was that too many people around here spend all their time mired in their sad stories. Sometimes it's OK just to have some fun.
After I ate and watched Mr. School Lady feed the dogs tortillas, I went out to the alley and ended up playing goalie with the girls and their cousin for a little while. I think having me on goal partially evened out the unfair advantage the youngest had playing on the team with their cousin--a guy in his 20s or 30s, I'd guess. I blocked a few shots, anyway, and I think the birthday girl herself scored once while I had her back on goal. We rolled out some garbage cans to mark the goals, and when cars came we would just roll the cans back to the side to let the cars pass. It was getting too dark to see when we quit.
I never did get to eat the corn, but I did make it through half a large pickled jalapeno pepper. Thank goodness for tortillas with spicy food!
'Wasting' Time
Here's to Zhou B. Cafe, where I spent much of the day getting work done. I can't work in the house in the afternoons because it would be much more fun to hang out with the kids on the sidewalk.
I got home around 5 today, and the first ice cream truck of the year was belting 'Turkey in the Straw' into the sunshine and still-chilly air. My next door neighbor to the south and one of her younger daughters were walking toward me when I got off the bus.
"It's too early for ice cream, isn't it?" I tried to say in Spanish, but I think I said the wrong word. I meant helado but I said hielo.
It didn't matter. She got the idea. "Yes, it's cold," she said. I had run into her late Friday night on the Ashland bus when she was getting off work and I was coming back from the North Side. She is still looking for college scholarships for her older daughter, who graduated with honors from Juarez but is a freshman at Harold Washington. (She applied for a UIC scholarship but didn't get it.)Anyway, when I saw her on the street I was reminded I had promised her contact info for Latinos Progresando, which has a group for students interested in college. I told her I would put it in one of the mailboxes on the gate in front of her house.
As I hurried home to take care of this errand on top of many others on my after-work list, I heard a voice behind me say, "Hey, can I use your air pump?" It was the kid from the block north of mine, the one who got in trouble when he came with us to the Museum of Science and Industry. We'll call him Tone-Loc, since he can get a little crazy.
"Ok," I said, inwardly sighing, "but I have to go to my house and go right back out again to the store, so it needs to be quick." Tone-Loc was pushing two bikes, one little green one and the other bigger with a giant stuffed teddy bear sitting on the seat. Somehow I ended up pushing the bigger one and the teddy fell off. A guy on the corner got us to look back. Tone-Loc got it.
I went in the house and got the pump. Tone-Loc's sister-we'll call her Alicia for no particular reason except it's not her real name--came over on her bike and started teasing her brother about the stuffed bear. Apparently he got it for some girl he likes but who won't go out with him.
"You can't just buy girls stuff," Alicia advised. "You have to spend time with them. He spends all his time with his boy friends."
"I do," Tone-Loc said. "Being cool." The two of them got into an argument and he told his sister to leave. Alicia went back to bike riding.
"Well, if you want this girl to like you, it probably is a good idea to spend some time with her," I said. "But you probably don't want your sister telling you how to do anything, right?"
"Right," he said, with a big grin.
I watched him carefully as he worked the air pump. He'd just done it the other day but I needed a review. I'm an idiot with mechanical objects and hadn't even tried to use the pump since a friend got it for me for my birthday. I held the wheel while he got the cap off one of the tires. Later I kept track of the caps while he pumped the tires full of air. We talked a little, but mostly I just watched and ran in and out of the house, getting the Latinos Progresando info from my computer and putting a card in my neighbor's mail box.
Maybe around three-quarters through the job, I was sitting on the step watching Tone-Loc when he said out of the blue, "Am I wasting your time?"
Ouch. Busted, I thought. How to save this one? "No, honey, you are not wasting my time," I said. "I'm watching you and learning how to use the air pump. Thank you for teaching me."
Hope I remember how that pump works. It will be time to take my bike out of the basement soon.
I got home around 5 today, and the first ice cream truck of the year was belting 'Turkey in the Straw' into the sunshine and still-chilly air. My next door neighbor to the south and one of her younger daughters were walking toward me when I got off the bus.
"It's too early for ice cream, isn't it?" I tried to say in Spanish, but I think I said the wrong word. I meant helado but I said hielo.
It didn't matter. She got the idea. "Yes, it's cold," she said. I had run into her late Friday night on the Ashland bus when she was getting off work and I was coming back from the North Side. She is still looking for college scholarships for her older daughter, who graduated with honors from Juarez but is a freshman at Harold Washington. (She applied for a UIC scholarship but didn't get it.)Anyway, when I saw her on the street I was reminded I had promised her contact info for Latinos Progresando, which has a group for students interested in college. I told her I would put it in one of the mailboxes on the gate in front of her house.
As I hurried home to take care of this errand on top of many others on my after-work list, I heard a voice behind me say, "Hey, can I use your air pump?" It was the kid from the block north of mine, the one who got in trouble when he came with us to the Museum of Science and Industry. We'll call him Tone-Loc, since he can get a little crazy.
"Ok," I said, inwardly sighing, "but I have to go to my house and go right back out again to the store, so it needs to be quick." Tone-Loc was pushing two bikes, one little green one and the other bigger with a giant stuffed teddy bear sitting on the seat. Somehow I ended up pushing the bigger one and the teddy fell off. A guy on the corner got us to look back. Tone-Loc got it.
I went in the house and got the pump. Tone-Loc's sister-we'll call her Alicia for no particular reason except it's not her real name--came over on her bike and started teasing her brother about the stuffed bear. Apparently he got it for some girl he likes but who won't go out with him.
"You can't just buy girls stuff," Alicia advised. "You have to spend time with them. He spends all his time with his boy friends."
"I do," Tone-Loc said. "Being cool." The two of them got into an argument and he told his sister to leave. Alicia went back to bike riding.
"Well, if you want this girl to like you, it probably is a good idea to spend some time with her," I said. "But you probably don't want your sister telling you how to do anything, right?"
"Right," he said, with a big grin.
I watched him carefully as he worked the air pump. He'd just done it the other day but I needed a review. I'm an idiot with mechanical objects and hadn't even tried to use the pump since a friend got it for me for my birthday. I held the wheel while he got the cap off one of the tires. Later I kept track of the caps while he pumped the tires full of air. We talked a little, but mostly I just watched and ran in and out of the house, getting the Latinos Progresando info from my computer and putting a card in my neighbor's mail box.
Maybe around three-quarters through the job, I was sitting on the step watching Tone-Loc when he said out of the blue, "Am I wasting your time?"
Ouch. Busted, I thought. How to save this one? "No, honey, you are not wasting my time," I said. "I'm watching you and learning how to use the air pump. Thank you for teaching me."
Hope I remember how that pump works. It will be time to take my bike out of the basement soon.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Violence Prevention, Large and Small Scale
Obviously there's been a lot of buzz in Chicago lately about youth and gang-related violence. It's ironic to me that all these people, including the Mayor, are crying about what to do, when they know something about what to do and its funding was cut.
I refer to Project CeaseFire, a public health initiative out of the University of Illinois Chicago that has been working since 1995 to reduce street shootings. On the web site, the history runs through 2006, when CeaseFire was established or getting started in 15 Chicago neighborhoods, plus other sites around Illinois.
What the site doesn't mention is that CeaseFire itself became a victim of the budget shootout in Springfield last summer. The agency lost $6 million in state money, which cut 140 violence prevention workers. This ABC story gives details. Although some alternate monies were found and some of those people even kept on working for free (I heard), getting the work done became a lot harder.
CeaseFire's executive director, Tio Hardiman, hit the crux of the problem on the head in an MSNBC story about the current wave of shootings and efforts to stop the violence. To stop shootings, he said, petty arguments have to be resolved quickly and peacefully. "There's really a dire need for more conflict resolution training."
That's the big scale. On the small scale, Thursday afternoon I happened to be inside the Chavez Upper Grade Center right around dismissal, at 1:45 p.m. One of Joey's teachers had offered to give him a ride to his first class of the new session at Marwen, so I went to confirm arrangements. After we were done, I came outside and found one of the girls from the next block up from my house waiting around for her brother. We agreed to walk home together.
Her brother came out with a big gaggle of other boys. His sister and I talked about school--she's learning about Native Americans and she and her classmates are rehearsing for a performance of Native American stories. We got about half a block ahead of the guys. I, being a clueless adult, was pretty focused on our conversation. She, being a smart kid, kept slowing down and making sure we weren't too far ahead of her brother and the boys I took to be his friends.
When we got south of the viaduct on Hermitage, their noise reached a new height and intensity. We stopped and turned around to find them forming the classic fight circle and saw her brother putting his books down and handing off his jacket.
She and I took off running. I was still in a skirt and heeled boots from being downtown that morning, so I must have looked pretty funny galumphing toward them and hollering, "Hey! What are you doing? Cut that out!" The northern half of the ring turned and ran back past the viaduct, disappearing from sight.
Fortunately, we got there before anybody took a swing. Her brother told me those boys had been bothering him all day long in school and everybody had been waiting to get out of there so they could settle it on the street. I tried to ask him if he thought it was over or if the problem would be back tomorrow, but it started to rain harder and he ran for his house's front door.
"Thanks for walking with us," his sister said.
I think about this and I think about a question I asked the Marshfield Avenue boxers one day as we were walking to Medicine Man's car. Peter Pan was bragging to me and the two or three other guys present about how the oldest Brady boy had just won a fight. I asked all of them, including Big Brady, if they knew other ways to settle an argument besides fighting. They all said no.
"Would you like to learn some?" I asked. Peter Pan looked at me with the classic "how sissy is that!?" kind of expression. Joey didn't say anything. Big Brady Boy actually said yes.
If anybody knows of some big tough guys who teach conflict resolution skills to preteen boys, send them my way, would you? Or maybe we just need to get back to boxing. I trust those guys to teach my neighbors how to save their punches for the ring.
I refer to Project CeaseFire, a public health initiative out of the University of Illinois Chicago that has been working since 1995 to reduce street shootings. On the web site, the history runs through 2006, when CeaseFire was established or getting started in 15 Chicago neighborhoods, plus other sites around Illinois.
What the site doesn't mention is that CeaseFire itself became a victim of the budget shootout in Springfield last summer. The agency lost $6 million in state money, which cut 140 violence prevention workers. This ABC story gives details. Although some alternate monies were found and some of those people even kept on working for free (I heard), getting the work done became a lot harder.
CeaseFire's executive director, Tio Hardiman, hit the crux of the problem on the head in an MSNBC story about the current wave of shootings and efforts to stop the violence. To stop shootings, he said, petty arguments have to be resolved quickly and peacefully. "There's really a dire need for more conflict resolution training."
That's the big scale. On the small scale, Thursday afternoon I happened to be inside the Chavez Upper Grade Center right around dismissal, at 1:45 p.m. One of Joey's teachers had offered to give him a ride to his first class of the new session at Marwen, so I went to confirm arrangements. After we were done, I came outside and found one of the girls from the next block up from my house waiting around for her brother. We agreed to walk home together.
Her brother came out with a big gaggle of other boys. His sister and I talked about school--she's learning about Native Americans and she and her classmates are rehearsing for a performance of Native American stories. We got about half a block ahead of the guys. I, being a clueless adult, was pretty focused on our conversation. She, being a smart kid, kept slowing down and making sure we weren't too far ahead of her brother and the boys I took to be his friends.
When we got south of the viaduct on Hermitage, their noise reached a new height and intensity. We stopped and turned around to find them forming the classic fight circle and saw her brother putting his books down and handing off his jacket.
She and I took off running. I was still in a skirt and heeled boots from being downtown that morning, so I must have looked pretty funny galumphing toward them and hollering, "Hey! What are you doing? Cut that out!" The northern half of the ring turned and ran back past the viaduct, disappearing from sight.
Fortunately, we got there before anybody took a swing. Her brother told me those boys had been bothering him all day long in school and everybody had been waiting to get out of there so they could settle it on the street. I tried to ask him if he thought it was over or if the problem would be back tomorrow, but it started to rain harder and he ran for his house's front door.
"Thanks for walking with us," his sister said.
I think about this and I think about a question I asked the Marshfield Avenue boxers one day as we were walking to Medicine Man's car. Peter Pan was bragging to me and the two or three other guys present about how the oldest Brady boy had just won a fight. I asked all of them, including Big Brady, if they knew other ways to settle an argument besides fighting. They all said no.
"Would you like to learn some?" I asked. Peter Pan looked at me with the classic "how sissy is that!?" kind of expression. Joey didn't say anything. Big Brady Boy actually said yes.
If anybody knows of some big tough guys who teach conflict resolution skills to preteen boys, send them my way, would you? Or maybe we just need to get back to boxing. I trust those guys to teach my neighbors how to save their punches for the ring.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Professional Development Day
Today is a professional development day in the Chicago Public Schools, so all the students have a day off. By about 10 this morning I could hear Peter Pan and some of the Brady Boys playing soccer. At about noon I took a lunch break and as a result, my neighbor Daniel got a little pre-high school professional development, too.
It was beautiful outside--a little breezy, noticeably warmer and sunnier, with bright blue patches of sky showing between shining clouds. The boys were playing soccer in the street, most of them in t-shirts. Joey had even rolled up his jeans into shorts.
Some Brady girls and the youngest Brady boys were on the sidewalk, and their mom, Peter Pan's mom and Joey's mom were out watching the scene. Mom Brady was with her kids; Peter Pan's and Joey's moms were chatting in front of Peter's house. Danny was talking with his dad in front of their house. His dad waved to me as he left, and I went across the street for a chat.
Danny went to Curie recently to register and begin the orientation process. This summer, all freshmen in CPS will spend four weeks at their new high schools, getting to know their teachers and classmates and doing a mix of teambuilding exercises and academic work. I asked Danny what he thought of the idea, expecting "yuck, summer school," but he surprised me. He said he was glad to get the chance to learn the building and get to know people before school started. "Otherwise, I might get lost," he said.
In a less happy surprise, Danny also 'fessed up today that his grades went down this quarter to all Cs. Since he got into Curie, he's been slacking off. He thinks he's in regular English for next year and I know he is smart enough to be in honors, even if his grades right now don't show it. I told him he needs to pull up his grades fourth quarter so he can make a case to Curie to put him in honors next year, especially in English. We strategized about how he could talk with his homeroom/English teacher about what happened in there. He thought he was getting a B. I told him when I taught high school, kids would come up to me and say, "Why didn't I get a B?" in a whiny tone and it got on my nerves. But when a kid said to me, "I don't understand what happened, and I want to do better next quarter," I would bust my butt to explain why they got the grade they did and talk about how to improve next time.
Danny wants to know what high school is like. We talked about honors and how it leads to AP classes and how AP classes can save you time and money in college. We also talked about Marwen, since Danny is a pretty accomplished graffiti artist. His ears perked up when he heard they help you think about colleges with arts programs and careers in art. I don't know whether their summer offering will conflict with the new CPS high school orientation--they probably will--but in the fall he'll be old enough to get around by himself so maybe that would be the time to get him signed up for an after-school class.
Then I asked him if he was reading anything for fun on his own, and he said no. "It's a really good idea to read on your own if you want to go to college," I told him. Then I went in the house and looked to see whether I had any good books. I had two contenders--one young adult novel written by a guy and left over from the book giveaway, the other Frank McCourt's Teacher Man. Danny wants to know what high school is like, and McCourt captures the feel of a high school classroom from the teacher's point of view better than just about anyone I know. So I brought it out.
Danny looked at the young adult novel first, read the jacket and handed it back. I wasn't surprised--it's kind of a white kid slacker-novel and I didn't like the writing style much either. While he looked that book over, I searched for a good scene in Teacher Man. I found the one where McCourt talks with Nancy, a Chinese student, about learning English, then segues into a scene when he worked in a restaurant kitchen and his fellow kitchen staff pressed him into teaching English. Danny thought that scene was pretty funny and guessed it must have taken place in the 50s based on how much money they were making. He was in the ballpark on that, for sure.
Then I let him in on a big secret. "You know, when you read a book for fun, you don't have to read it from the beginning to the end."
"You don't?"
"No. You can just skip around and look for things that seem interesting and skip the boring parts." He agreed to take Teacher Man back to his house and poke around in it for a week while I'm out of town. We'll talk about what he finds when I get back.
It was beautiful outside--a little breezy, noticeably warmer and sunnier, with bright blue patches of sky showing between shining clouds. The boys were playing soccer in the street, most of them in t-shirts. Joey had even rolled up his jeans into shorts.
Some Brady girls and the youngest Brady boys were on the sidewalk, and their mom, Peter Pan's mom and Joey's mom were out watching the scene. Mom Brady was with her kids; Peter Pan's and Joey's moms were chatting in front of Peter's house. Danny was talking with his dad in front of their house. His dad waved to me as he left, and I went across the street for a chat.
Danny went to Curie recently to register and begin the orientation process. This summer, all freshmen in CPS will spend four weeks at their new high schools, getting to know their teachers and classmates and doing a mix of teambuilding exercises and academic work. I asked Danny what he thought of the idea, expecting "yuck, summer school," but he surprised me. He said he was glad to get the chance to learn the building and get to know people before school started. "Otherwise, I might get lost," he said.
In a less happy surprise, Danny also 'fessed up today that his grades went down this quarter to all Cs. Since he got into Curie, he's been slacking off. He thinks he's in regular English for next year and I know he is smart enough to be in honors, even if his grades right now don't show it. I told him he needs to pull up his grades fourth quarter so he can make a case to Curie to put him in honors next year, especially in English. We strategized about how he could talk with his homeroom/English teacher about what happened in there. He thought he was getting a B. I told him when I taught high school, kids would come up to me and say, "Why didn't I get a B?" in a whiny tone and it got on my nerves. But when a kid said to me, "I don't understand what happened, and I want to do better next quarter," I would bust my butt to explain why they got the grade they did and talk about how to improve next time.
Danny wants to know what high school is like. We talked about honors and how it leads to AP classes and how AP classes can save you time and money in college. We also talked about Marwen, since Danny is a pretty accomplished graffiti artist. His ears perked up when he heard they help you think about colleges with arts programs and careers in art. I don't know whether their summer offering will conflict with the new CPS high school orientation--they probably will--but in the fall he'll be old enough to get around by himself so maybe that would be the time to get him signed up for an after-school class.
Then I asked him if he was reading anything for fun on his own, and he said no. "It's a really good idea to read on your own if you want to go to college," I told him. Then I went in the house and looked to see whether I had any good books. I had two contenders--one young adult novel written by a guy and left over from the book giveaway, the other Frank McCourt's Teacher Man. Danny wants to know what high school is like, and McCourt captures the feel of a high school classroom from the teacher's point of view better than just about anyone I know. So I brought it out.
Danny looked at the young adult novel first, read the jacket and handed it back. I wasn't surprised--it's kind of a white kid slacker-novel and I didn't like the writing style much either. While he looked that book over, I searched for a good scene in Teacher Man. I found the one where McCourt talks with Nancy, a Chinese student, about learning English, then segues into a scene when he worked in a restaurant kitchen and his fellow kitchen staff pressed him into teaching English. Danny thought that scene was pretty funny and guessed it must have taken place in the 50s based on how much money they were making. He was in the ballpark on that, for sure.
Then I let him in on a big secret. "You know, when you read a book for fun, you don't have to read it from the beginning to the end."
"You don't?"
"No. You can just skip around and look for things that seem interesting and skip the boring parts." He agreed to take Teacher Man back to his house and poke around in it for a week while I'm out of town. We'll talk about what he finds when I get back.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Dorothy's Got Mail
Something from DHS and something that looked kind of personal. At least the outside was handwritten.
Of course, she's not staying on the block now, and I've been out of town, downtown, uptown, all over town. Anywhere but here. I may have to try to chase her down on 49th and whatever before I hit the road again next week.
Too bad she doesn't have Internet.
Of course, she's not staying on the block now, and I've been out of town, downtown, uptown, all over town. Anywhere but here. I may have to try to chase her down on 49th and whatever before I hit the road again next week.
Too bad she doesn't have Internet.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Dorothy and Yup-yup have moved
They are not in the same place, I gather. Dorothy does not like where she landed and is trying to find someplace else.
It looks to me like Yup-yup is trying to break back into the empty house for the third or fourth time. He moved elsewhere about a week ago, but he was back on the block Friday walking toward his old digs with purpose.
It looks to me like Yup-yup is trying to break back into the empty house for the third or fourth time. He moved elsewhere about a week ago, but he was back on the block Friday walking toward his old digs with purpose.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
It's Raining Rats and Dogs
Around 4:30 today I heard skates on the sidewalk and decided to take a break. Two Brady girls and a little Brady brother were out there. The girls had roller blades and the little boy had a Big Wheel-style trike.
Despite the slight drizzle, I was ready for some exercise. They wanted to play tag. We played something sort of between tag and cops and robbers. When you got tagged, you had to go to jail. Little Brady Boy grabbed my arm tight and kept a strong hold on it while pedaling his Big Wheel up to my house, which had been declared the jail. Once whoever was It had captured the other three of us, we were all released and the first one captured took over as It.
Eventually older Brady girl wore out. "I'm tired," she said. (Yay, I thought. I had been checking my watch. I don't run much any more.) We pooped out on my front steps, then I realized I probably had a tennis ball left in the closet with which to play two-square. So I went in the house and dug the last tennis ball out of the can in the bottom of the utility closet.
When I came back out, nobody was there. "Oh, where did everybody go?" I yelled, playing along. I went out back and Little Brady's trike was there. At first I thought maybe they had faked me out and gone down the block, but of course they were all crouched under the stairs, against the basement door.
So then we went back out front and played two-square. Brady Boy found a stick and wanted to try to hit the ball, so we switched over to baseball. I thought that would be a better game to play in the vacant lot at the south end of the block, so we all went down there. Now I know who fixed up the lot, thanks to older Brady girl--her family, Peter Pan's family and a third family down there went in and cleaned it up. They put some old carpets down to make goals for soccer. People still keep dumping trash in there, though. There's a little cluster of dumpsters up by the sidewalk, and further back somebody left their Christmas tree on the ground. But there was plenty of unobstructed room for batting practice.
We all batted and pitched. Little Brady Boy was the best batter. I was the best pitcher. Some of the pitches were pretty wild. Younger Brady girl almost hit me in the head! It landed on my shoulder instead.
Suddenly the rain started coming more heavily. "Let's get you guys under your porch," I suggested. We were about to cross the street and go back to their house when older Brady girl spotted a dead rat in the gutter. "Eeeuw!"
Of course her little brother went right for it with his stick. "No, let's not do that," I said, laughing.
He laughed, too, and stopped. Whew.
"You know when it's raining really hard, my teacher told us they say it's raining cats and dogs," his sister commented.
"I guess it's raining rats and dogs now."
Despite the slight drizzle, I was ready for some exercise. They wanted to play tag. We played something sort of between tag and cops and robbers. When you got tagged, you had to go to jail. Little Brady Boy grabbed my arm tight and kept a strong hold on it while pedaling his Big Wheel up to my house, which had been declared the jail. Once whoever was It had captured the other three of us, we were all released and the first one captured took over as It.
Eventually older Brady girl wore out. "I'm tired," she said. (Yay, I thought. I had been checking my watch. I don't run much any more.) We pooped out on my front steps, then I realized I probably had a tennis ball left in the closet with which to play two-square. So I went in the house and dug the last tennis ball out of the can in the bottom of the utility closet.
When I came back out, nobody was there. "Oh, where did everybody go?" I yelled, playing along. I went out back and Little Brady's trike was there. At first I thought maybe they had faked me out and gone down the block, but of course they were all crouched under the stairs, against the basement door.
So then we went back out front and played two-square. Brady Boy found a stick and wanted to try to hit the ball, so we switched over to baseball. I thought that would be a better game to play in the vacant lot at the south end of the block, so we all went down there. Now I know who fixed up the lot, thanks to older Brady girl--her family, Peter Pan's family and a third family down there went in and cleaned it up. They put some old carpets down to make goals for soccer. People still keep dumping trash in there, though. There's a little cluster of dumpsters up by the sidewalk, and further back somebody left their Christmas tree on the ground. But there was plenty of unobstructed room for batting practice.
We all batted and pitched. Little Brady Boy was the best batter. I was the best pitcher. Some of the pitches were pretty wild. Younger Brady girl almost hit me in the head! It landed on my shoulder instead.
Suddenly the rain started coming more heavily. "Let's get you guys under your porch," I suggested. We were about to cross the street and go back to their house when older Brady girl spotted a dead rat in the gutter. "Eeeuw!"
Of course her little brother went right for it with his stick. "No, let's not do that," I said, laughing.
He laughed, too, and stopped. Whew.
"You know when it's raining really hard, my teacher told us they say it's raining cats and dogs," his sister commented.
"I guess it's raining rats and dogs now."
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
LiveBlogging: Medicine Man Helps with Homework
Thank God for Medicine Man! Junior has to do some science homework about the periodic table and atomic numbers. I have a deadline and I don't remember a thing about this stuff, so Medicine Mas has stepped up to the plate.
MM:What is that one?
J: 17
What's the name?
J:Curine?
MM: Chlorine.
[Another one.]
Oscar: Chromium?
MM: Chromium. It's a heavy metal.
MM: What would the next one be?
Oscar: Cu?
Yeah, copper.
[later]
MM: Chemical symbol is just another way to say abbreviation.
MM: What if I told you alumnium is a metal? [He picks up a Coke can.] It's made of a very very light metal.
All these boxes, all these elements can be found in nature every day. We're made of elements.
Oscar: You said that's made of metal. Gold..that's kind of hard to squish. How come this is easier.
MM: Not all metals are hard. Some metals are harder than others. If this were made out of steel, it would be hard to crush. Aluminum is a softer, more pliable metal.
OK, now I have to get to work. Big props and a big shout out to Medicine Man!
MM:What is that one?
J: 17
What's the name?
J:Curine?
MM: Chlorine.
[Another one.]
Oscar: Chromium?
MM: Chromium. It's a heavy metal.
MM: What would the next one be?
Oscar: Cu?
Yeah, copper.
[later]
MM: Chemical symbol is just another way to say abbreviation.
MM: What if I told you alumnium is a metal? [He picks up a Coke can.] It's made of a very very light metal.
All these boxes, all these elements can be found in nature every day. We're made of elements.
Oscar: You said that's made of metal. Gold..that's kind of hard to squish. How come this is easier.
MM: Not all metals are hard. Some metals are harder than others. If this were made out of steel, it would be hard to crush. Aluminum is a softer, more pliable metal.
OK, now I have to get to work. Big props and a big shout out to Medicine Man!
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Seen from the Ashland Bus
On Ashland Avenue just south of 57th, there's a billboard marking the spot where a development of senior housing will be going up eventually. The billboard features a photo of Ald. JoAnn Thompson and some happy phrase about partnering with the Mayor, if memory serves.
What struck me was the big yellow "Uncle Tom" spray painted over her face.
When she won, she was the opposition. My question is: Who's the opposition now?
What struck me was the big yellow "Uncle Tom" spray painted over her face.
When she won, she was the opposition. My question is: Who's the opposition now?
Monday, March 31, 2008
Principal Valerie Brown Wins Neighborhood Leadership Award
Well, it wasn't the Hyatt, and Bill Daley wasn't there, but five Neighborhood Housing Services local advisory board members had dinner with Principal Valerie Brown of Hamline Elementary to honor her with the 2008 NHS Neighborhood Leadership Award for Back of the Yards/Garfield Boulevard.
Oscar Contreras invited the guys who play basketball in the Hamline gym on Tuesday nights to join us. About eight or 10 young men came up to the former kindergarten room where Principal Brown was once a teacher for steak fajitas, rice and beans and pork in a red sauce from Nuevo Leon. Two of the young men are recent graduates of Second Chance Alternative High School.
Before dinner, Oscar presented Ms. Brown with the official award plaque and she said a few words. "God put us on this earth for a reason, and it wasn't to serve ourselves. It's to serve others," she said. "Just the way a priest opens his church, so should principals open their doors to the community."
Especially in an area like East of Ashland, where community gathering places are few and far between. "I know that without Hamline, there's nothing here," Brown said. She's pretty much right. "I know this community better than I know where I live, because I spend all my time over here," she added. She's been doing that for about 30 years now. She even learned Spanish so she could communicate better with parents and community members.
Over dinner, I heard there's some interest in the NHS board's effort to jumpstart block clubs around the neighborhood. We'll see what comes of that.
Oscar Contreras invited the guys who play basketball in the Hamline gym on Tuesday nights to join us. About eight or 10 young men came up to the former kindergarten room where Principal Brown was once a teacher for steak fajitas, rice and beans and pork in a red sauce from Nuevo Leon. Two of the young men are recent graduates of Second Chance Alternative High School.
Before dinner, Oscar presented Ms. Brown with the official award plaque and she said a few words. "God put us on this earth for a reason, and it wasn't to serve ourselves. It's to serve others," she said. "Just the way a priest opens his church, so should principals open their doors to the community."
Especially in an area like East of Ashland, where community gathering places are few and far between. "I know that without Hamline, there's nothing here," Brown said. She's pretty much right. "I know this community better than I know where I live, because I spend all my time over here," she added. She's been doing that for about 30 years now. She even learned Spanish so she could communicate better with parents and community members.
Over dinner, I heard there's some interest in the NHS board's effort to jumpstart block clubs around the neighborhood. We'll see what comes of that.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Secrets of a Successful Beat Meeting
On Thursday night, less than two hours after the announcement that that a suspect had been arrested in the murder of Leticia Barrera, about 20 people from the beat where she lived and died were sitting down in St. Michael's school cafeteria with their local police officers.
"When somebody does something, you guys follow through. Thanks for providing that confidence," said beat facilitator Marina Alonso, who doubles as Hedges Elementary School's parent coordinator.
Unlike every other beat meeting I have attended in Back of the Yards so far, this one has a steady facilitator who has developed strong relationships with the people who live in the beat. Alonso also draws up each month's agenda and stays in contact with the police between meetings to make sure that community needs are being addressed.
This month the community also thanked the police for retaking control of St. Michael's gym, which had been overrun by gang members openly representing and trying to recruit. We could hear the excited shouts and dribbling coming from the gym while the meeting went on.
The feel of the meeting was very different from others I have attended. The police were engaged in the conversation, not just sitting there talking among themselves or looking anywhere but at the residents. There seemed to be real dialog between residents and officers, not just residents making requests or giving their complaints.
The police also seemed much less defensive and more interested in residents' perspective here than elsewhere. For example, near the end of the meeting a female officer present said, "The mothers I've dealt with are helpless. They don't know what their kids are doing. Ninety-nine percent of them are lovely people, but their kids are lost." She wanted to know what is being done to help and educate parents so they can better monitor their children's activities. "These kids are someone's kids. Is there any way someone can educate the parents?"
Oscar Contreras, who works with youth and with parents to prevent gang violence, told her about a parents' group now meeting at St. John of God, 51st & Elizabeth, every other Saturday. Mothers there support each other in their efforts to help their children stay out of trouble and leave gangs if they have already become involved.
"That's great," the officer responded.
After the meeting, Alonso told me that the attendance Thursday was lower than usual because they had parent workshops at Hedges. Many of those who did attend had been at school most of the day already. Their stamina was rewarded with a stack of Little Caesar's pizzas afterwards. During pizza time, Alonso carried her granddaughter over her shoulder and chatted with other moms and grandmoms present. She always makes herself informally after the meeting to pick up sensitive information people might not want to give out in public.
Both she and Contreras credited residents for their courage in stepping forward with information that led to the arrest in the Barrera murder.
"The community came together," Contreras noted. Apparently, someone at the press conference questioned the significance of one arrest in a city full of violent crime. To the naysayer, Contreras said, "It is a big deal. It brings closure."
It also increases the community's trust that the police will come through. During the winter, after the news reports about the killing had died down and before there was much evidence beyond what security cameras in the area had been able to capture, 9th district officer Eric Wier met with residents and told them he felt "ashamed" that the case had stalled, Contreras told me. Wier vowed to keep the case moving forward, and "he fulfilled his promise."
For more on Wier, see the Sun-Times article here.
"When somebody does something, you guys follow through. Thanks for providing that confidence," said beat facilitator Marina Alonso, who doubles as Hedges Elementary School's parent coordinator.
Unlike every other beat meeting I have attended in Back of the Yards so far, this one has a steady facilitator who has developed strong relationships with the people who live in the beat. Alonso also draws up each month's agenda and stays in contact with the police between meetings to make sure that community needs are being addressed.
This month the community also thanked the police for retaking control of St. Michael's gym, which had been overrun by gang members openly representing and trying to recruit. We could hear the excited shouts and dribbling coming from the gym while the meeting went on.
The feel of the meeting was very different from others I have attended. The police were engaged in the conversation, not just sitting there talking among themselves or looking anywhere but at the residents. There seemed to be real dialog between residents and officers, not just residents making requests or giving their complaints.
The police also seemed much less defensive and more interested in residents' perspective here than elsewhere. For example, near the end of the meeting a female officer present said, "The mothers I've dealt with are helpless. They don't know what their kids are doing. Ninety-nine percent of them are lovely people, but their kids are lost." She wanted to know what is being done to help and educate parents so they can better monitor their children's activities. "These kids are someone's kids. Is there any way someone can educate the parents?"
Oscar Contreras, who works with youth and with parents to prevent gang violence, told her about a parents' group now meeting at St. John of God, 51st & Elizabeth, every other Saturday. Mothers there support each other in their efforts to help their children stay out of trouble and leave gangs if they have already become involved.
"That's great," the officer responded.
After the meeting, Alonso told me that the attendance Thursday was lower than usual because they had parent workshops at Hedges. Many of those who did attend had been at school most of the day already. Their stamina was rewarded with a stack of Little Caesar's pizzas afterwards. During pizza time, Alonso carried her granddaughter over her shoulder and chatted with other moms and grandmoms present. She always makes herself informally after the meeting to pick up sensitive information people might not want to give out in public.
Both she and Contreras credited residents for their courage in stepping forward with information that led to the arrest in the Barrera murder.
"The community came together," Contreras noted. Apparently, someone at the press conference questioned the significance of one arrest in a city full of violent crime. To the naysayer, Contreras said, "It is a big deal. It brings closure."
It also increases the community's trust that the police will come through. During the winter, after the news reports about the killing had died down and before there was much evidence beyond what security cameras in the area had been able to capture, 9th district officer Eric Wier met with residents and told them he felt "ashamed" that the case had stalled, Contreras told me. Wier vowed to keep the case moving forward, and "he fulfilled his promise."
For more on Wier, see the Sun-Times article here.
Friday, March 28, 2008
A Tale of Two News Stories
Today's Trib has a long feature on the murder of Leticia Barrera and the efforts made to find her killers. So does the Sun Times. Of the two, the Sun-Times does a much better job of detailing the efforts the police and community made to work together.
Read it here.
I also appreciate this quote, in the Tribune story, from new police superintendent Jody Weis:
"This case would not have been solved as quickly without those witnesses and the support of the community," Weis said at a news conference at police headquarters. "When someone in the community knows something or sees something, their voice is more powerful than a gangbanger's gun."
I was privileged to attend the beat meeting in the Barrera family's beat last night and heard some of the story behind the story of how the community stepped up to work with police. It was also clearly the best organized beat meeting I've visited, ever.
Watch for a post in more detail tomorrow.
Read it here.
I also appreciate this quote, in the Tribune story, from new police superintendent Jody Weis:
"This case would not have been solved as quickly without those witnesses and the support of the community," Weis said at a news conference at police headquarters. "When someone in the community knows something or sees something, their voice is more powerful than a gangbanger's gun."
I was privileged to attend the beat meeting in the Barrera family's beat last night and heard some of the story behind the story of how the community stepped up to work with police. It was also clearly the best organized beat meeting I've visited, ever.
Watch for a post in more detail tomorrow.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Suspect Arrrested in Halloween Murder
I was told earlier today that there would be a press conference at 4:30 this afternoon to announce that someone had been arrested in connection with the murder of Leticia Barrera on Halloween. If you forgot the details of the murder on Halloween at 48th and Seeley, see the Channel 2 story here.
Congratulations to Commander Eugene Roy and the police officers of the 9th district, who I am told did most of the legwork to find the suspect. I would also offer my congratulations to everyone in the community who helped the police with information and tips. At last week's Peace and Education Coalition meeting, the word was that they were close to a suspect and there was a pitch for contributions to increase the reward for information. I don't know if that did the trick or what, but whatever and whoever helped identify a legitimate suspect in the case deserves thanks.
I don't see any news on this yet, but will keep an eye out and link to any reports. Also, I really hope Mayor Daley makes as much noise to thank the community for bringing this information to light as he made critical noises in the immediate wake of the shooting. It takes a great deal of courage and faith to make information like this available to the police and the fact that someone did should not pass without notice.
Congratulations to Commander Eugene Roy and the police officers of the 9th district, who I am told did most of the legwork to find the suspect. I would also offer my congratulations to everyone in the community who helped the police with information and tips. At last week's Peace and Education Coalition meeting, the word was that they were close to a suspect and there was a pitch for contributions to increase the reward for information. I don't know if that did the trick or what, but whatever and whoever helped identify a legitimate suspect in the case deserves thanks.
I don't see any news on this yet, but will keep an eye out and link to any reports. Also, I really hope Mayor Daley makes as much noise to thank the community for bringing this information to light as he made critical noises in the immediate wake of the shooting. It takes a great deal of courage and faith to make information like this available to the police and the fact that someone did should not pass without notice.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Hey, Kids--Get a Summer Job!
It's that time again--time to start thinking about summer jobs. The city's summer jobs program for young people, now known as Kidstart, is taking applications. Here's what I heard from my pal on 49th and Hermitage:
Here is a link for all CPS students, ages 14-21 for an opportunity to get a summer job. I know that all our neighborhood children are always on the look out for a job.
I think that being level headed and always having some type of responsibility (job) is the key to getting ahead especially when you live in a neighborhood like ours. Well maybe i can just speak for myself but that was actually the key factor for me to have stayed away from trouble and all the negative influences that were actually more visible in the past. Anyway hopefully we can help out as many kids stay level headed and hopefully make something of themselves.
For more information, you can call the summer jobs hotline at 773-553-JOBS. Some of the kinds of jobs available are coach, tutor, nutrition aide and even journalist.
Applications are due April 25, so get on it now--don't wait!
Here is a link for all CPS students, ages 14-21 for an opportunity to get a summer job. I know that all our neighborhood children are always on the look out for a job.
I think that being level headed and always having some type of responsibility (job) is the key to getting ahead especially when you live in a neighborhood like ours. Well maybe i can just speak for myself but that was actually the key factor for me to have stayed away from trouble and all the negative influences that were actually more visible in the past. Anyway hopefully we can help out as many kids stay level headed and hopefully make something of themselves.
For more information, you can call the summer jobs hotline at 773-553-JOBS. Some of the kinds of jobs available are coach, tutor, nutrition aide and even journalist.
Applications are due April 25, so get on it now--don't wait!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Back of the Yards Entrepreneurs in Trib
Check out Jesse Iñiguez and Rolando Santoyo's t-shirt business, No Manches, which got a mention in Sunday's Chicago Tribune Style section. To read the story, click here.
You can order their hilarious t-shirts online at their website (linked above) or head over to Pilsen and buy them in real life at OMD, the hip new clothing store on 18th Street. Or, for more virtual reality, check out OMD Chicago's web site, where the home page features Jesse and Rolando (seated, bottom row) with a bunch of other people, showing off the t-shirts.
I got Junior and his brother and their dad some No Manches t-shirts for Christmas. His dad is a landscaper, so of course he got the "Mow Your Own Lawn" shirt. The boys got "Juan Deere" and "The United States of Mexico" with the now U.S. Southwest included. Check them out for yourself!
You can order their hilarious t-shirts online at their website (linked above) or head over to Pilsen and buy them in real life at OMD, the hip new clothing store on 18th Street. Or, for more virtual reality, check out OMD Chicago's web site, where the home page features Jesse and Rolando (seated, bottom row) with a bunch of other people, showing off the t-shirts.
I got Junior and his brother and their dad some No Manches t-shirts for Christmas. His dad is a landscaper, so of course he got the "Mow Your Own Lawn" shirt. The boys got "Juan Deere" and "The United States of Mexico" with the now U.S. Southwest included. Check them out for yourself!
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Easter Vigil
My dearest friends
Standing with me in this holy light
Join me in asking God for mercy...
I stood next to Joey, then Angel, then their mom in a pew tonight while Fr. Ed sang those words in St. Joe's, by candlelight, for Easter Vigil.
If you're a liturgical junkie like me, Easter Vigil is the coolest Mass of the year. First, you get to stand outside and light a fire. Then you get to see the priest light a five-foot tall candle from the fire, then everybody else passes that light from the big Paschal candle to each person's little candle, from one to another until everyone has a light. Then you all walk into the pitch-black church and sing, "Christ our Light" a few times. Then you hold the candles and let them flicker while Fr. Ed sings the Exsultet in his fine tenor. Then everyone in the pews blows their little candles out, leaving only the big Paschal candle up front.
"Now we're going to sit in the dark and hear stories," I whispered to Joey.
"Oh, cool," he whispered back. (Note to self--let's take a trip to the Dunes this summer and stay late enough to build a fire and tell ghost stories. He'd love that.)
Tonight we had Creation. Exodus. More. Beats me what happened after Exodus.
The full Easter Vigil has seven readings, often cut down to three or four, especially when there are people to be baptized, confirmed or given first Communion, as we had tonight. I know we cut back, and some were only read in Polish. Plus, I was babysitting Angelito so his mom could pray in peace for a few minutes. God knows she could use that.
Dawn put in an appearance about halfway through, but just to get keys so she could change clothes and go out to a party. At the time I thought she was changing clothes to come back to church. Silly me. Joey bailed out somewhere along the way, too.
I had Angel more or less up until the point when we sang "Alleluia" and all the lights come on at once. It's gorgeous. St. Joe's does it better than any place I've been since college. I know Joey was there for that part. His mom took Angel back after that and went back to the baptismal font with him, so she was in good position to watch the baptism and get soggy herself. Angel likes the font; he kept wanting to stick his hand in there, so we did that a few times while I was keeping him out of his mother's hair.
Ed does baptisms brilliantly. This was his last Easter Vigil at St. Joe's. We will miss him sorely here in the neighborhood, and I will miss his liturgies, his voice and his homilies.
Tonight he preached very simply on the resurrection. The resurrection is one of the hardest things to preach about, I think. The way he put it tonight was through a variation on Humpty Dumpty--let me see if I get it right:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
Only God had the ?????
To put Humpty Dumpty together again
Well, you get the point. Ed was very clear that as Christians, we believe Humpty will get put together again. Some days I can hang on to that idea, but tonight in that beautiful church with Julian in prison, Dawn just there to pick up keys, and Joey almost not coming and then bailing, I have to say I do wonder how even God could put that family back together. But hey, their mom made it to church and even got five minutes to pray on her own. I'd be the last one to knock that.
Standing with me in this holy light
Join me in asking God for mercy...
I stood next to Joey, then Angel, then their mom in a pew tonight while Fr. Ed sang those words in St. Joe's, by candlelight, for Easter Vigil.
If you're a liturgical junkie like me, Easter Vigil is the coolest Mass of the year. First, you get to stand outside and light a fire. Then you get to see the priest light a five-foot tall candle from the fire, then everybody else passes that light from the big Paschal candle to each person's little candle, from one to another until everyone has a light. Then you all walk into the pitch-black church and sing, "Christ our Light" a few times. Then you hold the candles and let them flicker while Fr. Ed sings the Exsultet in his fine tenor. Then everyone in the pews blows their little candles out, leaving only the big Paschal candle up front.
"Now we're going to sit in the dark and hear stories," I whispered to Joey.
"Oh, cool," he whispered back. (Note to self--let's take a trip to the Dunes this summer and stay late enough to build a fire and tell ghost stories. He'd love that.)
Tonight we had Creation. Exodus. More. Beats me what happened after Exodus.
The full Easter Vigil has seven readings, often cut down to three or four, especially when there are people to be baptized, confirmed or given first Communion, as we had tonight. I know we cut back, and some were only read in Polish. Plus, I was babysitting Angelito so his mom could pray in peace for a few minutes. God knows she could use that.
Dawn put in an appearance about halfway through, but just to get keys so she could change clothes and go out to a party. At the time I thought she was changing clothes to come back to church. Silly me. Joey bailed out somewhere along the way, too.
I had Angel more or less up until the point when we sang "Alleluia" and all the lights come on at once. It's gorgeous. St. Joe's does it better than any place I've been since college. I know Joey was there for that part. His mom took Angel back after that and went back to the baptismal font with him, so she was in good position to watch the baptism and get soggy herself. Angel likes the font; he kept wanting to stick his hand in there, so we did that a few times while I was keeping him out of his mother's hair.
Ed does baptisms brilliantly. This was his last Easter Vigil at St. Joe's. We will miss him sorely here in the neighborhood, and I will miss his liturgies, his voice and his homilies.
Tonight he preached very simply on the resurrection. The resurrection is one of the hardest things to preach about, I think. The way he put it tonight was through a variation on Humpty Dumpty--let me see if I get it right:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
Only God had the ?????
To put Humpty Dumpty together again
Well, you get the point. Ed was very clear that as Christians, we believe Humpty will get put together again. Some days I can hang on to that idea, but tonight in that beautiful church with Julian in prison, Dawn just there to pick up keys, and Joey almost not coming and then bailing, I have to say I do wonder how even God could put that family back together. But hey, their mom made it to church and even got five minutes to pray on her own. I'd be the last one to knock that.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Museum of Science and Industry Trip
Well, the best part is we didn't lose anybody. The parts people said they liked best afterwards were the Earth Revealed demonstration, the U-505 sub and I think the baby chicks. The kids asked a ton of questions at Earth Revealed and our docent, Oscar, answered them all very patiently. We even got to see some galaxy and solar system images on the TV screens that he sometimes forgets to show. Thanks, Oscar!
We had 22 kids and five chaperones. Many Bradys came, including the second youngest Brady boy, who is only in kindergarten or first grade, but his second-grade sister didn't want to go so we let him come instead. His big brothers looked out for him. School Lady's younger two daughters came. The three kids whose dad I met at soccer came. Jay-Z and Joey came. Danny & Junior and Oscar made it, just barely. Peter Pan and his two younger brothers came. The only one who caused a serious problem was a boy from up on the next block who had not come to bowling and pizza. I was worried he might be trouble, and I was right. I may not invite him again, or only in a much smaller group setting. Unfortunately, the two kids from Su Casa missed it, but we were still able to use their van, which made the whole expedition possible.
Before we left, I had them all line up along my fence and introduce themselves to one of Medicine Man's buddies. This was a bit of a job. I wanted to make sure I knew them all, too, and get a count at the very beginning, of course. We had to squish in the van to make room for everybody, but we did it. Medicine Man and his friend both had cars, which helped.
The Su Casa van had about a quarter tank in it, and it doesn't accelerate well. We chugged down Garfield Boulevard to 57th Street. One of the oldest Brady girls sat up front with me and told me about how she's learning to drive over at Wells High School. She already has her learner's permit. We talked about college, too. She's thinking someplace warmer and far away. I told her a little about Rollins College in Florida and the University of California at Davis. She spent a month last summer at Georgetown and had a great time.
She also helped me think through what to go see. From talking with her younger siblings and cousins over the weekend, it seemed like the Fairy Castle, the submarine, the train and the science demonstration were all popular ideas. So I figured we'd split up by interest and then meet up at the Earth Revealed! demo at 3 p.m.
The van made it the few hundred feet on Lake Shore Drive from 57th Street to Science Drive. There was plenty of room to park, also good when driving a 15-passenger van.
Pam Barry from the museum's education department met us at the entrance with enough tickets for everybody, even though I had underestimated the count. Thanks, Pam!
When we got inside, the game plan changed slightly. All the guys wanted to see the submarine and all the girls wanted to see the fairy castle. Though I would normally try to resist such blatant gender stereotyping, I thought this would work out with our chaperonage pretty well. Medicine Man and I could do the boys and our new person could go with the girls, who would really be kept in line by the very responsible high school girls we had with us.
The boys were already getting antsy while this was being worked out. I parked them inside the space shuttle exhibit and told them they couldn't come out of there until we knew where we were going. Medicine Man got a call that a couple more of his contacts were coming to meet us. I drafted them to come with us to the sub--I could already see that our 13 boys were not going to be successfully tracked by just two adults. I tried really hard to get some male chaperones from the neighborhood but it didn't work out. These two extra people were some help, but not as much help as I had hoped.
Anyway, off the girls went to the Fairy Castle and off we went to the sub. The guys liked the movie about the bombing of the German sub by American warplanes--when the bombs fell the floor shook. They were transfixed watching it. Of course they never stopped to read any of the little placards next to anything. When I had a minute I would stop with a couple of them and paraphrase it before they ran off to the next thing in a case.
They also really liked a simulation where a two-person team went on a "training mission" and drove a submarine. They waited very patiently in line and teamed up nicely to do it. This, however, is where trouble struck. Once the first pair finished, I went off with them to look at some things, and then realized we were going to need a chaperone at the end of the hallway to keep them from getting too far ahead. So I went to the end of the hall and told everybody they could only come to that point. I thought they would be fine within that few hundred foot space, but I was wrong. There was an argument about someone taking too long at the periscope station (or whatever it was) and the new guy started cussing out some kid's mother. I'm sure I should have made him go apologize, but I only got their version (which was they had barely started when the mom tried to boot him--her version was he had been on for "eight minutes"- who knows?), and even middle class kids were having problems with each other and their parents over it (I guess it was interesting enough to keep one person on it a long time, and there were only two of them), so I asked him to explain, let him off with a warning and went to apologize to the mom myself.
However, they all had fun pretending to drive a submarine. Unfortunately, the tour inside the sub costs $5 extra and for 17 people that was a little much for me. They peeked inside and checked out the surrounding displays. Then we saw the baby chicks and some other stuff on the way to the Earth demonstration. The girls may actually have seen more of the museum than we did--they saw the baby chicks and the airplane.
I was really proud of them for all the questions they asked at Earth Revealed and how much they all knew. They didn't get too bored or antsy, even toward the end. Oscar was very patient, answered all their questions and showed us an extra demonstration about global warming. Afterwards we went back to Marshfield Avenue and I ordered pizza. There was pizza and soccer out back and pizza and photos in the kitchen. I did spring for the group photo for the guys at U-505 (they gave us the school discount).
What I learned on this trip:
1. If you want kids to digest substantive information at a museum, go in groups with no more than three children to one adult unless you have some exceptionally strong relationships among the children. I barely figured out how that U-boat got captured and learned even less about how it got to the museum. (The boys may know more about that last bit--they were watching the time lapse movie about building the hall while I was counting heads and checking who was coming out of the bathroom.)
I could almost imagine taking six Bradys and making it work, but only if at least one of the oldest girls came along, too.
2. Elementary school teachers are geniuses. I can't imagine facing a crowd bigger than that single-handed in a museum, and I used to teach high school.
We had 22 kids and five chaperones. Many Bradys came, including the second youngest Brady boy, who is only in kindergarten or first grade, but his second-grade sister didn't want to go so we let him come instead. His big brothers looked out for him. School Lady's younger two daughters came. The three kids whose dad I met at soccer came. Jay-Z and Joey came. Danny & Junior and Oscar made it, just barely. Peter Pan and his two younger brothers came. The only one who caused a serious problem was a boy from up on the next block who had not come to bowling and pizza. I was worried he might be trouble, and I was right. I may not invite him again, or only in a much smaller group setting. Unfortunately, the two kids from Su Casa missed it, but we were still able to use their van, which made the whole expedition possible.
Before we left, I had them all line up along my fence and introduce themselves to one of Medicine Man's buddies. This was a bit of a job. I wanted to make sure I knew them all, too, and get a count at the very beginning, of course. We had to squish in the van to make room for everybody, but we did it. Medicine Man and his friend both had cars, which helped.
The Su Casa van had about a quarter tank in it, and it doesn't accelerate well. We chugged down Garfield Boulevard to 57th Street. One of the oldest Brady girls sat up front with me and told me about how she's learning to drive over at Wells High School. She already has her learner's permit. We talked about college, too. She's thinking someplace warmer and far away. I told her a little about Rollins College in Florida and the University of California at Davis. She spent a month last summer at Georgetown and had a great time.
She also helped me think through what to go see. From talking with her younger siblings and cousins over the weekend, it seemed like the Fairy Castle, the submarine, the train and the science demonstration were all popular ideas. So I figured we'd split up by interest and then meet up at the Earth Revealed! demo at 3 p.m.
The van made it the few hundred feet on Lake Shore Drive from 57th Street to Science Drive. There was plenty of room to park, also good when driving a 15-passenger van.
Pam Barry from the museum's education department met us at the entrance with enough tickets for everybody, even though I had underestimated the count. Thanks, Pam!
When we got inside, the game plan changed slightly. All the guys wanted to see the submarine and all the girls wanted to see the fairy castle. Though I would normally try to resist such blatant gender stereotyping, I thought this would work out with our chaperonage pretty well. Medicine Man and I could do the boys and our new person could go with the girls, who would really be kept in line by the very responsible high school girls we had with us.
The boys were already getting antsy while this was being worked out. I parked them inside the space shuttle exhibit and told them they couldn't come out of there until we knew where we were going. Medicine Man got a call that a couple more of his contacts were coming to meet us. I drafted them to come with us to the sub--I could already see that our 13 boys were not going to be successfully tracked by just two adults. I tried really hard to get some male chaperones from the neighborhood but it didn't work out. These two extra people were some help, but not as much help as I had hoped.
Anyway, off the girls went to the Fairy Castle and off we went to the sub. The guys liked the movie about the bombing of the German sub by American warplanes--when the bombs fell the floor shook. They were transfixed watching it. Of course they never stopped to read any of the little placards next to anything. When I had a minute I would stop with a couple of them and paraphrase it before they ran off to the next thing in a case.
They also really liked a simulation where a two-person team went on a "training mission" and drove a submarine. They waited very patiently in line and teamed up nicely to do it. This, however, is where trouble struck. Once the first pair finished, I went off with them to look at some things, and then realized we were going to need a chaperone at the end of the hallway to keep them from getting too far ahead. So I went to the end of the hall and told everybody they could only come to that point. I thought they would be fine within that few hundred foot space, but I was wrong. There was an argument about someone taking too long at the periscope station (or whatever it was) and the new guy started cussing out some kid's mother. I'm sure I should have made him go apologize, but I only got their version (which was they had barely started when the mom tried to boot him--her version was he had been on for "eight minutes"- who knows?), and even middle class kids were having problems with each other and their parents over it (I guess it was interesting enough to keep one person on it a long time, and there were only two of them), so I asked him to explain, let him off with a warning and went to apologize to the mom myself.
However, they all had fun pretending to drive a submarine. Unfortunately, the tour inside the sub costs $5 extra and for 17 people that was a little much for me. They peeked inside and checked out the surrounding displays. Then we saw the baby chicks and some other stuff on the way to the Earth demonstration. The girls may actually have seen more of the museum than we did--they saw the baby chicks and the airplane.
I was really proud of them for all the questions they asked at Earth Revealed and how much they all knew. They didn't get too bored or antsy, even toward the end. Oscar was very patient, answered all their questions and showed us an extra demonstration about global warming. Afterwards we went back to Marshfield Avenue and I ordered pizza. There was pizza and soccer out back and pizza and photos in the kitchen. I did spring for the group photo for the guys at U-505 (they gave us the school discount).
What I learned on this trip:
1. If you want kids to digest substantive information at a museum, go in groups with no more than three children to one adult unless you have some exceptionally strong relationships among the children. I barely figured out how that U-boat got captured and learned even less about how it got to the museum. (The boys may know more about that last bit--they were watching the time lapse movie about building the hall while I was counting heads and checking who was coming out of the bathroom.)
I could almost imagine taking six Bradys and making it work, but only if at least one of the oldest girls came along, too.
2. Elementary school teachers are geniuses. I can't imagine facing a crowd bigger than that single-handed in a museum, and I used to teach high school.
From Our Readers
The Marshfield Tattler received its first fan letter recently, from a former Back of the Yards resident now living in Florida. Here's an excerpt:
Although I've lived in FL since the early 70's, I still consider myself a Chicagoan. I happened to have the good fortune to run across your Marshfield Tattler blog. I grew up Back Of The Yards; originally we lived on 47th and Throop and I attended St. John of God's parochial school. As I grew to a teenager, in the mid-1960's, I "branched out" into other areas of BOTY with a large portion of my teen years being spent on the northeast corners of 49th and Hermitage and 49th and Marshfield.
Those years I spent in BOTY were the best of my life; I always seem to find myself going back there in my mind whenever I can muster a few spare moments in my now too-busy life. Therefore, it's quite interesting to me to compare my recollections of those times with the snapshots of the neighborhood that you present on your blog. You seem to love your neighborhood as much as I do. Please continue your writings, and we'll keep reading. Many thanks for the slices of life in BOTY!
Also, a neighbor over on 49th and Hermitage sent this sad item:
I am attaching a link about a 24 year old man [from] 48th and Wood who was tasered and died because of the shock. I always drive by that street and it is so sad that this keeps on happening in our neighborhood.
To see the story in today's Tribune, click here.
Although I've lived in FL since the early 70's, I still consider myself a Chicagoan. I happened to have the good fortune to run across your Marshfield Tattler blog. I grew up Back Of The Yards; originally we lived on 47th and Throop and I attended St. John of God's parochial school. As I grew to a teenager, in the mid-1960's, I "branched out" into other areas of BOTY with a large portion of my teen years being spent on the northeast corners of 49th and Hermitage and 49th and Marshfield.
Those years I spent in BOTY were the best of my life; I always seem to find myself going back there in my mind whenever I can muster a few spare moments in my now too-busy life. Therefore, it's quite interesting to me to compare my recollections of those times with the snapshots of the neighborhood that you present on your blog. You seem to love your neighborhood as much as I do. Please continue your writings, and we'll keep reading. Many thanks for the slices of life in BOTY!
Also, a neighbor over on 49th and Hermitage sent this sad item:
I am attaching a link about a 24 year old man [from] 48th and Wood who was tasered and died because of the shock. I always drive by that street and it is so sad that this keeps on happening in our neighborhood.
To see the story in today's Tribune, click here.
Little Village Boxing Video
If you want to see what the place where my neighbors have been boxing looks like, check out the Community Beat blog and the great two-minute video on Chicago Youth Boxing at La Villita Community Church.
The video was made long before I started driving the Boxing Bus, but you get a great feel for the really wide age range of young men involved. They are wanting to work with girls and women, too, so if you're a female aspiring boxer, don't be shy--go see it live for yourself.
The video was made long before I started driving the Boxing Bus, but you get a great feel for the really wide age range of young men involved. They are wanting to work with girls and women, too, so if you're a female aspiring boxer, don't be shy--go see it live for yourself.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Chavez History Fair II
Let's go back in time to last Saturday morning for the Chavez History Fair. This was the first time Chavez has had all its 8th-graders take on a History Fair project. The school's theme was World War II, and every student or team of students sliced off a small subtopic related to the war and researched it.
My favorite presentation was about women spies of World War II. School Lady's second-oldest daughter was part of a four-girl team. They read about Julia McWilliams Child and her work for the OSS. They also discovered that Hedy Lamarr had helped invent an early version of frequency-hopping and tried to convince the U.S. government to use the technology to protect radio-guided torpedoes from enemy attempts to jam their guide signals.
The one I noticed that had a real thesis attached was a young man named Emannuel's argument that the U.S. nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was unjustified. Though he agreed with the U.S. military's assessment at the time, that Japan would not surrender without either a nuclear attack or a prolonged ground war, he argued that the nuclear option harmed such large numbers of civilians and created so much long-term environmental damage that even a bloody ground war would have been better. I asked him where he was going and he said "probably Kelly." If you're a Kelly staff member reading this, he might be a good candidate for your IB program, or a replacement when somebody you already admitted wipes out.
One of the Brady girls worked with a partner on a presentation about the invasion of Poland as the beginning of World War II. She knew that Germany had conceded territory to Poland after World War I, but she didn't know the argument that the harsh reprisals against Germany and the high cost of reparations were factors in German popular support for Hitler's warmongering.
And Junior, who came over a while ago to work on his project about Latino heroes of World War II, had his board, photos and a popsicle-stick model of the little concrete structure in which a sniper would sit. Now I can't remember the name of it. Though his project was no great shakes as a piece of historical research, his photos were all from the right time period. And he worked hard on it--yay, Junior.
Some other kid's board actually had a Civil War battle scene with Abe Lincoln's face superimposed up in the top right corner. Ouch. Hope we don't see any anachronistic wonders like that next year. On the bright side, they had enough judges they didn't even ask me to do it.
On the even brighter side, Joey's whole 6th-grade teacher team wants to come out to his exhibit next week. That is really cool of them to make time for him over their own spring break (Chavez has two weeks since it is year-round).
My favorite presentation was about women spies of World War II. School Lady's second-oldest daughter was part of a four-girl team. They read about Julia McWilliams Child and her work for the OSS. They also discovered that Hedy Lamarr had helped invent an early version of frequency-hopping and tried to convince the U.S. government to use the technology to protect radio-guided torpedoes from enemy attempts to jam their guide signals.
The one I noticed that had a real thesis attached was a young man named Emannuel's argument that the U.S. nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was unjustified. Though he agreed with the U.S. military's assessment at the time, that Japan would not surrender without either a nuclear attack or a prolonged ground war, he argued that the nuclear option harmed such large numbers of civilians and created so much long-term environmental damage that even a bloody ground war would have been better. I asked him where he was going and he said "probably Kelly." If you're a Kelly staff member reading this, he might be a good candidate for your IB program, or a replacement when somebody you already admitted wipes out.
One of the Brady girls worked with a partner on a presentation about the invasion of Poland as the beginning of World War II. She knew that Germany had conceded territory to Poland after World War I, but she didn't know the argument that the harsh reprisals against Germany and the high cost of reparations were factors in German popular support for Hitler's warmongering.
And Junior, who came over a while ago to work on his project about Latino heroes of World War II, had his board, photos and a popsicle-stick model of the little concrete structure in which a sniper would sit. Now I can't remember the name of it. Though his project was no great shakes as a piece of historical research, his photos were all from the right time period. And he worked hard on it--yay, Junior.
Some other kid's board actually had a Civil War battle scene with Abe Lincoln's face superimposed up in the top right corner. Ouch. Hope we don't see any anachronistic wonders like that next year. On the bright side, they had enough judges they didn't even ask me to do it.
On the even brighter side, Joey's whole 6th-grade teacher team wants to come out to his exhibit next week. That is really cool of them to make time for him over their own spring break (Chavez has two weeks since it is year-round).
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Chavez HIstory Fair I
Chavez had its first-ever History Fair this morning. It ended about two hours ago. Now a bunch of Bradys are playing my Serpentiles game while I wrap up some email and get ready to get them to help me plan our Museum of Science and Industry trip next week.
I heard them outside. I had locked the gate without realizing it. I went to the door and Brady Boy told me, "We're bored. We want to play your game."
They're bored two hours after a big fun experience with lots of tacos. I didn't even get my nap. Oh, to be young.
Nap, schmap, anyway. We've got a trip to plan.
I heard them outside. I had locked the gate without realizing it. I went to the door and Brady Boy told me, "We're bored. We want to play your game."
They're bored two hours after a big fun experience with lots of tacos. I didn't even get my nap. Oh, to be young.
Nap, schmap, anyway. We've got a trip to plan.
Alternative High School Registration Still Open
This just in from Brigette Swenson, director of the Peace and Education Coalition's alternative high schools:
Registration is still open at both schools, Irene Dugan at 46th and Wood (Holy Cross) and Second Chance at 52nd and Elizabeth (St. John of God). All out-of-school youth aged 17 to 21 are encouraged to apply.
Registration is still open at both schools, Irene Dugan at 46th and Wood (Holy Cross) and Second Chance at 52nd and Elizabeth (St. John of God). All out-of-school youth aged 17 to 21 are encouraged to apply.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Suspect Arrested in Cop Shooting
...and yes, I know the suspect. It's Julian.
He and a second person are accused of shooting the officer. I still can't find a news story about this but I've heard from enough people, some of whom I consider reliable, to believe such a shooting took place. And I know his mom was at his hearing at 26th today, she told me herself.
When the cops showed up looking for him and they told her what he was accused of, "she looked like a ghost," one of my neighbors told me. She doesn't believe he did it, of course. Sadly, I'm afraid I do. Or at least I recognize it's possible, maybe even likely at this stage of the game. But I'm not the daughter of a public defender for nothing, I guess.
However, I'm way more interested in trying to keep Joey out of trouble now than in helping Julian. When Julian got out of Cook County before, we talked some. "You make me think about things differently," he told me. Not differently enough. It was very clear that even though jail had scared him, it hadn't scared him into giving up his gangbanger buddies.
In the car on Wednesday, Joey was talking about how he and Peter Pan used to box with Julian and a friend of his. They even had hand wraps. Joey got knocked flat once, but then he started to get it. "Remember, Peter?"
"Yeah."
I remember when Julian was bugging me about where to get boxing gloves and how much they cost. Then it was stereo speakers and DJ equipment. Then it was lawyers.
If there's anything to be done to keep Joey from going down that road, I hope to God we figure out what it is and do it.
He and a second person are accused of shooting the officer. I still can't find a news story about this but I've heard from enough people, some of whom I consider reliable, to believe such a shooting took place. And I know his mom was at his hearing at 26th today, she told me herself.
When the cops showed up looking for him and they told her what he was accused of, "she looked like a ghost," one of my neighbors told me. She doesn't believe he did it, of course. Sadly, I'm afraid I do. Or at least I recognize it's possible, maybe even likely at this stage of the game. But I'm not the daughter of a public defender for nothing, I guess.
However, I'm way more interested in trying to keep Joey out of trouble now than in helping Julian. When Julian got out of Cook County before, we talked some. "You make me think about things differently," he told me. Not differently enough. It was very clear that even though jail had scared him, it hadn't scared him into giving up his gangbanger buddies.
In the car on Wednesday, Joey was talking about how he and Peter Pan used to box with Julian and a friend of his. They even had hand wraps. Joey got knocked flat once, but then he started to get it. "Remember, Peter?"
"Yeah."
I remember when Julian was bugging me about where to get boxing gloves and how much they cost. Then it was stereo speakers and DJ equipment. Then it was lawyers.
If there's anything to be done to keep Joey from going down that road, I hope to God we figure out what it is and do it.
Boxing Fever!
For months, Joey has been bugging me about boxing. I kept trying to get him interested in karate instead, but he wasn't buying. He and his buddy Peter Pan went and checked out boxing at Davis Square Park, but they came back unimpressed.
"It's small, and kinda dirty," Joey told me. "And it was full of gangbangers. Me and [Peter] got scared."
Back in January, we heard the Chicago Youth Boxing Club had opened a gym over in Little Village. He and his dad sort of tried to go check it out, but I don't think they ever got there. Once Joey's class ended at Marwen, I was willing to borrow Medicine Man's car to check it out. (Marwen plus boxing seemed like a lot to ask out of somebody else's car.)
The boxing place is nice. They built a brand-new boxing ring in the middle of a church basement and set up circuit training stations all around it--fast bags, heavy bags, a couple of more bags I don't even know the names for, and a station for situps and so forth. It's spotless. I went Wednesday and tonight--I even worked out a little tonight, from the sidelines. The kids are focused and don't mess with each other. They help each other out with taping their hands, showing each other how to use the bags, stuff like that.
Joey and Peter Pan went with me on Wednesday. It seemed better organized that night. The director was there and he took them around for a tour and spent a lot of time talking to them. They came away really fired up. I went with Joey to his house afterwards and had a plate of enchiladas with green sauce and really good refried beans. We talked to his mom and she was OK with him signing up. He went back the next night with Peter's granddad and had a form and a check to get started.
Then they talked it up to their friends. Tonight I took them, plus two other guys from the block, Jay-Z and one of the Bradys. When Jay-Z said he wanted to do it I was all over it. Jay-Z might even beat Joey in the Marshfield Avenue "needs an outlet and some responsible men in his life now" sweepstakes. When Jay-Z's dad and a buddy came back from the store (I'd lay money it was the liquor store on 51st, with a 12-pack each--I'm only guessing from the direction they were walking and the outline of what was in their black plastic bags) his dad said OK, he could check it out.
At first I couldn't tell if Jay-Z and Brady Boy liked it or not. Like Joey and Peter on their first night, they hung by the doorway when we first got there. Plus, the director wasn't there and at first the manager was busy in the office. Later he did give Brady Boy and Jay-Z a welcome speech and explained the rules.
(I'll fess up and say after the speech, when they started checking things out, I went down to 26th street for a chile relleno. When I came back, the guys wanted to know where their food was. "At home," I said. "If you eat now, you'll get sick.")
It seemed like there was less coaching tonight than the other nights, but hey, it was Friday. I was afraid the guys were bored because it seemed like they stood around just watching a lot, but they said they were fine, and then they started jumping rope and working on the bags.
Later, the coach tonight had all the little guys get in the ring and do exercises together. I'm not sure if they went all around the circle and each kid picked an exercise to do or if just the veteran kids picked, but they did a variety and it was kids leading kids. They did jumping jacks, crunches, situps, pushups and a lot of arm circles.
I followed along from the sidelines. The coach invited me into the ring but I declined, figuring I could bail out more gracefully from the side. I wiped out on the pushups, but I could do a lot more arm circles than some of the guys.
It ended early, too, about 7:30. I made them wait for me while I stretched out afterwards. They all said they liked it and Jay-Z said he was going to ask his dad if he could sign up. When we got back, Joey's mom was in the street with School Lady--they just went grocery shopping. School Lady asked me about it, because one of her daughters wants to box. There's another girl on the block who might want to box, too.
We were all joking about my new career as a bus driver. Although apparently School Lady has a functioning car again, and Joey's dad was there working on their van, I'm still pretty skeptical about how successful the Marshfield Avenue car pool will be. It will be an interesting test of the social capital and social efficacy of this block, not to mention the material capital in terms of cars. However, after all these years, I might have to break down and get a car if these guys get serious about boxing over there. We'll see.
"It's small, and kinda dirty," Joey told me. "And it was full of gangbangers. Me and [Peter] got scared."
Back in January, we heard the Chicago Youth Boxing Club had opened a gym over in Little Village. He and his dad sort of tried to go check it out, but I don't think they ever got there. Once Joey's class ended at Marwen, I was willing to borrow Medicine Man's car to check it out. (Marwen plus boxing seemed like a lot to ask out of somebody else's car.)
The boxing place is nice. They built a brand-new boxing ring in the middle of a church basement and set up circuit training stations all around it--fast bags, heavy bags, a couple of more bags I don't even know the names for, and a station for situps and so forth. It's spotless. I went Wednesday and tonight--I even worked out a little tonight, from the sidelines. The kids are focused and don't mess with each other. They help each other out with taping their hands, showing each other how to use the bags, stuff like that.
Joey and Peter Pan went with me on Wednesday. It seemed better organized that night. The director was there and he took them around for a tour and spent a lot of time talking to them. They came away really fired up. I went with Joey to his house afterwards and had a plate of enchiladas with green sauce and really good refried beans. We talked to his mom and she was OK with him signing up. He went back the next night with Peter's granddad and had a form and a check to get started.
Then they talked it up to their friends. Tonight I took them, plus two other guys from the block, Jay-Z and one of the Bradys. When Jay-Z said he wanted to do it I was all over it. Jay-Z might even beat Joey in the Marshfield Avenue "needs an outlet and some responsible men in his life now" sweepstakes. When Jay-Z's dad and a buddy came back from the store (I'd lay money it was the liquor store on 51st, with a 12-pack each--I'm only guessing from the direction they were walking and the outline of what was in their black plastic bags) his dad said OK, he could check it out.
At first I couldn't tell if Jay-Z and Brady Boy liked it or not. Like Joey and Peter on their first night, they hung by the doorway when we first got there. Plus, the director wasn't there and at first the manager was busy in the office. Later he did give Brady Boy and Jay-Z a welcome speech and explained the rules.
(I'll fess up and say after the speech, when they started checking things out, I went down to 26th street for a chile relleno. When I came back, the guys wanted to know where their food was. "At home," I said. "If you eat now, you'll get sick.")
It seemed like there was less coaching tonight than the other nights, but hey, it was Friday. I was afraid the guys were bored because it seemed like they stood around just watching a lot, but they said they were fine, and then they started jumping rope and working on the bags.
Later, the coach tonight had all the little guys get in the ring and do exercises together. I'm not sure if they went all around the circle and each kid picked an exercise to do or if just the veteran kids picked, but they did a variety and it was kids leading kids. They did jumping jacks, crunches, situps, pushups and a lot of arm circles.
I followed along from the sidelines. The coach invited me into the ring but I declined, figuring I could bail out more gracefully from the side. I wiped out on the pushups, but I could do a lot more arm circles than some of the guys.
It ended early, too, about 7:30. I made them wait for me while I stretched out afterwards. They all said they liked it and Jay-Z said he was going to ask his dad if he could sign up. When we got back, Joey's mom was in the street with School Lady--they just went grocery shopping. School Lady asked me about it, because one of her daughters wants to box. There's another girl on the block who might want to box, too.
We were all joking about my new career as a bus driver. Although apparently School Lady has a functioning car again, and Joey's dad was there working on their van, I'm still pretty skeptical about how successful the Marshfield Avenue car pool will be. It will be an interesting test of the social capital and social efficacy of this block, not to mention the material capital in terms of cars. However, after all these years, I might have to break down and get a car if these guys get serious about boxing over there. We'll see.
Man of the House
Earlier this week--maybe Monday or Tuesday--I was fixing myself a late lunch, just before two o'clock, when I heard a big racket coming from between my house and Dawn's house. It sounded like somebody was dropping rocks.
Maybe it's someone trying to break in over there, I thought, and went outside in my socks to investigate. I poked my head around the corner, and there was Joey, stacking bricks up along the basement window.
"Joey," I called, not too loudly.
He still jumped. "You scared me."
"You scared me, too. That's why I came out here."
"Oh."
"What are you doing?"
"Somebody's been trying to break in our house." He looked at me sideways, and said even more quietly, "I think it's Yup-yup." He's seen Yup-yup watching when people go in and out of his house.
"Well, the first thing you guys need to do is lock that front gate at night before you go to bed."
"We do!"
"No, somebody isn't," I told him. "Because people ring my doorbell at all kinds of hours and I lock my front gate at night. Since your dad took the fence down, they cut through your yard and come over here. It's driving me crazy. Could you tell your mom she has to be really super-careful about that, especially now?"
"OK," he said. He went back to stacking bricks against the basement window, and I went back to lunch.
I guess he has to take on the security detail. He's 11 years old, but he's the man of the house now.
Maybe it's someone trying to break in over there, I thought, and went outside in my socks to investigate. I poked my head around the corner, and there was Joey, stacking bricks up along the basement window.
"Joey," I called, not too loudly.
He still jumped. "You scared me."
"You scared me, too. That's why I came out here."
"Oh."
"What are you doing?"
"Somebody's been trying to break in our house." He looked at me sideways, and said even more quietly, "I think it's Yup-yup." He's seen Yup-yup watching when people go in and out of his house.
"Well, the first thing you guys need to do is lock that front gate at night before you go to bed."
"We do!"
"No, somebody isn't," I told him. "Because people ring my doorbell at all kinds of hours and I lock my front gate at night. Since your dad took the fence down, they cut through your yard and come over here. It's driving me crazy. Could you tell your mom she has to be really super-careful about that, especially now?"
"OK," he said. He went back to stacking bricks against the basement window, and I went back to lunch.
I guess he has to take on the security detail. He's 11 years old, but he's the man of the house now.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Reminiscing
Man, I remember when I introduced Dawn and Julian to Alfredo Nambo at Big Picture. They were having an open house for 8th-graders and I really wanted them to go there. I knew Julian wouldn't last a hot minute at Richards, and I didn't think Dawn would make it much longer than her brother.
So I pulled out my naggy inner Oak Park mom and made them go up and introduce themselves to Alfredo. Not knowing how many people would be in the lottery, I wanted to make sure he knew who they were.
He said, "They seem like nice kids."
And I said, "They are nice kids."
They still are nice kids. But they're both nice kids in a heap of trouble, each in their own ways. Dawn is hanging by a thread at Big Picture for all the school she has missed with her escapades. Julian hasn't been back since he got out of jail. He didn't go to Indianapolis like we hoped. I hear he's hustling and using cocaine.
I just wish I knew how we got from there to here and how to change the trajectory.
So I pulled out my naggy inner Oak Park mom and made them go up and introduce themselves to Alfredo. Not knowing how many people would be in the lottery, I wanted to make sure he knew who they were.
He said, "They seem like nice kids."
And I said, "They are nice kids."
They still are nice kids. But they're both nice kids in a heap of trouble, each in their own ways. Dawn is hanging by a thread at Big Picture for all the school she has missed with her escapades. Julian hasn't been back since he got out of jail. He didn't go to Indianapolis like we hoped. I hear he's hustling and using cocaine.
I just wish I knew how we got from there to here and how to change the trajectory.
Police Officer Shot?
Following the journalist's two-source rule, I can say with some confidence that the police were out in force on Marshfield Avenue this afternoon, looking for a suspect in the shooting of a police officer.
The scary part is the suspect is someone I know. He's not currently living on the block, though.
I can't find any news stories about a shooting of a police officer today. Rumor has it the officer was shot in his own house, but I don't know where.
When there's more to say, you'll find it here.
The scary part is the suspect is someone I know. He's not currently living on the block, though.
I can't find any news stories about a shooting of a police officer today. Rumor has it the officer was shot in his own house, but I don't know where.
When there's more to say, you'll find it here.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
News Next Door
So there's still plenty going on next door. I feel like every single person in that house needs their own private social worker (or early childhood educator, for Angel). Dawn's mom's car is still not running, so I borrowed Medicine Man's car and drove her to Telpochcalli because I know some people there who hooked her up with a family therapist who is good.
Joey got suspended from school today for carrying a knife. I found this out when we got to Telpochcalli and somebody could translate what his mom was telling me. Joey was in the car--I promised we'd go to boxing while his mom was talking. Once I knew what was going on, it didn't work that way. I babysat Angel.
First his mom got to talk to the therapist lady while I walked around with Angel. We went back out to the car to talk to Joey. Joey told me that about three months ago he went to get pizza over on Ashland and some guy started hassling him, asking, "who you run with?" and stuff like that. This happened again three days ago. That's when Joey started carrying the knife, "for protection." I've heard this from kids before.
So we went inside and he and his mom and the therapist lady all talked while Angel and I walked around and watched some kids paint a mural in the hallway.
Afterwards we went to check out Chicago Youth Boxing, but we got there so early nobody was there. Joey decided he liked the look of the place and he wanted to bring Peter Pan, so we went home and came back again later. Another post for that story tomorrow.
Joey got suspended from school today for carrying a knife. I found this out when we got to Telpochcalli and somebody could translate what his mom was telling me. Joey was in the car--I promised we'd go to boxing while his mom was talking. Once I knew what was going on, it didn't work that way. I babysat Angel.
First his mom got to talk to the therapist lady while I walked around with Angel. We went back out to the car to talk to Joey. Joey told me that about three months ago he went to get pizza over on Ashland and some guy started hassling him, asking, "who you run with?" and stuff like that. This happened again three days ago. That's when Joey started carrying the knife, "for protection." I've heard this from kids before.
So we went inside and he and his mom and the therapist lady all talked while Angel and I walked around and watched some kids paint a mural in the hallway.
Afterwards we went to check out Chicago Youth Boxing, but we got there so early nobody was there. Joey decided he liked the look of the place and he wanted to bring Peter Pan, so we went home and came back again later. Another post for that story tomorrow.
Oakley Soccer League
It's quite a contrast from Chicago Indoor Soccer, but I had the luck to check out the Oakley Soccer League facility at 62nd and Oakley tonight. From the outside, it looks like just another abandoned warehouse across the street from the barbed wire keeping people away from some train tracks.
But inside, there's a whole little indoor soccer space, with a nice surface (I didn't step on it, but it looked comfy) nets all over to keep the ball on the field, and even some room for bleachers. A yuppie like me enjoyed the exposed brick and high ceilings while laughing at the visible insulation falling apart way up there and hoping there wasn't any asbestos.
Back down on the ground, plenty of dads and tios were cheering for their favorite little guys on the field. "Victor, arriba!" one dad kept yelling. Peter Pan's little brothers were playing--I saw one of them score. There was a kid in Gunsaulus sweat pants and I thought even a couple of white boys in the crowd.
Peter Pan's neighbor had brought them over. He lives on the south end of the block in a house that looks pretty crappy from the outside, but he tells me he's fixed it up on the inside. He really stays on the down-low: his kids are never outside, the house is nothing to look at, etc. But he owns his own trucking business, his oldest daughter just got into Bronzeville Military (score another decent high school for an 8th grader on the block) and his younger kids all go to Saucedo in Little Village. He had one of them in Chavez for a few months, but decided it wasn't challenging enough for his kids.
He looks out for Peter Pan and his brothers and sisters, too. You never know what dividends you'll get from being an honorary soccer mom.
By the way, if you're looking for a place to play soccer, they have youth leagues and adult leagues. The youth leagues go from 6 and under to 16 and under. Call Hector at 773-629-2498 or Fernando at 773-983-4895. On the way home, Peter Pan suggested they get a bunch of kids and parents together and rent the place out to play soccer sometime. Sounds like a good idea to me, but maybe when it's a little warmer. There's no heat, and even in a down jacket and long johns, I was freezing after a while. The little kids seemed just fine running around in their soccer shorts, though.
But inside, there's a whole little indoor soccer space, with a nice surface (I didn't step on it, but it looked comfy) nets all over to keep the ball on the field, and even some room for bleachers. A yuppie like me enjoyed the exposed brick and high ceilings while laughing at the visible insulation falling apart way up there and hoping there wasn't any asbestos.
Back down on the ground, plenty of dads and tios were cheering for their favorite little guys on the field. "Victor, arriba!" one dad kept yelling. Peter Pan's little brothers were playing--I saw one of them score. There was a kid in Gunsaulus sweat pants and I thought even a couple of white boys in the crowd.
Peter Pan's neighbor had brought them over. He lives on the south end of the block in a house that looks pretty crappy from the outside, but he tells me he's fixed it up on the inside. He really stays on the down-low: his kids are never outside, the house is nothing to look at, etc. But he owns his own trucking business, his oldest daughter just got into Bronzeville Military (score another decent high school for an 8th grader on the block) and his younger kids all go to Saucedo in Little Village. He had one of them in Chavez for a few months, but decided it wasn't challenging enough for his kids.
He looks out for Peter Pan and his brothers and sisters, too. You never know what dividends you'll get from being an honorary soccer mom.
By the way, if you're looking for a place to play soccer, they have youth leagues and adult leagues. The youth leagues go from 6 and under to 16 and under. Call Hector at 773-629-2498 or Fernando at 773-983-4895. On the way home, Peter Pan suggested they get a bunch of kids and parents together and rent the place out to play soccer sometime. Sounds like a good idea to me, but maybe when it's a little warmer. There's no heat, and even in a down jacket and long johns, I was freezing after a while. The little kids seemed just fine running around in their soccer shorts, though.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Catching Up
There's been a lot of news lately, so this post probably won't be very organized or well-plotted. Danny got into Curie! Yay! So that's three kids I know are in decent high schools out of six or eight. I am only responsible for one of them, which is proof there are responsible and savvy parents on this block. School Lady is responsible but perhaps not so savvy--we have to figure out what is happening with her daughter, who applied to Young but did not get in, like 90 percent of the world. Hmmm...
Three Brady kids have made student of the month at Chavez recently--two this month and one ealier.
Lots of bad news a couple of doors up, where someone we'll call Jay-Z lives. He's a friend of Joey's. His daddy's walking around the neighborhood with a bottle in his hand.I'm pretty sure Daddy was standing out slanging (dealing) tonight. Jay'Z's mama is in jail. "He's not learning anything," his aunt tells me. No wonder.
He's been suspended twice in the last month and his dad's afraid he won't pass sixth grade, even though he's already been ID'd special ed. "He's going to become a criminal," his aunt declared. I'm afraid she's right, if something good doesn't happen for him, and quick. Apparently school people said they didn't think changing schools would help matters. I disagree, and gave his aunt a number to call. I know a charter school that is still looking for 6th and 7th graders. At least he might get real social work service there, although they probably have their own struggles with special ed.
He's come by twice lately telling me he's hungry. I feed him. I don't call DCFS because their policy is relative foster care first and he's living with relatives now, so what's the point? Besides, I have to live with these people, and don't think they wouldn't figure out in five seconds who made that call. I went to Mass at St. Joe's this morning and prayed for Jay-Z's daddy.
Even daddy asked me about counseling. For Jay-Z, not for him. I'll keep on praying, maybe for the nerve to say a few things to Dad about what he need to do to help Jay-Z get it together, like put that bottle down.
Auntie tells me she's tried to talk to her brother, but he's not hearing her, at least not yet. I told her my dad quit drinking when he was 58, so you never know.
If you're the praying kind, please keep Jay-Z and his daddy in your prayers.
Three Brady kids have made student of the month at Chavez recently--two this month and one ealier.
Lots of bad news a couple of doors up, where someone we'll call Jay-Z lives. He's a friend of Joey's. His daddy's walking around the neighborhood with a bottle in his hand.I'm pretty sure Daddy was standing out slanging (dealing) tonight. Jay'Z's mama is in jail. "He's not learning anything," his aunt tells me. No wonder.
He's been suspended twice in the last month and his dad's afraid he won't pass sixth grade, even though he's already been ID'd special ed. "He's going to become a criminal," his aunt declared. I'm afraid she's right, if something good doesn't happen for him, and quick. Apparently school people said they didn't think changing schools would help matters. I disagree, and gave his aunt a number to call. I know a charter school that is still looking for 6th and 7th graders. At least he might get real social work service there, although they probably have their own struggles with special ed.
He's come by twice lately telling me he's hungry. I feed him. I don't call DCFS because their policy is relative foster care first and he's living with relatives now, so what's the point? Besides, I have to live with these people, and don't think they wouldn't figure out in five seconds who made that call. I went to Mass at St. Joe's this morning and prayed for Jay-Z's daddy.
Even daddy asked me about counseling. For Jay-Z, not for him. I'll keep on praying, maybe for the nerve to say a few things to Dad about what he need to do to help Jay-Z get it together, like put that bottle down.
Auntie tells me she's tried to talk to her brother, but he's not hearing her, at least not yet. I told her my dad quit drinking when he was 58, so you never know.
If you're the praying kind, please keep Jay-Z and his daddy in your prayers.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Lenten Special
Last night Dawn's mom made nopalitos con camarones/cactus with shrimp. It's a traditional Mexican dish for Lent. She likes it better than chiles rellenos, which is also traditional but I think more work. Maybe it's a wash.
With chiles rellenos, you have to beat egg whites to make the coating in which you dip the chile. With nopalitos, if you buy the freshest cactus pads, you have to cut off the spines yourself. On Thursday night we were sitting at her kitchen table. I was eating the Subway sandwich I had just bought with Joey while she was peeling the spines off the cactus with a knife. She got pricked by a spine. I winced. She grimaced a little, but she pulled it out and went on. "It's worth it to have the fresh ones," she told me.
When I came back last night to try the final product, School Lady and three of her four daughters were over to visit. The nopalitos were all cut up into bite-size chunks and had been simmered in a red sauce with the shrimp. The shrimp was dried ground shrimp, which reconstitutes into a little patty.
School Lady's youngest, Miss Opinionated, did not like the shrimp. (Truth be told, neither did I, but Dawn's mom doesn't have to know.) "It's rubbery!" she said in English, assuming the grownups wouldn't understand except for me.
Her mom understands English well, though, and tried to shush her.
Miss Opinionated, however, was not to be silenced. "I put my spoon on it and it bounced back!" Fortunately, everyone else was talking in English and Spanish, and Dawn's mom was busy with her youngest, so I don't think it mattered.
Miss Opinionated's next oldest sister is my favorite of all four. Usually she is very quiet, but she wanted to tell jokes last night. First, she asked me if I had any, but I didn't (except probably dirty jokes) so I just said no. She told one that was a little risque--"It has a word I can't say in it," she explained. But she thought of a substitute. "Can I say 'butt'?"
I said that was OK. So here's the joke: three men have been captured by cannibals. The cannibals decide to torture them by putting various kinds of fruit up their butts. If they make any noise, the cannibals will eat them, but if they can endure it stoically, they will win their freedom. The first one has to take ten apples--he only gets to the third one before he screams and is eaten. The next one only has to take ten blueberries. He gets to nine, but then he starts laughing.
"Why did you do that? You almost won!" one of the cannibals asks.
"Look at the next guy," guy number two tells him. "He's getting pineapples."
There was a pineapple among the fruit in a bowl on the kitchen table, and for the rest of the night we all kept eyeing it and making jokes about it. That, and the two potatoes in the shape of hearts--really!--they were potatoes that hadn't quite split in two, and they both were truly heart-shaped. Angelito kept picking them up, marching around with them and sometimes handing them off to one of the many females keeping an eye on him. School Lady's oldest is good with him--she got him to fall asleep for a few minutes, anyway. Then he wanted back in the party, so out he came, stumbling across the dining room floor and wiping the sleep out of his eyes most determinedly.
Apparently some guy at the store was teasing Dawn's mom about love and extra hearts. That got all us hardened old ladies joking about how Dawn's mom doesn't need any love or extra hearts right now. I suggested she could give those potato hearts away and let someone else suffer.
Dawn's mother's personality is starting to reveal itself to me a little more. I have always found her hard to get to know. Some of it is language--she has the least English of anyone in the family. But some of it may be she's starting to spread her wings a little now that the mister is out of the house.
She cracked me up on Thursday night. Shortly after we got back from Subway, Joey asked me, "Does my mom look different to you?"
I really wasn't sure what I was supposed to see different at first. Still the same long dark hair in a loose ponytail down her back, still the same face. Then I noticed her shape. She had more of a waist than usual. I was trying to figure out how to say this nicely when she smiled and pulled up the side of her sweater to show the corset underneath. We all laughed.
"That would have been a lot of sit-ups," I said.
Last night she didn't bother--she was explaining our laugh from Thursday night to School Lady, so she pulled her shirt up a little to show no corset this time.
It was quite a hen party--three grown women, three girls and Angelito soaking up all that female attention. Joey hid out--he wrestled with School Lady's oldest when they first arrived but then he went back in his room with his music. Dawn was out--I didn't quite follow where, but her mom seemed to know where she was and didn't seem worried about her. So I just enjoyed my nopalitos con camaron with rice and tortillas.
With chiles rellenos, you have to beat egg whites to make the coating in which you dip the chile. With nopalitos, if you buy the freshest cactus pads, you have to cut off the spines yourself. On Thursday night we were sitting at her kitchen table. I was eating the Subway sandwich I had just bought with Joey while she was peeling the spines off the cactus with a knife. She got pricked by a spine. I winced. She grimaced a little, but she pulled it out and went on. "It's worth it to have the fresh ones," she told me.
When I came back last night to try the final product, School Lady and three of her four daughters were over to visit. The nopalitos were all cut up into bite-size chunks and had been simmered in a red sauce with the shrimp. The shrimp was dried ground shrimp, which reconstitutes into a little patty.
School Lady's youngest, Miss Opinionated, did not like the shrimp. (Truth be told, neither did I, but Dawn's mom doesn't have to know.) "It's rubbery!" she said in English, assuming the grownups wouldn't understand except for me.
Her mom understands English well, though, and tried to shush her.
Miss Opinionated, however, was not to be silenced. "I put my spoon on it and it bounced back!" Fortunately, everyone else was talking in English and Spanish, and Dawn's mom was busy with her youngest, so I don't think it mattered.
Miss Opinionated's next oldest sister is my favorite of all four. Usually she is very quiet, but she wanted to tell jokes last night. First, she asked me if I had any, but I didn't (except probably dirty jokes) so I just said no. She told one that was a little risque--"It has a word I can't say in it," she explained. But she thought of a substitute. "Can I say 'butt'?"
I said that was OK. So here's the joke: three men have been captured by cannibals. The cannibals decide to torture them by putting various kinds of fruit up their butts. If they make any noise, the cannibals will eat them, but if they can endure it stoically, they will win their freedom. The first one has to take ten apples--he only gets to the third one before he screams and is eaten. The next one only has to take ten blueberries. He gets to nine, but then he starts laughing.
"Why did you do that? You almost won!" one of the cannibals asks.
"Look at the next guy," guy number two tells him. "He's getting pineapples."
There was a pineapple among the fruit in a bowl on the kitchen table, and for the rest of the night we all kept eyeing it and making jokes about it. That, and the two potatoes in the shape of hearts--really!--they were potatoes that hadn't quite split in two, and they both were truly heart-shaped. Angelito kept picking them up, marching around with them and sometimes handing them off to one of the many females keeping an eye on him. School Lady's oldest is good with him--she got him to fall asleep for a few minutes, anyway. Then he wanted back in the party, so out he came, stumbling across the dining room floor and wiping the sleep out of his eyes most determinedly.
Apparently some guy at the store was teasing Dawn's mom about love and extra hearts. That got all us hardened old ladies joking about how Dawn's mom doesn't need any love or extra hearts right now. I suggested she could give those potato hearts away and let someone else suffer.
Dawn's mother's personality is starting to reveal itself to me a little more. I have always found her hard to get to know. Some of it is language--she has the least English of anyone in the family. But some of it may be she's starting to spread her wings a little now that the mister is out of the house.
She cracked me up on Thursday night. Shortly after we got back from Subway, Joey asked me, "Does my mom look different to you?"
I really wasn't sure what I was supposed to see different at first. Still the same long dark hair in a loose ponytail down her back, still the same face. Then I noticed her shape. She had more of a waist than usual. I was trying to figure out how to say this nicely when she smiled and pulled up the side of her sweater to show the corset underneath. We all laughed.
"That would have been a lot of sit-ups," I said.
Last night she didn't bother--she was explaining our laugh from Thursday night to School Lady, so she pulled her shirt up a little to show no corset this time.
It was quite a hen party--three grown women, three girls and Angelito soaking up all that female attention. Joey hid out--he wrestled with School Lady's oldest when they first arrived but then he went back in his room with his music. Dawn was out--I didn't quite follow where, but her mom seemed to know where she was and didn't seem worried about her. So I just enjoyed my nopalitos con camaron with rice and tortillas.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Things Joey Wanted
So Joey talked a blue streak tonight. He wanted to know if the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier had ever broken. He wanted to know what it was like to look out from the top of a tall building. (We'll have to go to the Hancock or the Sears Tower sometime this summer.) He thought he'd like to live in a downtown condo someday. He wanted to know how old my mom is. He wanted to know if aliens really landed on Earth in spaceships that look like the new top of Soldier Field.
We talked more about aliens. He says he heard something about an alien sighting.
"I saw it on the news," he said.
I teased him about that. "Are you sure it was the news, or was it just Ver Para Creer?"
He wanted to know about driving, if it's hard to drive or easy. We agreed the hardest part of driving is knowing where you're going. He thought it would be fun to have a TV in the car for a driver to look at at stoplights and stop signs. I told him I thought that would be a very bad idea.
We talked about when you can get a driver's license and whether you can get one if you don't have papers. Maybe you can, but I thought you couldn't. There was a bill in the House to let people get licenses regardless of immigration status, but it didn't go anywhere. But Joey thought his brother at least got a learner's permit. Hunh.
Then we talked about GPS systems and how they work, how much they cost. I tried one on my road trip back in November, but I didn't like it talking to me, so I skipped it on the road trips in January.
Joey wanted to know why cops always hang out at Dunkin Donuts. I wonder why they do that, too. Then we talked about how surprisingly fast old fat guys can run if they have to. Joey said his dad can run fast, but it hurts his heart.
"Your dad is like thisclose to having a heart attack. He better not run," I said.
"Yeah."
By then we were at the Subway at 47th and Damen. Joey likes Subway. We went in and ordered the two footlongs for 9.99. Then the guy came out from the back with a big bag of cookies.
"Do you want these?" he asked. "They're too dark. We can't sell them, so I'd have to throw them away." There must have been at least a dozen cookies in there, probably more like 20.
Joey's eyes lit up and he took them. When we got out to the parking lot, he told me,
"You know, I was thinking I wanted some cookies. I was even going to ask you if we could get some."
"You had a genie today," I said. "You got all those cookies and you didn't even have to ask."
We got back to his house and we each took a cookie and gave cookies to his mom, sister and little brother. We all ate them together. Then he and I ate our sandwiches.
We talked more about aliens. He says he heard something about an alien sighting.
"I saw it on the news," he said.
I teased him about that. "Are you sure it was the news, or was it just Ver Para Creer?"
He wanted to know about driving, if it's hard to drive or easy. We agreed the hardest part of driving is knowing where you're going. He thought it would be fun to have a TV in the car for a driver to look at at stoplights and stop signs. I told him I thought that would be a very bad idea.
We talked about when you can get a driver's license and whether you can get one if you don't have papers. Maybe you can, but I thought you couldn't. There was a bill in the House to let people get licenses regardless of immigration status, but it didn't go anywhere. But Joey thought his brother at least got a learner's permit. Hunh.
Then we talked about GPS systems and how they work, how much they cost. I tried one on my road trip back in November, but I didn't like it talking to me, so I skipped it on the road trips in January.
Joey wanted to know why cops always hang out at Dunkin Donuts. I wonder why they do that, too. Then we talked about how surprisingly fast old fat guys can run if they have to. Joey said his dad can run fast, but it hurts his heart.
"Your dad is like thisclose to having a heart attack. He better not run," I said.
"Yeah."
By then we were at the Subway at 47th and Damen. Joey likes Subway. We went in and ordered the two footlongs for 9.99. Then the guy came out from the back with a big bag of cookies.
"Do you want these?" he asked. "They're too dark. We can't sell them, so I'd have to throw them away." There must have been at least a dozen cookies in there, probably more like 20.
Joey's eyes lit up and he took them. When we got out to the parking lot, he told me,
"You know, I was thinking I wanted some cookies. I was even going to ask you if we could get some."
"You had a genie today," I said. "You got all those cookies and you didn't even have to ask."
We got back to his house and we each took a cookie and gave cookies to his mom, sister and little brother. We all ate them together. Then he and I ate our sandwiches.
Marwen Report
So, tonight was Joey's last class of the quarter at Marwen. I borrowed Medicine Man's car and drove him up there. When I came back at 7 to pick him up, he was the last one still working on an illustration. (He told me later he and a friend spent a half hour in class playing a video game or something, so he was catching up.)
He had made a three-dimensional head of a Joker-like creature and put it on a background with the word Joker in graffiti behind the head. The colors were weird and scary, and its teeth were semi-formed and terrifying. His teacher told me he had done a great job on its hair, which you couldn't see very well in the 2-D drawing. His teacher will be displaying them as 3-D animations for the Marwen student show at the end of the month, and they will spin around on the screen, so I'll be able to see the back of the Joker's head then.
"He had a number of exhibit-worthy animations," the teacher told me. I was very psyched.
I hope he decides to take another class next quarter. He tells me Peter Pan wants to go, too. We'll see if we can make this happen. As long as Medicine Man's car is around, we might as well get some use out of it.
He had made a three-dimensional head of a Joker-like creature and put it on a background with the word Joker in graffiti behind the head. The colors were weird and scary, and its teeth were semi-formed and terrifying. His teacher told me he had done a great job on its hair, which you couldn't see very well in the 2-D drawing. His teacher will be displaying them as 3-D animations for the Marwen student show at the end of the month, and they will spin around on the screen, so I'll be able to see the back of the Joker's head then.
"He had a number of exhibit-worthy animations," the teacher told me. I was very psyched.
I hope he decides to take another class next quarter. He tells me Peter Pan wants to go, too. We'll see if we can make this happen. As long as Medicine Man's car is around, we might as well get some use out of it.
New Books for the Hood
Thanks to Alexander Russo at District 299 for posting about a group called First Book, which gets brand-new books into kids' hands that they can take home and keep. Here's what Alexander had to say about them, via a tip from the Community Media Workshop:
"First Book recently established a Chicagoland advisory board, which is now reaching out to teachers and directors of early education and afterschool programs -- along with teen groups, tutoring programs, and ESL classes (some bilingual books are available) -- to participate in the program."
To reach their new Chicagoland advisory board, email chicagolandreads@firstbook.org
or call Peter Gray at 312-953-2894.
I just called and they are emailing me the application for a book grant. I'll see whether Chavez and Su Casa are interested. If you're interested, email me at marshfieldtattler@hotmail.com and I'll forward you the application form. Established nonprofits are eligible to apply.
The tip from Community Media Workshop included a memorable statistic: while middle income neighborhoods have about 13 books for every child, poor neighborhoods may have only one age-appropriate book for every 300 children.
If other neighborhood folks are reading, don't be shy about contacting them or me for the application. My recent experience giving away books around here indicates our kids are hungry for them. And just yesterday after school, one little boy from up the street told me he's been reading the book about basketball he picked out from the stack a couple of weeks ago.
"First Book recently established a Chicagoland advisory board, which is now reaching out to teachers and directors of early education and afterschool programs -- along with teen groups, tutoring programs, and ESL classes (some bilingual books are available) -- to participate in the program."
To reach their new Chicagoland advisory board, email chicagolandreads@firstbook.org
or call Peter Gray at 312-953-2894.
I just called and they are emailing me the application for a book grant. I'll see whether Chavez and Su Casa are interested. If you're interested, email me at marshfieldtattler@hotmail.com and I'll forward you the application form. Established nonprofits are eligible to apply.
The tip from Community Media Workshop included a memorable statistic: while middle income neighborhoods have about 13 books for every child, poor neighborhoods may have only one age-appropriate book for every 300 children.
If other neighborhood folks are reading, don't be shy about contacting them or me for the application. My recent experience giving away books around here indicates our kids are hungry for them. And just yesterday after school, one little boy from up the street told me he's been reading the book about basketball he picked out from the stack a couple of weeks ago.
This Just In
In case you missed the update to the March 4 post, two clarifications:
1) The young man being chased by the police early Sunday morning was captured by police but not killed. He was apparently driving a stolen car around 6:30 a.m. when police started chasing him westward from 47th & Halsted. The car crashed at 47th and Wood. After the cops fired three shots, the driver got out and appeared to be ready to turn himself in, but then he jumped back in the car and managed to restart it. Police gave chase to 43rd and Paulina, where they caught him. No one else was injured.
2) Some inside poop the papers didn't give about the death of 18-year-old Jose Ignacio Garcia Barrera. My sources say he was shot at 48th and Seeley, then driven to where the police found him. They also say he was caught in a trap over a girl, drugs, or both.
In happier news, yesterday I was able to arrange for free tickets for a group of 20 or so to go to the Museum of Science and Industry over Chicago Public Schools spring break. Medicine Man is asking his Americorps buddies if a couple of them will help us chaperone. We should have up to four or five young people from Su Casa and the rest from here on Marshfield.
It seems like such a small effort in the face of all the heavy stuff going down here, but better to do the small step than none at all.
1) The young man being chased by the police early Sunday morning was captured by police but not killed. He was apparently driving a stolen car around 6:30 a.m. when police started chasing him westward from 47th & Halsted. The car crashed at 47th and Wood. After the cops fired three shots, the driver got out and appeared to be ready to turn himself in, but then he jumped back in the car and managed to restart it. Police gave chase to 43rd and Paulina, where they caught him. No one else was injured.
2) Some inside poop the papers didn't give about the death of 18-year-old Jose Ignacio Garcia Barrera. My sources say he was shot at 48th and Seeley, then driven to where the police found him. They also say he was caught in a trap over a girl, drugs, or both.
In happier news, yesterday I was able to arrange for free tickets for a group of 20 or so to go to the Museum of Science and Industry over Chicago Public Schools spring break. Medicine Man is asking his Americorps buddies if a couple of them will help us chaperone. We should have up to four or five young people from Su Casa and the rest from here on Marshfield.
It seems like such a small effort in the face of all the heavy stuff going down here, but better to do the small step than none at all.
Cut Your Property Taxes
Yesterday's Chicago Tribune ran this story about a special window later this month in which property owners can appeal their assessments. My block was reassessed two years ago (if memory serves) and I fought it then. When I got my bill recently it looked OK to me, not like a crazy increase, but I may double-check since we have an opportunity and home prices are falling here.
"According to data provided by the Chicago Association of Realtors in the last two years, the sales prices of single-family homes in the Englewood community have decreased by 13 percent or more, in the Belmont-Cragin area by 6 percent or more," Mayor Daley said at a press conference Wednesday.
The realtor data shows the largest declines in the city, 2 percent or more, in Englewood, New City (our neighborhood) and others: Belmont-Cragin, West Englewood,
Chicago Lawn; Auburn Gresham; West Pullman; Roseland; South Chicago; Garfield Ridge; Dunning; Calumet Heights; Gage Park; South Shore; Norwood Park; and Portage Park.
The special appeal period is from March 17-31. If you think your assessment is inaccurate, you can call 311 and someone from City Hall will get back to you. Or go straight to the Cook County Board of Review for an application.
"According to data provided by the Chicago Association of Realtors in the last two years, the sales prices of single-family homes in the Englewood community have decreased by 13 percent or more, in the Belmont-Cragin area by 6 percent or more," Mayor Daley said at a press conference Wednesday.
The realtor data shows the largest declines in the city, 2 percent or more, in Englewood, New City (our neighborhood) and others: Belmont-Cragin, West Englewood,
Chicago Lawn; Auburn Gresham; West Pullman; Roseland; South Chicago; Garfield Ridge; Dunning; Calumet Heights; Gage Park; South Shore; Norwood Park; and Portage Park.
The special appeal period is from March 17-31. If you think your assessment is inaccurate, you can call 311 and someone from City Hall will get back to you. Or go straight to the Cook County Board of Review for an application.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
"A Tough, Tough Weekend"
That's what Chicago Public Schools CEO Arne Duncan had to say about all the shooting going on last weekend, some of which took place here in Back of the Yards. This Chicago Tribune story mentioned three local victims:
Jose Garcia, 18, shot in the chest while sitting in a parked car on the 4900 block of South Hoyne on Saturday night.
Two other neighborhood young people who were wounded: a 14-year-old who goes to school at Hamline and a 16-year-old student at Richards.
I'm not sure about the ones that didn't make the news, but if I understood correctly, there was a collection at church on Sunday to send the body of another slain youngster back to Mexico. I thought this kid was killed by a speeding police car, but I'm not sure I understood everything correctly during announcements.
UPDATED March 6: The young man being chased by the police was captured but not killed. The collection at church was for Jose Garcia's body to be sent to Mexico for burial.
Someone I spoke with today counted five shootings here in the area in recent days, including his own very young cousin, who was injured by bullets going through a car window. It sounds like he will be OK.
Between conversations with NHS board members, folks at Holy Cross and staff at Big Picture, here's what I've learned about why this is happening. Essentially, one gang whose territory lies east of Ashland is feeling the heat from the three or four other gangs surrounding them. I heard today that four or five of the east of Ashland gang's members have been killed in the last five months or so.
"They're getting that 18th street mentality now--kill or be killed," said one of my sources. I am not sure the extent to which that is from networking or because guys from 18th Street are physically moving down here--we are getting folks who have been displaced by rising rents and property taxes in Pilsen. While I have raved in previous posts about the great new neighbors I'm getting thanks to displacement, perhaps others haven't been so lucky.
At any rate, the beleaguered gang is out for revenge. On Sunday night about 7 p.m., I walked past five or six police cars in about three blocks, starting at 48th and Ashland. The sirens went on for hours afterwards.
Some neighborhood observers are already betting it will be a long, deadly summer.
Jose Garcia, 18, shot in the chest while sitting in a parked car on the 4900 block of South Hoyne on Saturday night.
Two other neighborhood young people who were wounded: a 14-year-old who goes to school at Hamline and a 16-year-old student at Richards.
I'm not sure about the ones that didn't make the news, but if I understood correctly, there was a collection at church on Sunday to send the body of another slain youngster back to Mexico. I thought this kid was killed by a speeding police car, but I'm not sure I understood everything correctly during announcements.
UPDATED March 6: The young man being chased by the police was captured but not killed. The collection at church was for Jose Garcia's body to be sent to Mexico for burial.
Someone I spoke with today counted five shootings here in the area in recent days, including his own very young cousin, who was injured by bullets going through a car window. It sounds like he will be OK.
Between conversations with NHS board members, folks at Holy Cross and staff at Big Picture, here's what I've learned about why this is happening. Essentially, one gang whose territory lies east of Ashland is feeling the heat from the three or four other gangs surrounding them. I heard today that four or five of the east of Ashland gang's members have been killed in the last five months or so.
"They're getting that 18th street mentality now--kill or be killed," said one of my sources. I am not sure the extent to which that is from networking or because guys from 18th Street are physically moving down here--we are getting folks who have been displaced by rising rents and property taxes in Pilsen. While I have raved in previous posts about the great new neighbors I'm getting thanks to displacement, perhaps others haven't been so lucky.
At any rate, the beleaguered gang is out for revenge. On Sunday night about 7 p.m., I walked past five or six police cars in about three blocks, starting at 48th and Ashland. The sirens went on for hours afterwards.
Some neighborhood observers are already betting it will be a long, deadly summer.
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