In case anyone's checking, don't forget tomorrow night at 6 p.m. is the 931 beat meeting at Chavez Elementary School.
I didn't write about last month's meeting, but it was reasonably well attended and some people made a point of mentioning good news as well as complaints. And in one case, complaints were good news--the police noted that there were more calls about loitering and drug dealing at the northwest corner of 50th and Marshfield.
Our Officer Friendly made note of the block party on our block and also that open gym has resumed on Saturday mornings at Chavez. Over 50 kids were already showing up in August.
Just a quick note on the deluge--my basement is wet but seems to have taken a bit less of a beating than it did last time.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Joey & Picasso's Joint Artwork
Tonight I was in the living room pretending to get work done but really just listening to the crash of Joey's soccer ball against the side of my house. I got up to say hi and found Picasso on the doorstep. Joey had just thrown the ball at him and was running away laughing.
"Hey, [Picasso], you just started school!" I said. "How's it going?"
Fortunately, Picasso didn't mind being diverted from exacting revenge on Joey. Life at Curie is OK so far, he said. Then he upped the ante, saying, "It's fantastic, actually." I didn't get into details but I'm curious what's fantastic. Changing classes? New friends? Girls? Probably some combination of all those, plus goodness only knows what else. "They give homework, but it's not that hard," he said. He really likes high school. I'll have to ask him more about it tomorrow. It doesn't sound like he has any of the teachers I know over there.
Picasso had a notebook out, so I asked to see it. The photo above is what he showed me. Joey did the spray can and Picasso did the graffiti. Nice collaboration. I showed them some photos I took during vacation. While traveling on the east coast, my mother and sisters and I took in a hip hop exhibition now running at the National Portrait Gallery in Washington.
The exhibit features two DC graffiti artists whose tags are Arek and Con. I shot pictures of their tags with my phone and brought them home for Picasso and Joey to see. Now I see there's a Flickr group connected to the exhibit where you can share your own work. I'll have to show those guys the online exhibit and see if they want to send photos of their stuff to Flickr. (They permitted me to post the photo above to the blog.)
Streets & San Spotted on Marshfield
...taking photos, not hauling garbage. I took a walk this afternoon and ran into one of my neighbors who regularly attends our CAPS meeting. He crossed the street to come and tell me he had seen someone from Streets and San photographing the sidewalks today.
"Did you call?" he asked me.
"No."
But at the August CAPS meeting he and I spoke with Alderman Cochran's chief of staff, Karin Norington-Reaves, who told us that the 4800 block of South Marshfield was on the menu to get new sidewalks and street resurfacing. She hoped the work might get started next spring.
"I've been calling about this for six years," he told me. He looked ecstatic at the possibility something might actually get done. We smiled and crossed our fingers at each other in hopes it might start sooner. Stay tuned.
"Did you call?" he asked me.
"No."
But at the August CAPS meeting he and I spoke with Alderman Cochran's chief of staff, Karin Norington-Reaves, who told us that the 4800 block of South Marshfield was on the menu to get new sidewalks and street resurfacing. She hoped the work might get started next spring.
"I've been calling about this for six years," he told me. He looked ecstatic at the possibility something might actually get done. We smiled and crossed our fingers at each other in hopes it might start sooner. Stay tuned.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tattler Takes A Vacation, for Real
The Marshfield Tattler is on vacation. Happy Labor Day weekend and back to school, everyone!
Look for new posts here the week of September 8.
Look for new posts here the week of September 8.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Jumping Jim's Juice
On my way home this afternoon I was biking down Ashland Avenue and discovered Jumping Jim's Juice is now open. I've been watching this place get ready. It's a little juice stand at Ashland and 36th, on the west side of the street. It's got that tropical theme going--palm thatch roof and coconuts in the sign. They've taken over a chunk of the sidewalk with outdoor seating. There's still enough room to get by, though, so I can't complain. And when it's not busy you can walk your bike right up to the window, sit on a tall chair and not even lock the bike up.
The guy behind the window was hired two weeks ago and it was his first time there without the owner. He managed just fine. Someone else walked up after I got my order. The guy told me it does get busy around lunchtime, and that city workers have begun calling in orders as they come down Ashland and the orders are ready by the time they arrive.
I had the Liquid Gold smoothie: peaches, pineapple, mango, lemon, orange juice and banana. It was good. Good thing I had that, since dinner at Junior's ended up consisting of a few shreds of iceberg lettuce, but mostly cheese, chicken, beef and tortillas.
I sure hope these guys make it--it's the first thing with a menu of mostly fruit, vegetable and salad offerings I've seen in a two-mile radius of my house.
The guy behind the window was hired two weeks ago and it was his first time there without the owner. He managed just fine. Someone else walked up after I got my order. The guy told me it does get busy around lunchtime, and that city workers have begun calling in orders as they come down Ashland and the orders are ready by the time they arrive.
I had the Liquid Gold smoothie: peaches, pineapple, mango, lemon, orange juice and banana. It was good. Good thing I had that, since dinner at Junior's ended up consisting of a few shreds of iceberg lettuce, but mostly cheese, chicken, beef and tortillas.
I sure hope these guys make it--it's the first thing with a menu of mostly fruit, vegetable and salad offerings I've seen in a two-mile radius of my house.
Junior Gets Organized
Well, I just spent the last three hours helping Junior get his Golder College Prep stuff organized. He had all his papers for all his classes stuffed into one binder. He gets a million years' worth of homework every night--that was the point, but now I have to help him. Thank God one of the older Brady girls came by and helped him with math. She's good at math; I wasn't.
They do have a system of office hours--teachers stay an hour after school ends (that's 4 to 5 p.m.) and make themselves available to help. Of course it is different teachers every day, but I looked through the list and starred all the ones I thought could help Junior. They do physics first at Golder, too, which may get a little rough for him as it goes on.
So far he likes it, he says. He's made six or seven friends already. He's not worried about getting in fights anymore. He says there are a couple of guys you can tell are gangbangers but they keep it on the downlow. He already got his first detention, which he has to serve on Friday. Older Brady Girl was giving him advice about the buses so he can make it to school on time--he was late the first day and then was late to class, which together added up to four demerits, one detention.
I read through all the syllabi and as many papers as I could find. One teacher gave her phone number and email on the syllabus, so I'll be contacting her. My worst fear is that they won't modify their curriculum enough for him to keep up and then throw him out for bad grades. I asked his mom if she had copies of his IEP and she said no but she would check with Chavez and Golder about getting them. I've never seen his IEP either and I'd just like to know what it says. His teachers seem pretty willing to help out but I know how swamped high school teachers get. His detention slip had a note from a teacher about the second tardy and the person used the wrong first name for him. That doesn't surprise me at the beginning of the year but I want to make sure Junior gets known as a nice kid who needs extra help before he gets frustrated or anything bad happens.
It took us three hours to do his homework, get notebooks and folders at Walgreen's and organize his stuff. He's going to have to go it alone again next week, but he gets that he needs to go to the office hours after school.
I went to his house to work on the paper organizing, and his parents invited me to join them all for dinner. We had quesadillas with chicken and some spicy beef dish. Then Junior came back to my house with me so I could get him some construction paper for a project he has to do.
On our way across the street, Yup-yup came by, kind of loud and frantic. "I'm hungry," he said. "I just need four dollars."
"I don't have it," I said, which was true. Junior's mom had given him $20 for school supplies but what we got cost $29. I paid for $20 and Junior picked up the $9. Between school expenses and child care for the younger two boys, this Golder College Prep venture is costing Junior's family an arm and a leg.
"But I can give you something to eat," I continued. "Just give me five minutes to take care of this guy," I said, pointing at Junior. Yup-yup went away.
"Man, I feel sorry for him," said Junior. "I bet he never even went to high school."
"You're right," I said. "I bet he never set foot in one."
On his way out, Junior thanked me again, profusely. He's a really good kid. He's thinking about commercial art as a career possibility. I've never really seen him draw, though, so I don't know if he's good or if he's just picking up the bug from Picasso. I'll have to see if we can hook Junior up with Marwen next summer.
Oh, so after Junior left, I scouted around and found a nice peach for Yup-yup. I went outside with it and he came to the gate. "I have something for you," he said. It was a painting of four leopards. I believe he said he liked this because he himself is like a panther. Whatever. I handed over the peach, thanked him for the painting and headed back in the house.
They do have a system of office hours--teachers stay an hour after school ends (that's 4 to 5 p.m.) and make themselves available to help. Of course it is different teachers every day, but I looked through the list and starred all the ones I thought could help Junior. They do physics first at Golder, too, which may get a little rough for him as it goes on.
So far he likes it, he says. He's made six or seven friends already. He's not worried about getting in fights anymore. He says there are a couple of guys you can tell are gangbangers but they keep it on the downlow. He already got his first detention, which he has to serve on Friday. Older Brady Girl was giving him advice about the buses so he can make it to school on time--he was late the first day and then was late to class, which together added up to four demerits, one detention.
I read through all the syllabi and as many papers as I could find. One teacher gave her phone number and email on the syllabus, so I'll be contacting her. My worst fear is that they won't modify their curriculum enough for him to keep up and then throw him out for bad grades. I asked his mom if she had copies of his IEP and she said no but she would check with Chavez and Golder about getting them. I've never seen his IEP either and I'd just like to know what it says. His teachers seem pretty willing to help out but I know how swamped high school teachers get. His detention slip had a note from a teacher about the second tardy and the person used the wrong first name for him. That doesn't surprise me at the beginning of the year but I want to make sure Junior gets known as a nice kid who needs extra help before he gets frustrated or anything bad happens.
It took us three hours to do his homework, get notebooks and folders at Walgreen's and organize his stuff. He's going to have to go it alone again next week, but he gets that he needs to go to the office hours after school.
I went to his house to work on the paper organizing, and his parents invited me to join them all for dinner. We had quesadillas with chicken and some spicy beef dish. Then Junior came back to my house with me so I could get him some construction paper for a project he has to do.
On our way across the street, Yup-yup came by, kind of loud and frantic. "I'm hungry," he said. "I just need four dollars."
"I don't have it," I said, which was true. Junior's mom had given him $20 for school supplies but what we got cost $29. I paid for $20 and Junior picked up the $9. Between school expenses and child care for the younger two boys, this Golder College Prep venture is costing Junior's family an arm and a leg.
"But I can give you something to eat," I continued. "Just give me five minutes to take care of this guy," I said, pointing at Junior. Yup-yup went away.
"Man, I feel sorry for him," said Junior. "I bet he never even went to high school."
"You're right," I said. "I bet he never set foot in one."
On his way out, Junior thanked me again, profusely. He's a really good kid. He's thinking about commercial art as a career possibility. I've never really seen him draw, though, so I don't know if he's good or if he's just picking up the bug from Picasso. I'll have to see if we can hook Junior up with Marwen next summer.
Oh, so after Junior left, I scouted around and found a nice peach for Yup-yup. I went outside with it and he came to the gate. "I have something for you," he said. It was a painting of four leopards. I believe he said he liked this because he himself is like a panther. Whatever. I handed over the peach, thanked him for the painting and headed back in the house.
Peace and Education Coalition Launches New Web Site
The new Peace and Education Coalition of Back of the Yards web site features many more photos, a signup for email alerts and links to schools, parishes and social service agencies here in the neighborhoods.
The new site was announced at today's Peace and Education Coalition meeting, the first of the new school year. About 50 people attended, including many new faces. 9th District Commander Eugene Roy noted it was the best turnout he had yet seen.
Some key news about neighborhood services:
The University of Illinois Mile Square health center at 47th and Loomis is now offering shots and physicals for back to school to all families whether or not they have insurance. The clinic is open until 8 p.m. on Wednesdays and hopes to start Saturday hours soon.
Neighborhood Housing Services has relocated to the new Park Federal Bank building at 47th and Honore. The building has a large community room where NHS will hold homebuyer education classes in Spanish. Foreclosure prevention counseling is also available.
All three Peace and Education Alternative High School campuses have space for new students. Back of the Yards Neighborhood Council is providing free shuttle service for students who have to cross gang lines to get to the campus of their choice. The Irene Dugan campus is now dedicated to service 15 and 16 year olds who are at risk of dropping out or have stopped attending their assigned high school. Dugan now has about 16 students on the books and has space for up to 30. Application forms are available from the Dugan website.
At Second Chance, 46 students are currently enrolled and there is space for 80. Second Chance continue to serve students ages 17 or older who have dropped out and want to finish high school. Call 773-535-1450 for more information and to obtain an application.
This fall, the Peace and Education Alternative High School is opening its third campus at 4946 S. Paulina. (They will be sharing space with Big Picture High School.) Right now 38 students are enrolled and they can take up to 50.
Last year, 36 students graduated from the alternative high school campuses. The school counselor contacted 32 of those graduates over the summer. One is attending Eastern Illinois University. A dozen are attending two-year schools, mostly City Colleges: Daley, Kennedy-King, Harold Washington and Wright. Two of those 12 students already have plans to transfer to four-year schools: one to the UIC College of Nursing and another to Chicago State. Three are in job training programs and one is working full-time, so just over half of the recent graduates are living out concrete postsecondary plans, most of them in some kind of college.
The new site was announced at today's Peace and Education Coalition meeting, the first of the new school year. About 50 people attended, including many new faces. 9th District Commander Eugene Roy noted it was the best turnout he had yet seen.
Some key news about neighborhood services:
The University of Illinois Mile Square health center at 47th and Loomis is now offering shots and physicals for back to school to all families whether or not they have insurance. The clinic is open until 8 p.m. on Wednesdays and hopes to start Saturday hours soon.
Neighborhood Housing Services has relocated to the new Park Federal Bank building at 47th and Honore. The building has a large community room where NHS will hold homebuyer education classes in Spanish. Foreclosure prevention counseling is also available.
All three Peace and Education Alternative High School campuses have space for new students. Back of the Yards Neighborhood Council is providing free shuttle service for students who have to cross gang lines to get to the campus of their choice. The Irene Dugan campus is now dedicated to service 15 and 16 year olds who are at risk of dropping out or have stopped attending their assigned high school. Dugan now has about 16 students on the books and has space for up to 30. Application forms are available from the Dugan website.
At Second Chance, 46 students are currently enrolled and there is space for 80. Second Chance continue to serve students ages 17 or older who have dropped out and want to finish high school. Call 773-535-1450 for more information and to obtain an application.
This fall, the Peace and Education Alternative High School is opening its third campus at 4946 S. Paulina. (They will be sharing space with Big Picture High School.) Right now 38 students are enrolled and they can take up to 50.
Last year, 36 students graduated from the alternative high school campuses. The school counselor contacted 32 of those graduates over the summer. One is attending Eastern Illinois University. A dozen are attending two-year schools, mostly City Colleges: Daley, Kennedy-King, Harold Washington and Wright. Two of those 12 students already have plans to transfer to four-year schools: one to the UIC College of Nursing and another to Chicago State. Three are in job training programs and one is working full-time, so just over half of the recent graduates are living out concrete postsecondary plans, most of them in some kind of college.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Happier Joey News
I picked up a book in Borders last week, not knowing whether it was for Joey or Picasso. It's the first book in some Korean anime-style series (they have a different word for it which I no longer remember). This one was bloody and gory but left out the naked girls than were in some of the others I flipped through, so I thought their moms wouldn't get mad if they found it lying around the house.
Since I helped Picasso convince his mom it was OK to let him go do some graffiti over by 36th and Kedzie, he hasn't been as bored and antsy. Joey is still going batty even though school has started for him, so I gave him the anime book this afternoon. He was sitting out front talking on a cell phone when I came out and left the book on the step for him.
Later I asked him if he liked it and he said, "Yes" with the happy smile that reminded me my old buddy Joey is still in that teenage boy somewhere. This from the guy who told me a few months ago, "I don't like books." (I know you don't like most books, Joey, but I'm going to keep an eye out for that rare book you might actually like despite yourself.)
I might go buy a copy of Pride of Baghdad for him. If I give him a library copy it will probably get lost in their house and then I'll have to pay a gigantic fine, so I might as well buy it outright from the start.
Joey's birthday was last week and I missed it. Dawn's was earlier in August and I haven't even seen her. Jeez, that's pretty bad.
Since I helped Picasso convince his mom it was OK to let him go do some graffiti over by 36th and Kedzie, he hasn't been as bored and antsy. Joey is still going batty even though school has started for him, so I gave him the anime book this afternoon. He was sitting out front talking on a cell phone when I came out and left the book on the step for him.
Later I asked him if he liked it and he said, "Yes" with the happy smile that reminded me my old buddy Joey is still in that teenage boy somewhere. This from the guy who told me a few months ago, "I don't like books." (I know you don't like most books, Joey, but I'm going to keep an eye out for that rare book you might actually like despite yourself.)
I might go buy a copy of Pride of Baghdad for him. If I give him a library copy it will probably get lost in their house and then I'll have to pay a gigantic fine, so I might as well buy it outright from the start.
Joey's birthday was last week and I missed it. Dawn's was earlier in August and I haven't even seen her. Jeez, that's pretty bad.
Joey's IEP
Well, it's only taken the better part of a year, but this afternoon Joey's mom told me she had gone to Chavez today and then produced a copy of his IEP.
It's a rather faint copy and not always easy to read the handwriting. Worse, it really doesn't tell me a whole lot I didn't already know. They gave him reading and math tests in English and a reading test in Spanish. On the English-language reading tests he scored on a beginning first grade level in letter and word recognition and a late first-grade level in reading comprehension and spelling. (I'm shocked he did that well in spelling, to tell you the truth.) In Spanish he scored early second grade in reading comprehension.
On the math tests (given in English) he scored in the third grade range, higher in computation than in "concepts and applications," which is probably a fancy way of saying "word problems."
There's a short paragraph under the heading "General Intelligence" which appears to have something to say about testing but I'm not sure if it refers to the same tests or to others not described in detail here. At the end it says a bit about his strengths and weaknesses as observed by the psychologist who gave the tests (I gather). "Strengths were noted in visual motor and perceptual organization (drawing/artistic). Deficits were observed in short-term auditory recall, verbal abstract reasoning, word and general knowledge."
No s--t, Sherlock. How much did they pay you to figure that out? I got that far without a degree in psychology, just by hanging out with him and not even for very long before this sort of thing became apparent. I expect more from someone who makes a living at writing IEPs, like what's at the root of this? Dyslexia? Something else?
Of course, as a friend of mine who's written a good bit about reading and has seen her fair share of CPS IEPs says, "It's a pretty standard CPS IEP: it doesn't diagnose anything and it doesn't tell you how to fix it."
It sure doesn't. It doesn't even tell you whether or not he met the academic targets they set up for him last fall--I wonder if anyone has bothered to check up. (I mean, besides the fact I'm pretty sure he didn't meet them. Somehow he got out of 6th grade, but I'm not totally for sure how. Not that holding him back would have been a better option--he'd probably have just felt dumber, been mad about being separated from his classmates and acted out more than he already is.) He's supposed to spend nearly half his week in a self-contained special ed classroom. Last year he told me there were fights all the time in there, he wasn't learning anything and he kept getting pulled out of his English class to go, then he'd miss the homework back in the regular class. (His last year's English teacher was smart and nice, too. She seemed genuinely concerned for his academic welfare and we tried to work together on some of his assignments.)
All right, enough already. After she gave this to me earlier tonight and I read it, I biked out to Bridgeport's Scoops for an ice cream cone. You could call it a consolation prize, I suppose.
It's a rather faint copy and not always easy to read the handwriting. Worse, it really doesn't tell me a whole lot I didn't already know. They gave him reading and math tests in English and a reading test in Spanish. On the English-language reading tests he scored on a beginning first grade level in letter and word recognition and a late first-grade level in reading comprehension and spelling. (I'm shocked he did that well in spelling, to tell you the truth.) In Spanish he scored early second grade in reading comprehension.
On the math tests (given in English) he scored in the third grade range, higher in computation than in "concepts and applications," which is probably a fancy way of saying "word problems."
There's a short paragraph under the heading "General Intelligence" which appears to have something to say about testing but I'm not sure if it refers to the same tests or to others not described in detail here. At the end it says a bit about his strengths and weaknesses as observed by the psychologist who gave the tests (I gather). "Strengths were noted in visual motor and perceptual organization (drawing/artistic). Deficits were observed in short-term auditory recall, verbal abstract reasoning, word and general knowledge."
No s--t, Sherlock. How much did they pay you to figure that out? I got that far without a degree in psychology, just by hanging out with him and not even for very long before this sort of thing became apparent. I expect more from someone who makes a living at writing IEPs, like what's at the root of this? Dyslexia? Something else?
Of course, as a friend of mine who's written a good bit about reading and has seen her fair share of CPS IEPs says, "It's a pretty standard CPS IEP: it doesn't diagnose anything and it doesn't tell you how to fix it."
It sure doesn't. It doesn't even tell you whether or not he met the academic targets they set up for him last fall--I wonder if anyone has bothered to check up. (I mean, besides the fact I'm pretty sure he didn't meet them. Somehow he got out of 6th grade, but I'm not totally for sure how. Not that holding him back would have been a better option--he'd probably have just felt dumber, been mad about being separated from his classmates and acted out more than he already is.) He's supposed to spend nearly half his week in a self-contained special ed classroom. Last year he told me there were fights all the time in there, he wasn't learning anything and he kept getting pulled out of his English class to go, then he'd miss the homework back in the regular class. (His last year's English teacher was smart and nice, too. She seemed genuinely concerned for his academic welfare and we tried to work together on some of his assignments.)
All right, enough already. After she gave this to me earlier tonight and I read it, I biked out to Bridgeport's Scoops for an ice cream cone. You could call it a consolation prize, I suppose.
Holy Cross/IHM's Letter to McCain and Obama
The immigration committee at Holy Cross/IHM Parish is in the midst of a letter campaign. Committee chair Jose Alonso wrote a letter on the topic of immigration which was read by another committee member during announcements at the 10:30 Mass at Holy Cross yesterday. Parishioners had the opportunity to sign copies of the letter after Mass ended--a bunch of us stood around with clipboards and copies of the letter in English and Spanish. Copies will be sent to both presidential candidates; I just got an email saying over 300 letters were signed and returned. The letter drive will continue next weekend at the 9 a.m. Mass at Immaculate Heart of Mary.
Here is the English version of the letter:
“This country does not care about liberty when there are immigration raids taking place.”
- A teenager from the Back of the Yards, Chicago, IL
Recently, several Mexican-American youth from our parish, Holy Cross/IHM, in the Back of the Yards traveled to Philadelphia with our pastor, Father Bruce Wellems. During the trip, the group visited one of the greatest symbols of this country: the Liberty Bell. One young man stood near the Liberty Bell, but he would not look at it. The rest of the group was busy taking pictures, while he stood apart with his head down. Having visited several historic places, our pastor thought that perhaps he was just tired. He then approached the young man and asked if he had seen the Liberty Bell. The young man then made the comment stated above. How can there be true freedom when the government is rejecting the poor and those who are oppressed? How can this be a nation who cares about the freedom of others when they unjustly chase immigrants?
These questions reflect one of the most pressing concerns of the Back of the Yards today, a community comprised predominantly of Mexican-American immigrants. Even now, more than 100 years after Upton Sinclair documented the struggles of immigrants in this small neighborhood on the southside of Chicago, the immigrant spirit of hope lives on. However, the hope that our great country represents is endangered when our community is threatened with tearing apart its families, depriving its children of the right to an education in this country, and losing the opportunity to earn a dignified living.
Admittedly, there was anger in the young man’s statement. Our pastor responded to his statement by reminding him that the Liberty Bell is cracked. It is not perfect, and so too, with freedom – we are still a people who are not completely free. We are still searching for a way to respect the rights of all people and healing is needed. It will take time, but it can only happen with the efforts of those who truly care and believe that freedom, safety and respect of all people is possible. He represents the next generation of Americans and his statement represents the need to reaffirm the values that this country was founded upon. Our pastor was able to point to the following biblical quote inscribed on the Liberty Bell, to comfort the young man, “Proclaim LIBERTY throughout all the Land unto ALL the Inhabitants thereof.”
We are asking for you to be courier of the values reflected in this quote by supporting just immigration reform. This country has a history of compassion towards immigrants and we are now asking you to continue that tradition. We are asking that you be an advocate for our community by: (1) supporting the unification of our families; (2) defending the opportunity to have our children educated in this country; and (3) preserving our chance to earn a dignified living. Thank for your time in reading this letter. Good luck and God Bless.
For more specifics on the kinds of situations many of my neighbors and fellow parishioners are facing, I highly recommend this 2006 article from U.S. Catholic.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Pride of Baghdad takes Marshfield Avenue by Storm
Last Tuesday I took a timeout in the middle of the work day to return a pile of books to the Back of the Yards branch library and peruse the shelves for my next big haul.
At the last minute, I stumbled across the graphic novel Pride of Baghdad and just thought the premise--that the bombing of Baghdad set a pride of lions free in the middle of a war zone--was so mind-boggling I had to take the book home and see what my Marshfield buddies would make of it.
I walked back from the library just in time to catch the end of the day pedestrian traffic at Chavez. One of the Brady families was walking home with their mom. I caught Middle Brady Boy, showed him the book and asked if he wanted to borrow it. He said yes.
On Thursday afternoon he was done. "Do you want your book back?" he asked.
Wow, I thought, that was fast. He either loved it or he hated it. I was on my way out and knew he wouldn't catch me until the weekend, so I told him to hang on to it for a couple more days.
This afternoon I caught up with him. His little brother, Brady Bughunter, was in front of the house and I asked if he could go tell his brother I was there. Middle Brady Boy promptly arrived with the book.
"Did you like it?" I asked.
"Yeah!" he said.
"What happened to the lions? I didn't read the whole thing."
He proceeded to walk me through the ending, reading me parts and flipping around in the last section to explain everything. I'll try to keep the spoilage to a minimum, but let's just say it's not a happy ending for the lions. Middle Brady was super-enthusiastic in the retelling, and I got a great chance to listen to him read out loud. (Teacherly note: He and Sarah both just mumble their way through words they don't know and keep right on going. It's cute and I don't want to break the flow, but I've been trying to figure out sneaky ways to pronounce and/or discuss the words that are unfamiliar to them in hopes the information will stick surreptitiously.)
So he really liked the book. So did his big brother. Oldest Brady Boy rode his bike past my house just after I had walked in my front gate. "Hey, did you read this book, too?" I asked. He said yes. "How did you like it?"
"I liked it," he said. "It was cool."
These ringing endorsements led me to offer it to Sarah, who is interested in all things animal, too. "The ending is really sad, though," I said. I felt like I had to warn her. The illustrations do not pull their punches in terms of warfare, blood and guts. I'm back to the same inner argument I have with myself all the time: the inner kid who loved to read and still thanks the universe regularly that her parents had the wit not to censor her reading fights with the inner grownup who worries that the neighbor parents might think badly of her for bringing their children bloody tales of warfare and death or whatever the hot button the reading selection pushes is.
Tonight Sarah read me some of her favorite parts of a book she picked up at school. I don't remember the title or the author, but it is a comic writer's memoir, done so it looks like a lined journal. The book mixes short narratives with mini-comics. It's all about the miseries of elementary school, and it is keeping Sarah in stitches even though she's mumbling her way through some unfamiliar words as she goes. I'll get the title from her sometime soon and let you all know. Her report on the planets is pretty far along--she got up to Uranus on her own and her teacher said they could have time in class to finish tomorrow. She did a good job picking out the interesting bits for her summary. I gave her one spelling word of the day: distance.
If you're curious about Pride of Baghdad, this link will take you to Amazon.
After the Deluge
Well, I finally faced up to the soggy boxes in my basement this weekend. Yesterday afternoon and this morning I surveyed the wreckage. It was worse than I thought. Pretty much everything directly on the floor was wet and moldy. I've tossed most of it. There was one dry patch toward the basement windows where some boxes survived wet-free, and boxes atop other boxes seem to have fared OK.
I lost one suitcase full of clothes-mostly t-shirts, a few seem salvageable and are drying out in my back yard, but mostly it was a lot of old papers and journals.
They say if you haven't opened or looked in a box in over a year, you should throw it out sight unseen. Although I peeked in a couple of them, many were so far gone I didn't bother looking. Perhaps getting rid of that stuff is the silver lining from those crazy rain clouds.
I lost one suitcase full of clothes-mostly t-shirts, a few seem salvageable and are drying out in my back yard, but mostly it was a lot of old papers and journals.
They say if you haven't opened or looked in a box in over a year, you should throw it out sight unseen. Although I peeked in a couple of them, many were so far gone I didn't bother looking. Perhaps getting rid of that stuff is the silver lining from those crazy rain clouds.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Brighton Park Shout Out
OK, since I'm still kinda on vacation, let me encourage you all to hit the warehouse over on Talman in Brighton Park tomorrow and pick up some yummy cheese. The warehouse folks' email also lists some other cool places to check out in the neighborhoods, so I'll pass on to you what they passed on to me. I may have to head out to La Palapa at 34th & Damen for some ceviche myself. Here goes:
Cheese at our Warehouse !!
We are back. Our warehouse is open to you this Saturday.
When:
August 23rd
September 6th
September 20th
And then every other Saturday
What time: 9 am to 1 pm
Where: At our warehouse
4727 S. Talman , Chicago 60632 ( between Western and California
Avenues )
Parking: Lots of free street parking
Taste and then cruise the racks in our warehouse for much more. All for sale at “wholesale” pricing.
What Else !!
Leah Zeldes suggested that I tell you what else there is to do in our area when you come out to our warehouse for cheese. So here it is:
La Palapa
2000 W. 34th Street
Chicago
This little concrete block structure is about the size of a garage. Nestled against the south slope of the Damen and Archer underpass it goes almost unnoticed and when it is seen most think it is part of the Huck Finn’s donut shop. Get closer and you’ll see that 34th street is like a border. In this instance you have to change the expression to “north of the border” when you walk into the gravel lot in front of La Palapa and amongst the shaggy umbrella tables. Mexican music , a sunny afternoon, cool wine stowed in the cooler at your feet, some of the best Mexican seafood around. Shrimp cocktails, shrimp empanadas, grilled calamari with garlic and chiles, fresh oysters, seviche and so much more. You can’t eat everything you’ll order but you’ll order it all anyway. The waitress won’t mind that you’ve “snuck in” your own wine because you’re discrete. You’ll be amazed at how much delicious seafood $30 buys for two people in this remarkable cantina.
Tom Tom Tamales
4750 S. Washtenaw
Chicago, IL 60632
773-523-5675
Chicago’s most famous tamale. Since the nineteen-fifties these are the tamales that have been served in every Greek hotdog and hamburger stand in the City as well as from just about every pushcart. Back then the vendor kept the tamales in the steaming compartment with the buns. This “secret” gave the buns that little extra mysterious flavor.
You can pre-order by calling in or stop in and order from two sign boards which also list other Chicago food treasures such as: Mary Ann bakery buns, chili, hamburgers, hotdogs, Italian Beef and condiments. This is where to get your green day-glo hotdog relish known as piccalilli. All you’ll need to supply is you own pushcart.
Fronczak Hardware
2606 W. 47th Street
773-847-3138
Three store fronts wide, front to back, side to side, top to bottom, two full basements and two garages. Hardly enough space to walk. This old time hardware store is the real deal. They have just about everything and Edward Kowynia and his wife know everything there is to know about their stock and trade. Just a few blocks away a Home Depot opened recently and now this Mom-and-Pop is struggling a bit. They say they have “good days and bad days”. Check this old fashioned hardware store out while you still can.
Cheese at our Warehouse !!
We are back. Our warehouse is open to you this Saturday.
When:
August 23rd
September 6th
September 20th
And then every other Saturday
What time: 9 am to 1 pm
Where: At our warehouse
4727 S. Talman , Chicago 60632 ( between Western and California
Avenues )
Parking: Lots of free street parking
Taste and then cruise the racks in our warehouse for much more. All for sale at “wholesale” pricing.
What Else !!
Leah Zeldes suggested that I tell you what else there is to do in our area when you come out to our warehouse for cheese. So here it is:
La Palapa
2000 W. 34th Street
Chicago
This little concrete block structure is about the size of a garage. Nestled against the south slope of the Damen and Archer underpass it goes almost unnoticed and when it is seen most think it is part of the Huck Finn’s donut shop. Get closer and you’ll see that 34th street is like a border. In this instance you have to change the expression to “north of the border” when you walk into the gravel lot in front of La Palapa and amongst the shaggy umbrella tables. Mexican music , a sunny afternoon, cool wine stowed in the cooler at your feet, some of the best Mexican seafood around. Shrimp cocktails, shrimp empanadas, grilled calamari with garlic and chiles, fresh oysters, seviche and so much more. You can’t eat everything you’ll order but you’ll order it all anyway. The waitress won’t mind that you’ve “snuck in” your own wine because you’re discrete. You’ll be amazed at how much delicious seafood $30 buys for two people in this remarkable cantina.
Tom Tom Tamales
4750 S. Washtenaw
Chicago, IL 60632
773-523-5675
Chicago’s most famous tamale. Since the nineteen-fifties these are the tamales that have been served in every Greek hotdog and hamburger stand in the City as well as from just about every pushcart. Back then the vendor kept the tamales in the steaming compartment with the buns. This “secret” gave the buns that little extra mysterious flavor.
You can pre-order by calling in or stop in and order from two sign boards which also list other Chicago food treasures such as: Mary Ann bakery buns, chili, hamburgers, hotdogs, Italian Beef and condiments. This is where to get your green day-glo hotdog relish known as piccalilli. All you’ll need to supply is you own pushcart.
Fronczak Hardware
2606 W. 47th Street
773-847-3138
Three store fronts wide, front to back, side to side, top to bottom, two full basements and two garages. Hardly enough space to walk. This old time hardware store is the real deal. They have just about everything and Edward Kowynia and his wife know everything there is to know about their stock and trade. Just a few blocks away a Home Depot opened recently and now this Mom-and-Pop is struggling a bit. They say they have “good days and bad days”. Check this old fashioned hardware store out while you still can.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Pride on Marshfield Avenue
..and no, I don't mean everybody's all jazzed about the new landscape in the traffic circle. Tonight Mrs. Ribs was hanging with her new neighbor and enjoying photos of him and his partner at the Gay Pride Parade.
Yes, that's right, everyone, Marshfield got its first gay couple. (And they bought their house for about eighty grand more than I paid for mine, I hear. Even in this housing market. So I really like them.)
I've been very hesitant to write about this just because I wanted to see how they would be received. They've actually been here a few months now, and you know what, it's all pretty much been fabulous. Not perfect--I've heard a few guys over by Mr. Worrisome's house muttering about "those gay-ass neighbors"--but not bad.
There's a little network of three or four of us homeowners who smiled real big when we saw the For Sale sign go down, and smiled even bigger when we saw the new owners. I ran into Bob the Builder in Dunkin Donuts one Sunday in June, a few weeks after they arrived. His reaction was one I had wondered about--he seems like a Mr. Macho kind of guy. But his business is real estate, so he's way more interested in what those fellows might mean for our property values than whether they sashay down the street, so to speak.
The other reason you've heard so little is I haven't figured out names for them. But one of them is going to be Green Thumb if he follows through on his offer to help me keep the plants in the traffic circle looking nice. Given the state of my yard and indoor plants, my own handle should switch from Maritza to Black Thumb.
I think now it's time for Barack Obama to come and do a campaign commercial on our block. We've got the Mexican evangelicals next door to the Irish Catholic across the street from the African-American union leader who likes to hang with the gayboys next door. Who own a pit bull. He's really a sweet dog, too.
Yes, that's right, everyone, Marshfield got its first gay couple. (And they bought their house for about eighty grand more than I paid for mine, I hear. Even in this housing market. So I really like them.)
I've been very hesitant to write about this just because I wanted to see how they would be received. They've actually been here a few months now, and you know what, it's all pretty much been fabulous. Not perfect--I've heard a few guys over by Mr. Worrisome's house muttering about "those gay-ass neighbors"--but not bad.
There's a little network of three or four of us homeowners who smiled real big when we saw the For Sale sign go down, and smiled even bigger when we saw the new owners. I ran into Bob the Builder in Dunkin Donuts one Sunday in June, a few weeks after they arrived. His reaction was one I had wondered about--he seems like a Mr. Macho kind of guy. But his business is real estate, so he's way more interested in what those fellows might mean for our property values than whether they sashay down the street, so to speak.
The other reason you've heard so little is I haven't figured out names for them. But one of them is going to be Green Thumb if he follows through on his offer to help me keep the plants in the traffic circle looking nice. Given the state of my yard and indoor plants, my own handle should switch from Maritza to Black Thumb.
I think now it's time for Barack Obama to come and do a campaign commercial on our block. We've got the Mexican evangelicals next door to the Irish Catholic across the street from the African-American union leader who likes to hang with the gayboys next door. Who own a pit bull. He's really a sweet dog, too.
Tattler's on HuffPost Chicago
The Huffington Post is coming to town, and Marshfield Tattler got in on the ground floor.
Check out the beta version here.
Arianna promises more local HuffPosts to come and waxes enthusiastic about Chi-town here.
I'm pretty sure I owe my front-row seat to Alexander Russo over at District 299. Thanks!
Oh, and last month the Tattler made a list of digital-diversity bookmarks compiled through a Poynter Institute workshop. (For readers unfamiliar with the inner workings of journalism, Poynter is the professional training and industry resource.) That's thanks to Wendy Turner over at vocalo, where they've been more than gracious by reading some of the posts on air.
Although all this buzz is certainly a spur to blog more often, I've been pretty knocked out since the block party and have taken a big mental vacation. I work during the day, often away by choice from Marshfield Avenue, and I've been taking some north side vacations on the weekends. If I'm lucky August will remain a bit slow here at the Tattler, but here are a few quick updates:
The traffic circle still looks good--I just watered it this evening. Beautiful night--everyone was out. Peter Pan's mom got on a bike and rode up and down the block with her younger kids. Mrs. Ribs hung out with the new neighbors next door to her. Mr. Worrisome had a real lady friend of his to attend to, so I wasn't bothered with marriage proposals while hauling a two-gallon watering can back and forth. Although there was some bustle at the corner and the unmistakable smell of marijuana in the air, I'll fess up that I didn't call the cops for once. Why mess up a mellow evening?
Junior starts high school tomorrow. He called last week for help with math--he was calculating the perimeter of squares and rectangles. He caught on pretty fast, by phone, for how to do it.
Joey is at Chavez. His folks couldn't get transportation together to send him to Perspectives Math & Science. He says the new school year is going OK. I don't believe him. His dad has been around the house a bit more of late-that's probably good for him but maybe or maybe not so good for Dawn.
The younger Brady girl who did Salud will join her older sister in high school starting tomorrow. They made her read a book over the summer-she came by last week looking for editing feedback on what she had written. The English teacher over there gave a great assignment and she did a pretty good job with it on her own, though there were a few things she improved after we talked. For someone who says she likes math better than reading, I thought she did a great job on the assignment.
I went to Home Depot after church this morning in search of plywood boards for our budding graffiti artists to spray without risking arrest. There are some in the $5 to $10 range, so I'm willing to spring. I didn't ask if they can deliver. When I'm ready to buy, I'll find out.
The Brady girl who was looking for a scientific calculator got one for $13, better than the $18 I saw it for up on the north side. I don't know where she picked it up, though.
Medicine Man stopped by last Thursday to get his stuff out of the basement. It mostly survived the deluge unscathed--a couple of boxes were a bit damp, I gather. I kept an eye on the U-Haul while MM, his mom and brother, my new tenant Shutterbug and Junior and Picasso (I think I called him Orozco before but Picasso is sticking better in my head, so that's who my buddy who likes graffiti and isn't Joey is now) all schlepped everything out of the basement.
About half a dozen people going by asked, "You're not moving, are you?" They were all relieved when I said no. I decided to start planning my obsolescence on this block by sending three other people to Rep. Esther Golar's block organizing seminar on Saturday morning. I went shopping at the Brown Elephant in Andersonville instead. It's August, people, and I'm as much on vacation as I can be and still make money.
Check out the beta version here.
Arianna promises more local HuffPosts to come and waxes enthusiastic about Chi-town here.
I'm pretty sure I owe my front-row seat to Alexander Russo over at District 299. Thanks!
Oh, and last month the Tattler made a list of digital-diversity bookmarks compiled through a Poynter Institute workshop. (For readers unfamiliar with the inner workings of journalism, Poynter is the professional training and industry resource.) That's thanks to Wendy Turner over at vocalo, where they've been more than gracious by reading some of the posts on air.
Although all this buzz is certainly a spur to blog more often, I've been pretty knocked out since the block party and have taken a big mental vacation. I work during the day, often away by choice from Marshfield Avenue, and I've been taking some north side vacations on the weekends. If I'm lucky August will remain a bit slow here at the Tattler, but here are a few quick updates:
The traffic circle still looks good--I just watered it this evening. Beautiful night--everyone was out. Peter Pan's mom got on a bike and rode up and down the block with her younger kids. Mrs. Ribs hung out with the new neighbors next door to her. Mr. Worrisome had a real lady friend of his to attend to, so I wasn't bothered with marriage proposals while hauling a two-gallon watering can back and forth. Although there was some bustle at the corner and the unmistakable smell of marijuana in the air, I'll fess up that I didn't call the cops for once. Why mess up a mellow evening?
Junior starts high school tomorrow. He called last week for help with math--he was calculating the perimeter of squares and rectangles. He caught on pretty fast, by phone, for how to do it.
Joey is at Chavez. His folks couldn't get transportation together to send him to Perspectives Math & Science. He says the new school year is going OK. I don't believe him. His dad has been around the house a bit more of late-that's probably good for him but maybe or maybe not so good for Dawn.
The younger Brady girl who did Salud will join her older sister in high school starting tomorrow. They made her read a book over the summer-she came by last week looking for editing feedback on what she had written. The English teacher over there gave a great assignment and she did a pretty good job with it on her own, though there were a few things she improved after we talked. For someone who says she likes math better than reading, I thought she did a great job on the assignment.
I went to Home Depot after church this morning in search of plywood boards for our budding graffiti artists to spray without risking arrest. There are some in the $5 to $10 range, so I'm willing to spring. I didn't ask if they can deliver. When I'm ready to buy, I'll find out.
The Brady girl who was looking for a scientific calculator got one for $13, better than the $18 I saw it for up on the north side. I don't know where she picked it up, though.
Medicine Man stopped by last Thursday to get his stuff out of the basement. It mostly survived the deluge unscathed--a couple of boxes were a bit damp, I gather. I kept an eye on the U-Haul while MM, his mom and brother, my new tenant Shutterbug and Junior and Picasso (I think I called him Orozco before but Picasso is sticking better in my head, so that's who my buddy who likes graffiti and isn't Joey is now) all schlepped everything out of the basement.
About half a dozen people going by asked, "You're not moving, are you?" They were all relieved when I said no. I decided to start planning my obsolescence on this block by sending three other people to Rep. Esther Golar's block organizing seminar on Saturday morning. I went shopping at the Brown Elephant in Andersonville instead. It's August, people, and I'm as much on vacation as I can be and still make money.
SRO Crowd for "Salud"
I'm delighted to report the crowd was standing-room-only at the National Museum of Mexican Art on Friday night for the debut of Salud, Radio Arte's summer project in which youth explored issues related to health and the Latino immigrant community. You can hear some samples of their work if you click on the Salud link. The link will probably be pretty raw, since I gather those samples were from their first week on the job.
On Friday night I was impressed with their use of ambient sound, especially the tinkle of a bell to let us know the paleta man was coming down the street. Back of the Yards Latin ska sensation Los Vicios de Papa is sampled in another of the novelas. You can hear the sample used in the novela on the band's My Space page by clicking the link for "sentado en la banca."
The Brady Girls were there with their mom and at least one of their little sisters.
Latinos Progresando's Teatro Americano ensemble also performed the theater piece they've been working on all summer. Honestly, I found the piece a bit long and uneven--they're not in Teatro Vista's or the Albany Park Theater Project's league yet--but they also wrote and performed an hour-long show with a large cast in just seven weeks, so I'll cut them some slack. Two Big Picture 08 grads were in the cast, so it was extra fun to see Back of the Yards so well represented.
By the way, APTP made debut at the Goodman's Latino Theatre Festival on August 12. If you scroll down on the link you will find a synopsis of the work they performed and a video clip of Henry Godinez talking over stills from the performance.
On Friday night I was impressed with their use of ambient sound, especially the tinkle of a bell to let us know the paleta man was coming down the street. Back of the Yards Latin ska sensation Los Vicios de Papa is sampled in another of the novelas. You can hear the sample used in the novela on the band's My Space page by clicking the link for "sentado en la banca."
The Brady Girls were there with their mom and at least one of their little sisters.
Latinos Progresando's Teatro Americano ensemble also performed the theater piece they've been working on all summer. Honestly, I found the piece a bit long and uneven--they're not in Teatro Vista's or the Albany Park Theater Project's league yet--but they also wrote and performed an hour-long show with a large cast in just seven weeks, so I'll cut them some slack. Two Big Picture 08 grads were in the cast, so it was extra fun to see Back of the Yards so well represented.
By the way, APTP made debut at the Goodman's Latino Theatre Festival on August 12. If you scroll down on the link you will find a synopsis of the work they performed and a video clip of Henry Godinez talking over stills from the performance.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Quick Hits
School Lady's oldest daughter, Meg, is going for orientation at Lozano Alternative High School tomorrow. Yeah! Her next oldest daughter, Jo, did Freshman Connection at Kennedy this summer and liked it. Hope that helps her get off to a good start.
The corner is still a problem. Bob the Builder wants to come to next week's CAPS meeting if he can. He may have a conflict. One of the guys up there stopped me in the street and asked if he could be my friend. "What kind of friend?" I inquired. We eventually settled on the idea that we'd talk another day and I said I was looking for help taking care of the traffic circle.
Junior starts school next week. He's been working on his math. His mom is going to see if he can get homework help after school. His little brother will go to an after-school program at St. Joe's.
My doorbell has been ringing nonstop for the last hour and I have a deadline. Mr. Worrisome appears to be drunk or high, and now Dorothy is at the door. I refuse to answer to either of them. These people are driving me crazy!
The corner is still a problem. Bob the Builder wants to come to next week's CAPS meeting if he can. He may have a conflict. One of the guys up there stopped me in the street and asked if he could be my friend. "What kind of friend?" I inquired. We eventually settled on the idea that we'd talk another day and I said I was looking for help taking care of the traffic circle.
Junior starts school next week. He's been working on his math. His mom is going to see if he can get homework help after school. His little brother will go to an after-school program at St. Joe's.
My doorbell has been ringing nonstop for the last hour and I have a deadline. Mr. Worrisome appears to be drunk or high, and now Dorothy is at the door. I refuse to answer to either of them. These people are driving me crazy!
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Deluge and a North Side Vacation
On Tuesday night the guy my mom once referred to as "the groundskeeper" asked me, "Did your basement flood?"
"No," I said, surprised. I hadn't been down there, but if it had, surely I would know, right??
"Everybody else's did," he informed me. Makes sense, given the Biblical deluge we experienced here in Chicago Monday night. This is why I should not be a homeowner.
I extricated myself gracefully from this conversation and walked calmly into my house, then bolted for the basement stairs to make sure I didn't have standing water down there unawares. Fortunately, it didn't look like Katrina had hit, but the floor was damp and capillary action had drawn wet up into some of the cardboard boxes down there. Ouch.
There's some cardboard on the floor that got soaked and it will be thrown out tonight. The boxes will have to wait a bit longer though; I'm taking a well-deserved North Side vacation tomorrow night, after a few days of hiding out at a client's office and avoiding the small fry. Since Chavez went back to school on Monday, Camp Marshfield is done for the summer and the Marshfield Avenue after-school program probably won't start until sometime after Labor Day. Shoot, SES providers don't start until October, so by that standard I'll be early.
However, I did have a conversation with one of my soon-to-start-high-school pals last night. As a result, I may be setting up some plywood boards out in the backyard for the two or three graffiti aficionados I know on the block to play with. I'd rather they do that than see them get busted with spray cans. My buddy last night told me he'd been caught once by the cops already but they let him off with a warning. I told him that Peter Pan had already been hauled into court, which stopped him in his tracks a bit. We'll see if he can keep himself out of trouble.
"No," I said, surprised. I hadn't been down there, but if it had, surely I would know, right??
"Everybody else's did," he informed me. Makes sense, given the Biblical deluge we experienced here in Chicago Monday night. This is why I should not be a homeowner.
I extricated myself gracefully from this conversation and walked calmly into my house, then bolted for the basement stairs to make sure I didn't have standing water down there unawares. Fortunately, it didn't look like Katrina had hit, but the floor was damp and capillary action had drawn wet up into some of the cardboard boxes down there. Ouch.
There's some cardboard on the floor that got soaked and it will be thrown out tonight. The boxes will have to wait a bit longer though; I'm taking a well-deserved North Side vacation tomorrow night, after a few days of hiding out at a client's office and avoiding the small fry. Since Chavez went back to school on Monday, Camp Marshfield is done for the summer and the Marshfield Avenue after-school program probably won't start until sometime after Labor Day. Shoot, SES providers don't start until October, so by that standard I'll be early.
However, I did have a conversation with one of my soon-to-start-high-school pals last night. As a result, I may be setting up some plywood boards out in the backyard for the two or three graffiti aficionados I know on the block to play with. I'd rather they do that than see them get busted with spray cans. My buddy last night told me he'd been caught once by the cops already but they let him off with a warning. I told him that Peter Pan had already been hauled into court, which stopped him in his tracks a bit. We'll see if he can keep himself out of trouble.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
'This is a GOOD block party'
So said one of the little kids to the lady who was giving out ice cream cones yesterday.
Yes, we all survived the block party, as proven by the few photos I managed to shoot near the end of the night, when I could stop running around.
We not only survived, but thrived. We had the fire truck (and the guys opened the hydrant for a little while), soccer, basketball, the jumping jack (Jay-Z's auntie rented one for an hour), water balloons and my hose in the street, a little art from the Chicago Children's Museum, plenty of hot dogs and burgers and drinks and ice cream. Holy Cross/IHM did send a group of marimba players. We had a short prayer service and three teens from the block read the readings in a mix of English and Spanish. Yup-yup made a point of himself praying.
The dinner was a little chaotic but eventually the common food got on tables and people ate. Mostly folks cooked their own (which was past practice) but some people traveled around and tried out different foods. One of the Brady Moms made the best pozole I have ever had.
The kids got plenty of back-to-school goodies, too, just in time for Monday's first day at Chavez. Thanks to 49th Neighbor, we got a last minute donation of 300 pens and a bunch of pencils on top of the notebooks, pens, pencils, rulers and crayons already assembled. Plus a small stack of Early Childhood promo t-shirts in preschool sizes. Hopefully that will be a little motivator for their parents to sign them up at St. Joseph's Early Childhood Center.
The only incident was a tiff early in the morning between Yup-yup and Bob the Builder, as I'll refer to this guy who knows a lot of building owners around here. Bob called the cops on him, but they didn't want to arrest him and I ended up talking him down and slipping him $5 to stop being a nuisance. (Some other day I'll write about the block party slush fund.)
My new tenant, whom we'll call Shutterbug because he's a photographer, is also a basketball player and spent much of the night out shooting hoops on the street and stopping problems among the kids before they started. Rock on, Shutterbug!
Ms. Ribs (who outdid herself on the grill) said it best: "The kids acted nice. The adults acted nice. The weather was good."
Thanks to the following people and organizations from beyond the block for their assistance:
State Representative Esther Golar
Commander Eugene Roy, 9th District
Ald. JoAnn Thompson/16th Ward Dept. of Street & Sanitation
Neighborhood Housing Services
Kevin Carroll, Chicago Dept. of Transportation
The Resurrection Project
In the Paint
Chicago Children's Museum
Holy Cross/IHM Parish
49th Neighbor & CPS Office of Early Childhood
Rick Cadena
Dion Miller Perez
Jeff Nichols
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Worry
It's been a day of worry, even though things are looking pretty good right now for Saturday.
Jay-Z's aunt caught me on the street this morning. She was crying. The guy with the gun on Sunday thinks she's the one who called the police, so he and some of his buddies have been walking by her house and harassing her.
"I ain't scared," she insisted, but she's certainly upset. She was telling me they said really stupid stuff to her like if her daughter was on the sidewalk and got shot by someone the police would come after her.
Hello, the point is that sidewalks are supposed to be safe for children to play on, dodo!
She wants to know how to get this meathead off the block. I thought we'd have to find out who the landlord is and see if the guy is really a tenant. Unfortunately, I found out tonight that a guy here who knows a lot about buildings and landlords in the area doesn't actually know this particular landlord. I'll have to see if Officer Friendly knows.
I spend all day today feeling really nervous and not knowing whether it was over this stuff or just over the more mundane trouble of trying to get portable hoops. My first connection on hoops has fallen through, but this afternoon a second lead said they would let us use theirs (they have two sets, so it's easier for them to loan out one). I feel much more relaxed now, and a bit sheepish to realize just how much of the worry was over the idea that we couldn't do basketball. Well, actually, I'm kind of relying on the basketball as part of the security strategy (organized activity prevents fights and other problems among kids), so if we weren't having basketball for two hours I'd be worried about other trouble.
And, hey, thanks 49th Neighbor, for helping us find someone to coach the soccer tournament!
Jay-Z's aunt was talking about how much nicer this block is now than it used to be. Actually, I've been in quite a few conversations on this topic in the last few days. It's because that niceness and sense of security is being threatened. Jay-Z's aunt and another lady were talking about all the shooting and killing that went on here years ago.
You may well be thinking there's been plenty of shooting just up the street, which is true. But we haven't seen a fourth-grader's brains spilled on the pavement since I moved here. Apparently that really did happen recently enough that some people here now remember it.
The other thing I haven't wanted to do is go around to every house hitting them up for potluck contributions and the DJ fund. Last night I really did not feel like it at all--I went to maybe 10 of our houses, just where people were outside or I knew them really well.
Tonight I was just on the street talking with two other people, and between them they kicked in $50.
Sarah and one of the Bradys helped me with the Spanish for our flyers. I designed the flyers and emailed them to myself, so tomorrow I can go print them out and copy them.
It's so interesting to see more and more of the ways different people are working to make the block better, even if they don't interact directly with each other all the time in the process. The guy who knows buildings was saying he's been talking to some landlords about toughening up on the tenants and their guests about loitering. He appreciated seeing all the "We Call Police" signs that Jay-Z's aunt passed around while she was doing block party petitions. He's also been talking to Officer Friendly. I let him know I had contacted the commander about having a squad car here during the block party on Saturday.
And Jay-Z's aunt came through with the rest of the crayons for the school supply bags! Sarah helped me put them in all the bags. Now if we just have enough bags for every kids in grades 1-8 who lives on the block, I'll be really happy. I'm not sure if 60 is enough. We have lots of leftover giveaway items, but we ran out of notebooks and folders for the bags, so we just did 60 and we'll see how that goes.
Jay-Z's aunt caught me on the street this morning. She was crying. The guy with the gun on Sunday thinks she's the one who called the police, so he and some of his buddies have been walking by her house and harassing her.
"I ain't scared," she insisted, but she's certainly upset. She was telling me they said really stupid stuff to her like if her daughter was on the sidewalk and got shot by someone the police would come after her.
Hello, the point is that sidewalks are supposed to be safe for children to play on, dodo!
She wants to know how to get this meathead off the block. I thought we'd have to find out who the landlord is and see if the guy is really a tenant. Unfortunately, I found out tonight that a guy here who knows a lot about buildings and landlords in the area doesn't actually know this particular landlord. I'll have to see if Officer Friendly knows.
I spend all day today feeling really nervous and not knowing whether it was over this stuff or just over the more mundane trouble of trying to get portable hoops. My first connection on hoops has fallen through, but this afternoon a second lead said they would let us use theirs (they have two sets, so it's easier for them to loan out one). I feel much more relaxed now, and a bit sheepish to realize just how much of the worry was over the idea that we couldn't do basketball. Well, actually, I'm kind of relying on the basketball as part of the security strategy (organized activity prevents fights and other problems among kids), so if we weren't having basketball for two hours I'd be worried about other trouble.
And, hey, thanks 49th Neighbor, for helping us find someone to coach the soccer tournament!
Jay-Z's aunt was talking about how much nicer this block is now than it used to be. Actually, I've been in quite a few conversations on this topic in the last few days. It's because that niceness and sense of security is being threatened. Jay-Z's aunt and another lady were talking about all the shooting and killing that went on here years ago.
You may well be thinking there's been plenty of shooting just up the street, which is true. But we haven't seen a fourth-grader's brains spilled on the pavement since I moved here. Apparently that really did happen recently enough that some people here now remember it.
The other thing I haven't wanted to do is go around to every house hitting them up for potluck contributions and the DJ fund. Last night I really did not feel like it at all--I went to maybe 10 of our houses, just where people were outside or I knew them really well.
Tonight I was just on the street talking with two other people, and between them they kicked in $50.
Sarah and one of the Bradys helped me with the Spanish for our flyers. I designed the flyers and emailed them to myself, so tomorrow I can go print them out and copy them.
It's so interesting to see more and more of the ways different people are working to make the block better, even if they don't interact directly with each other all the time in the process. The guy who knows buildings was saying he's been talking to some landlords about toughening up on the tenants and their guests about loitering. He appreciated seeing all the "We Call Police" signs that Jay-Z's aunt passed around while she was doing block party petitions. He's also been talking to Officer Friendly. I let him know I had contacted the commander about having a squad car here during the block party on Saturday.
And Jay-Z's aunt came through with the rest of the crayons for the school supply bags! Sarah helped me put them in all the bags. Now if we just have enough bags for every kids in grades 1-8 who lives on the block, I'll be really happy. I'm not sure if 60 is enough. We have lots of leftover giveaway items, but we ran out of notebooks and folders for the bags, so we just did 60 and we'll see how that goes.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Block Party Prep Update
Preparations are well under way for Saturday's block party. I'm amazed to report that 9th District Commander Eugene Roy personally returned my call within one day (on Monday) and immediately agreed to send a squad car to our event. I'm not clear if that means it will be here all day, but I stressed to him that we really want the car there in the evening, because when we've had even minor problems before it was after dark.
We have 60 gift bags with school supplies for the kids--I wish we had a hundred but I've spent quite enough money this summer between my BBQ and this event. Neighborhood Housing Services donated bags, key chains and pens. Thank you!!
We will have basketball, with coaches from a group called In the Paint, a bookmaking project from the Chicago Children's Museum and house blessings and a health survey from Holy Cross/IHM. I bet the kids would rather I got the museum to come and do face painting, but since we have this back-to-school theme going I thought making books might be more in the theme.
Neighbors are stepping up. My neighbor's daughter's birthday party will be part of the block event, and she has gone crazy with food, a cake, probably a jumping jack, helping me get school supplies, her own set of prizes/gifts to go with the party, etc. Peter Pan's parents found us a DJ. Lots of people are promising dishes for the potluck and kicking in a few bucks each for the DJ fund. Ms. Ribs will grill the hamburgers for lunch. Another lady down the street is trying to get donated ice cream and cones.
Two of the Brady Girls came over this afternoon and spent an hour or so helping me get all the school supplies organized into the bags. They did a great job--I just set up everything in an assembly line before they arrived, and then they got right to it.
One of them noticed that the NHS key chains have a mini-measuring tape inside. "Our dads can use those," she said. "At Home Depot, they're expensive."
The Bradys are also planning to organize games like bingo. They wanted to know if it was OK to do that. I pretty much delegated it to them--if they can get the materials for whatever games they want to do, put out a table and run them, they can knock themselves out. I just said that I really couldn't spend any more money on supplies because I've already spent all the money I can on hamburgers, juices, some of the school supply stuff, etc. (In the Paint and the Children's Museum cost money, and I kicked in a pretty large amount toward the DJ, too. My neighbor with the birthday party has gone crazier than I have, though. Next year we will start earlier and I already know who to go to for donated school supply kits.)
Peter Pan wants to organize a soccer tournament. That's another project I had to delegate. We need a coach. Neighbor on 49, I'm looking at you! Watch your email for a personal invitation.
We have 60 gift bags with school supplies for the kids--I wish we had a hundred but I've spent quite enough money this summer between my BBQ and this event. Neighborhood Housing Services donated bags, key chains and pens. Thank you!!
We will have basketball, with coaches from a group called In the Paint, a bookmaking project from the Chicago Children's Museum and house blessings and a health survey from Holy Cross/IHM. I bet the kids would rather I got the museum to come and do face painting, but since we have this back-to-school theme going I thought making books might be more in the theme.
Neighbors are stepping up. My neighbor's daughter's birthday party will be part of the block event, and she has gone crazy with food, a cake, probably a jumping jack, helping me get school supplies, her own set of prizes/gifts to go with the party, etc. Peter Pan's parents found us a DJ. Lots of people are promising dishes for the potluck and kicking in a few bucks each for the DJ fund. Ms. Ribs will grill the hamburgers for lunch. Another lady down the street is trying to get donated ice cream and cones.
Two of the Brady Girls came over this afternoon and spent an hour or so helping me get all the school supplies organized into the bags. They did a great job--I just set up everything in an assembly line before they arrived, and then they got right to it.
One of them noticed that the NHS key chains have a mini-measuring tape inside. "Our dads can use those," she said. "At Home Depot, they're expensive."
The Bradys are also planning to organize games like bingo. They wanted to know if it was OK to do that. I pretty much delegated it to them--if they can get the materials for whatever games they want to do, put out a table and run them, they can knock themselves out. I just said that I really couldn't spend any more money on supplies because I've already spent all the money I can on hamburgers, juices, some of the school supply stuff, etc. (In the Paint and the Children's Museum cost money, and I kicked in a pretty large amount toward the DJ, too. My neighbor with the birthday party has gone crazier than I have, though. Next year we will start earlier and I already know who to go to for donated school supply kits.)
Peter Pan wants to organize a soccer tournament. That's another project I had to delegate. We need a coach. Neighbor on 49, I'm looking at you! Watch your email for a personal invitation.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Green Science Demo
Sarah and I went to the Back of the Yards branch library today to see a demonstration of "green science." I was hoping to take more kids, but one Brady family was not at home and the other Brady Mom said her kids couldn't go. It was a pretty hot day, so I could understand not wanting them to go on a long walk.
Sarah and I made the trek, though. As usual, Sarah chased butterflies all the way over there. She caught one and let it go in Cornell Park. When we got to a vacant lot at 50th and Damen, there was a really interesting creature in there. I guess it was a butterfly--it flew like one and when its wings were spread out, it looked like one, but on the ground its wings folded up in a sort of boxy way. You could almost mistake it for a grasshopper or cricket. We were both fascinated with this bug and chased it around the vacant lot for a good while before it flew off toward the alley and we lost it. We'll have to look it up in the bug guide.
When we got to the library we had some water and waited while the day care group lined up and took seats. There were a few other people like us, not organized groups, just adults (moms, presumably) and kids. I believe the presenter was named Mr. Offut--he was the science teacher for the librarian who introduced him.
The demo was pretty fun, although I'm not too super-sure how much "green" any of the kids walked away with. We got to see some cool tricks involving air pressure. My favorite was getting a hard-boiled egg (peeled) into and out of a milk bottle by changing the air pressure around it. To get it into the bottle, he threw a lit piece of paper inside and put the egg over the opening, which created a vacuum and sucked the egg in. To get it back out, he blew into the bottle to put more air behind the egg and force it back out. (He held it upside down, getting gravity in on the action.) This time, the egg came out really slowly, but it did come. You could see this egg's exit was unusual to him, too.
Sarah said her favorite trick was when he showed how magicians can pierce a balloon without making it pop. If you slide a long, sharp object into and out of the balloon through the two ends (the knot and the dark spot where the rubber isn't stretched as tightly by the air pressure), it won't pop.
Afterwards, we hung out in the library for a little while and found some books to check out. Sarah got a comic book (Robot Dreams) and a book about how to draw funny cartoon figures. She read a good bit of that one while I looked for a couple of books for me (a medieval murder mystery and a coming of age novel that looked interesting).
Sarah and I made the trek, though. As usual, Sarah chased butterflies all the way over there. She caught one and let it go in Cornell Park. When we got to a vacant lot at 50th and Damen, there was a really interesting creature in there. I guess it was a butterfly--it flew like one and when its wings were spread out, it looked like one, but on the ground its wings folded up in a sort of boxy way. You could almost mistake it for a grasshopper or cricket. We were both fascinated with this bug and chased it around the vacant lot for a good while before it flew off toward the alley and we lost it. We'll have to look it up in the bug guide.
When we got to the library we had some water and waited while the day care group lined up and took seats. There were a few other people like us, not organized groups, just adults (moms, presumably) and kids. I believe the presenter was named Mr. Offut--he was the science teacher for the librarian who introduced him.
The demo was pretty fun, although I'm not too super-sure how much "green" any of the kids walked away with. We got to see some cool tricks involving air pressure. My favorite was getting a hard-boiled egg (peeled) into and out of a milk bottle by changing the air pressure around it. To get it into the bottle, he threw a lit piece of paper inside and put the egg over the opening, which created a vacuum and sucked the egg in. To get it back out, he blew into the bottle to put more air behind the egg and force it back out. (He held it upside down, getting gravity in on the action.) This time, the egg came out really slowly, but it did come. You could see this egg's exit was unusual to him, too.
Sarah said her favorite trick was when he showed how magicians can pierce a balloon without making it pop. If you slide a long, sharp object into and out of the balloon through the two ends (the knot and the dark spot where the rubber isn't stretched as tightly by the air pressure), it won't pop.
Afterwards, we hung out in the library for a little while and found some books to check out. Sarah got a comic book (Robot Dreams) and a book about how to draw funny cartoon figures. She read a good bit of that one while I looked for a couple of books for me (a medieval murder mystery and a coming of age novel that looked interesting).
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Gun on the Block; Neighbors Step Up
Earlier today, someone down at the south end of the block walked out of his house and had an argument with someone else from the next block north. Our neighbor went back in his house and came out with a gun. He aimed at the other party walking away. Probably a dozen children were on the street between him and his target, according to neighbors.
I was inside the house with one of the Brady Girls when I heard voices shouting outside. Sarah was in my yard, so I made her come inside while I found out what was happening. Adults on the street were yelling at the guy to put the gun away, couldn't he see there were children in the street, etc. etc. I went back in the house with the girls.
Amidst all this, the police were called and given an exact address, so the next time I came back out there was a paddy wagon and a squad car at the end of the block. Officers were knocking on the door.
Sarah's dad was going down that way looking for her. Oops! I went after him and told him and the relevant Brady Dad that their girls were in my house, out of harm's way.
We went back to looking at pictures of flowers and lions on the computer. Whew.
I was inside the house with one of the Brady Girls when I heard voices shouting outside. Sarah was in my yard, so I made her come inside while I found out what was happening. Adults on the street were yelling at the guy to put the gun away, couldn't he see there were children in the street, etc. etc. I went back in the house with the girls.
Amidst all this, the police were called and given an exact address, so the next time I came back out there was a paddy wagon and a squad car at the end of the block. Officers were knocking on the door.
Sarah's dad was going down that way looking for her. Oops! I went after him and told him and the relevant Brady Dad that their girls were in my house, out of harm's way.
We went back to looking at pictures of flowers and lions on the computer. Whew.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Saturday Night Live
...from Marshfield Avenue, where somebody is having a very loud DJ for their birthday party.
I was out in front of my house, talking with Sarah's dad, who was sitting on his porch and then came down to chat across our fences. He has been trying to keep the kids out of my yard when I'm not home, which I appreciate.
We were talking about the block for a while. He was happy to hear about the block party next weekend. I thought Sarah would have told him but it seemed he didn't know what was going on. We were talking about safety and the recent reduction in problems at the corner. He asked about last summer, when we didn't do a party, and I said we didn't do it because of security problems (the blue house across the street). He got it.
Then we talked about school and Sarah. At her old school in Pilsen (Perez) they recommended she go to Orozco, which has a bilingual gifted program. He and his wife decided not to do it--I didn't quite understand what he was saying about why, but I'm pretty sure it was the usual reasons parents who don't understand how the Chicago school system works decide not to jump on that kind of opportunity--it's farther from home, they don't really know how much better it is, they just see all the hassle involved and they think their neighborhood school is OK because they have no base for comparison. I was just looking on line, and using test scores as a measure for academics (knowing that's a problem but also knowing it tells you something), Chavez is better than Perez but Orozco is better than both.
His wife is pretty frustrated with Chavez. The LSC is factionalized and there aren't very many opportunities for new parents to break into what's happening there. I should introduce her to someone I know on the Chavez LSC who's a get-it-done kind of person and not interested in the factional fighting.
Today at Costco (more block party purchasing, thanks to a friend with a membership) I spotted Brain Quest for 4th graders on sale and picked up the questions and the workbook that goes with them. Sarah wrote down a list of things the kids want to do at the block party and it had some spelling errors, which surprised me because her language skills are so good. (They were common bilingual errors, like "Balley ball" for volleyball but I was still surprised to see them.)
I told her dad I got this book today because I think she's smart enough to know fourth grade work already and if she doesn't know it (and Chavez for some reason doesn't teach all of it, especially spelling), at least there's a small sort of backup. I don't want her to be at a disadvantage when it's time to take the high school entrance exam.
Her dad was saying they don't know anything about the high schools. Their daughter was top 10 percent at Juarez, but I think Sarah is smart enough to go to a selective enrollment high school if she gets the appropriate education between now and then. I also mentioned San Miguel just to put the idea in their heads. Grades 6-8 are where kids in CPS lose a lot of ground.
In April I went to visit friends with a fifth-grade son in the Palo Alto public school system. I think about what he's reading and doing and I think about my kids here, especially Sarah and some of the Bradys, and I'm ready to out-helicopter the most helicopter parent.
I was out in front of my house, talking with Sarah's dad, who was sitting on his porch and then came down to chat across our fences. He has been trying to keep the kids out of my yard when I'm not home, which I appreciate.
We were talking about the block for a while. He was happy to hear about the block party next weekend. I thought Sarah would have told him but it seemed he didn't know what was going on. We were talking about safety and the recent reduction in problems at the corner. He asked about last summer, when we didn't do a party, and I said we didn't do it because of security problems (the blue house across the street). He got it.
Then we talked about school and Sarah. At her old school in Pilsen (Perez) they recommended she go to Orozco, which has a bilingual gifted program. He and his wife decided not to do it--I didn't quite understand what he was saying about why, but I'm pretty sure it was the usual reasons parents who don't understand how the Chicago school system works decide not to jump on that kind of opportunity--it's farther from home, they don't really know how much better it is, they just see all the hassle involved and they think their neighborhood school is OK because they have no base for comparison. I was just looking on line, and using test scores as a measure for academics (knowing that's a problem but also knowing it tells you something), Chavez is better than Perez but Orozco is better than both.
His wife is pretty frustrated with Chavez. The LSC is factionalized and there aren't very many opportunities for new parents to break into what's happening there. I should introduce her to someone I know on the Chavez LSC who's a get-it-done kind of person and not interested in the factional fighting.
Today at Costco (more block party purchasing, thanks to a friend with a membership) I spotted Brain Quest for 4th graders on sale and picked up the questions and the workbook that goes with them. Sarah wrote down a list of things the kids want to do at the block party and it had some spelling errors, which surprised me because her language skills are so good. (They were common bilingual errors, like "Balley ball" for volleyball but I was still surprised to see them.)
I told her dad I got this book today because I think she's smart enough to know fourth grade work already and if she doesn't know it (and Chavez for some reason doesn't teach all of it, especially spelling), at least there's a small sort of backup. I don't want her to be at a disadvantage when it's time to take the high school entrance exam.
Her dad was saying they don't know anything about the high schools. Their daughter was top 10 percent at Juarez, but I think Sarah is smart enough to go to a selective enrollment high school if she gets the appropriate education between now and then. I also mentioned San Miguel just to put the idea in their heads. Grades 6-8 are where kids in CPS lose a lot of ground.
In April I went to visit friends with a fifth-grade son in the Palo Alto public school system. I think about what he's reading and doing and I think about my kids here, especially Sarah and some of the Bradys, and I'm ready to out-helicopter the most helicopter parent.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The Tree, Bughunting, and a Block Update
All's much quieter on the corner tonight than it's been for weeks. I can't hear anything--if they're out there now, I don't know about it. Hurray.
We dragged the ladder out in the yard and found quite a collection of critters: a grasshopper, a butterfly, another snail (they were messing about in the grass when they weren't on the ladder). Then they all got excited about turning my compost. So we turned it, then I remembered I had things to put in it (newspaper and some seriously spent veggies in the fridge crisper, I'm sorry to admit). They actually all helped shred the yellow kale and wilted cabbage--I didn't even want to do that!
They think we've already got more dirt in there than we did last week. I think that is wishful thinking but I'm not arguing too strenuously about it. I'm just happy there's a better chance than there was--given my complete inattention to the compost pile--that perhaps there will be more dirt in there after all.
As it was getting dark, Oldest Brady Boy spotted something big in the less used garden box--it was a bug big enough to move piece of wood chip mulch. I went in and got a flashlight. It turned out to be a big orange beetle. I have to look it up. I think one of the guys squished it in the end, because I found a shmooshed orange thing about the size of a quarter on the sidewalk out back after they went home.
Once they all left, I had a minute to pull down a leaf off my mystery tree and flip through the tree guide. It does seem to be a catalpa, probably a southern catalpa because they say the leaves on a southern catalpa smell unpleasant when you crush them. They didn't say that about the northern catalpa. Northerns are native here, but the southerns are acclimated as far north as Michigan, so I assume we have them, too.
Still quiet. It's so pleasant.
We dragged the ladder out in the yard and found quite a collection of critters: a grasshopper, a butterfly, another snail (they were messing about in the grass when they weren't on the ladder). Then they all got excited about turning my compost. So we turned it, then I remembered I had things to put in it (newspaper and some seriously spent veggies in the fridge crisper, I'm sorry to admit). They actually all helped shred the yellow kale and wilted cabbage--I didn't even want to do that!
They think we've already got more dirt in there than we did last week. I think that is wishful thinking but I'm not arguing too strenuously about it. I'm just happy there's a better chance than there was--given my complete inattention to the compost pile--that perhaps there will be more dirt in there after all.
As it was getting dark, Oldest Brady Boy spotted something big in the less used garden box--it was a bug big enough to move piece of wood chip mulch. I went in and got a flashlight. It turned out to be a big orange beetle. I have to look it up. I think one of the guys squished it in the end, because I found a shmooshed orange thing about the size of a quarter on the sidewalk out back after they went home.
Once they all left, I had a minute to pull down a leaf off my mystery tree and flip through the tree guide. It does seem to be a catalpa, probably a southern catalpa because they say the leaves on a southern catalpa smell unpleasant when you crush them. They didn't say that about the northern catalpa. Northerns are native here, but the southerns are acclimated as far north as Michigan, so I assume we have them, too.
Still quiet. It's so pleasant.
Zacatecas
Dawn's mom is from the Mexican state of Zacatecas. I just found a great In These Times piece from last May about what emigration to the U.S. from Mexico is doing to small towns there. I don't even think Dawn's mom grew up in a small town--I think she grew up on a farm.
The reason the piece caught my eye is that I had the good fortune to meet the writer, John Gibler, when I visited Oaxaca in 2006.
If you're interested in knowing what the effects of Mexicans leaving their country look like back home, check it out.
The reason the piece caught my eye is that I had the good fortune to meet the writer, John Gibler, when I visited Oaxaca in 2006.
If you're interested in knowing what the effects of Mexicans leaving their country look like back home, check it out.
Fast Post-CAPS Action!
Wow, I'm shocked. Our Officer Friendly's chat with the landlords of the house on the next block has shown some quick results. There's now a "No Loitering" sign up right on the corner.
Apparently Officer Friendly himself spent his lunch hour yesterday circling the block and telling those guys to move. He even wrote one of them a ticket. They were mad, but they left. I haven't seen a big pack of them there today.
I might even go up and clean up the traffic circle and the corner there tonight if it stays quiet. Just adding one more signal to say "we won't put up with your mess around here."
This business with people hanging on the block has got to be over with by August 2. Jay-Z's auntie and I went to see the alderman's aide tonight. Good thing, too--she couldn't find our application for a block party permit. So I filled it out again and she faxed it downtown to DOT right in front of us. When the alderman came to sign it she introduced herself to us and we invited her to come. I suggested she come to the party between 2 and 4 p.m. when we're having basketball with some college coaches in charge. She said yes.
I heard from Auntie that plans are in the works for food and a DJ and I didn't have to do anything. Thank God!
I think I'll suggest to Officer Friendly that he invite the landlords to stop by our block party. If there's any trouble, they'll see it for themselves. More likely, and better, they'll see that this block is not what it was 15 years ago, and they need to step up their game screening tenants, because people here won't put up with out-of-control neighbors. (Yeah, we have our problems, but the problems of recent vintage cross a line.)
We're also planning to get registered as a block club. I think we have enough people willing to sign up as officers. I just hope everybody who wants a title can have a title they like and can do at least some of the work. "We never had a block club the whole time I've been here," Jay-Z's aunt told me. I think that is almost 20 years. No wonder it's taken four years to even get close to it.
Apparently Officer Friendly himself spent his lunch hour yesterday circling the block and telling those guys to move. He even wrote one of them a ticket. They were mad, but they left. I haven't seen a big pack of them there today.
I might even go up and clean up the traffic circle and the corner there tonight if it stays quiet. Just adding one more signal to say "we won't put up with your mess around here."
This business with people hanging on the block has got to be over with by August 2. Jay-Z's auntie and I went to see the alderman's aide tonight. Good thing, too--she couldn't find our application for a block party permit. So I filled it out again and she faxed it downtown to DOT right in front of us. When the alderman came to sign it she introduced herself to us and we invited her to come. I suggested she come to the party between 2 and 4 p.m. when we're having basketball with some college coaches in charge. She said yes.
I heard from Auntie that plans are in the works for food and a DJ and I didn't have to do anything. Thank God!
I think I'll suggest to Officer Friendly that he invite the landlords to stop by our block party. If there's any trouble, they'll see it for themselves. More likely, and better, they'll see that this block is not what it was 15 years ago, and they need to step up their game screening tenants, because people here won't put up with out-of-control neighbors. (Yeah, we have our problems, but the problems of recent vintage cross a line.)
We're also planning to get registered as a block club. I think we have enough people willing to sign up as officers. I just hope everybody who wants a title can have a title they like and can do at least some of the work. "We never had a block club the whole time I've been here," Jay-Z's aunt told me. I think that is almost 20 years. No wonder it's taken four years to even get close to it.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Post-CAPS conversation
Well, I ended up having a conversation with Sarah after the CAPS meeting. She saw the papers I brought home, including the crime reports for our beat over the last month, and took a look at them. She had lots of questions about words like "larceny" and the difference between assault and battery. I actually forget the difference between the two, but thanks to the little police icons, we figured out that aggravated means you assaulted or battered with a weapon, but simple means you just used your fists. I even explained counterfeiting, fraud and embezzlement.
In the end, I explained all the crimes she asked about on the Clearicons cheat sheet except prostitution. Sarah is eight years old, her parents are very protective of her, and the other day she said, "Eew, that's nasty!" at a photo of a blond pinup in a bikini, so I didn't think it would be right to break it down for her without her parents' knowledge and consent.
"It's a crime involving sex, and that's all I'm going to say about it right now because I don't know if your parents would want me to discuss it with you," I told her.
When Sarah wants to know something, she is very persistent. "So maybe you could explain it when I'm older?"
"Yes." (I appreciate intellectual curiosity and persistence.)
Shortly thereafter, two plainclothes and one uniformed officer showed up in an unmarked car and began shaking down some guys a couple of houses up. Word got around that the cops had also gone by the house on the corner and warned people that if they kept hanging around they would be arrested. (That didn't seem to make much dent, based on my recent 911 call.)
A bunch of people were staring at the police and the guys they were searching, including Sarah, but I convinced her that was not a good idea. (I was in and out of the house, so I'm not sure if they actually arrested anyone.)
She and I spent some time filling people's bike tires with my pump and sitting on the corner making things from the "puzzle pieces." (I really have to come up with a better name for them.)
Sarah told me that at her old house in Pilsen, there were so many gangs on the block that she was only allowed to play for 10 or 15 minutes at a time, even though her mom knew all the families. I asked her if she felt safer there or here and she said here. I know she gets to spend hours outside here. I just hope we can keep it that way and maybe even make it better.
In the end, I explained all the crimes she asked about on the Clearicons cheat sheet except prostitution. Sarah is eight years old, her parents are very protective of her, and the other day she said, "Eew, that's nasty!" at a photo of a blond pinup in a bikini, so I didn't think it would be right to break it down for her without her parents' knowledge and consent.
"It's a crime involving sex, and that's all I'm going to say about it right now because I don't know if your parents would want me to discuss it with you," I told her.
When Sarah wants to know something, she is very persistent. "So maybe you could explain it when I'm older?"
"Yes." (I appreciate intellectual curiosity and persistence.)
Shortly thereafter, two plainclothes and one uniformed officer showed up in an unmarked car and began shaking down some guys a couple of houses up. Word got around that the cops had also gone by the house on the corner and warned people that if they kept hanging around they would be arrested. (That didn't seem to make much dent, based on my recent 911 call.)
A bunch of people were staring at the police and the guys they were searching, including Sarah, but I convinced her that was not a good idea. (I was in and out of the house, so I'm not sure if they actually arrested anyone.)
She and I spent some time filling people's bike tires with my pump and sitting on the corner making things from the "puzzle pieces." (I really have to come up with a better name for them.)
Sarah told me that at her old house in Pilsen, there were so many gangs on the block that she was only allowed to play for 10 or 15 minutes at a time, even though her mom knew all the families. I asked her if she felt safer there or here and she said here. I know she gets to spend hours outside here. I just hope we can keep it that way and maybe even make it better.
CAPS Meeting
I took a couple of neighbors (two from the same family) to our CAPS meeting tonight. I went to give the police a heads-up about the block party. Also, our problem corner has been problematic of late and I wanted someone else from the block besides me to be there.
Turns out I didn't have to worry about the corner not getting discussed. We walked in a few minutes late and it quickly became the hot topic of the night. All the regulars were complaining about litter, loitering, gangbanging, drug sales and intimidation going on over there. Medicine Man was harassed by these guys his next-to-last day here. I was really angry when he told me that--he almost got through the whole year here without incident, and then these jokers showed up.
Interestingly, the landlords of the building where strangers hang out in front all the time arrived shortly after we did. It took me a few minutes to realize they were the landlords at our corner--not sure if I just lost focus or if the constant switching between Spanish and English got me confused.
Although the landlords took a pretty severe verbal beating from some of the regulars who have been coming to this meeting for years and had never met them before, they appeared willing to work with the police on curbing the loitering in front of their building, though they were reluctant to start formal eviction proceedings on a family that seems to have connections with the loiterers. I guess we'll see what happens here.
One of the officers present had looked up the number of calls to police about problems on the corner in the last week, and it was less than 12. Half of them probably came from me--I'm pretty sure I called five or six times last week.
It's tough to decide when to call though, because if they're just hanging out, there isn't much anybody can do, so I don't want to bother a dispatcher. Late at night I'll call about noise and earlier I'll call if it looks like an argument might erupt into a fight, but I can't see well enough from here to know if drug sales are going on.
Afterwards, I asked someone I've made friends with a couple of blocks north if I could call him and his family when I call 911 so they could make an additional call. He said yes. Since I got here I've tried off-and-on to start a phone tree, like the city and CAPS tell you to do, but there are lots of problems with doing this. Some are due to a lack of organization at our beat meeting--every month we all sign in and put down our phone numbers, but I have no idea what ever happens to those sheets. Nobody has ever tried to connect those of us who attend.
Tonight was the first time I've ever gone up and asked someone if they would help me with a 911 call. It's taken nearly four years for whatever combination of building relationship and increasing Spanish fluency for me to get to the point where I felt comfortable doing that. (I used English tonight to ask my neighbor up the street, but we've mostly spoken Spanish up to now.) The family who came with me also agreed to call and gave me their number.
Over the weekend, a friend of mine told me at his CAPS meeting in Little Village a while back, they used to get cell phone numbers for beat officers so they could call up and let them know where to swing by on their shift, suggest what to look for, etc. That's another thing I've never seen here.
Then of course there's the issue of creating enough community that people want to form a phone tree, and helping them get over their fear of retaliation. I got numbers from some families when I held an impromptu block meeting last fall, and they're still up on my fridge, but I have to admit I don't use them. I feel awkward speaking Spanish on the phone to strangers--one family doesn't have working phone service now--lots of times I'm making phone calls at 11 or later and I don't want to wake people up, blah blah blah. Plus one of the moms told me she called the police over something a while back and the next morning, the headlights on her car were broken.
Well, I just put my mini-phone tree to its first test. There are three guys out there on the corner right now drinking 40s and hollering. I called the cops, then I called my two neighbors who said they'd help me out tonight. One didn't answer; the other agreed to call right away. It's a start.
Turns out I didn't have to worry about the corner not getting discussed. We walked in a few minutes late and it quickly became the hot topic of the night. All the regulars were complaining about litter, loitering, gangbanging, drug sales and intimidation going on over there. Medicine Man was harassed by these guys his next-to-last day here. I was really angry when he told me that--he almost got through the whole year here without incident, and then these jokers showed up.
Interestingly, the landlords of the building where strangers hang out in front all the time arrived shortly after we did. It took me a few minutes to realize they were the landlords at our corner--not sure if I just lost focus or if the constant switching between Spanish and English got me confused.
Although the landlords took a pretty severe verbal beating from some of the regulars who have been coming to this meeting for years and had never met them before, they appeared willing to work with the police on curbing the loitering in front of their building, though they were reluctant to start formal eviction proceedings on a family that seems to have connections with the loiterers. I guess we'll see what happens here.
One of the officers present had looked up the number of calls to police about problems on the corner in the last week, and it was less than 12. Half of them probably came from me--I'm pretty sure I called five or six times last week.
It's tough to decide when to call though, because if they're just hanging out, there isn't much anybody can do, so I don't want to bother a dispatcher. Late at night I'll call about noise and earlier I'll call if it looks like an argument might erupt into a fight, but I can't see well enough from here to know if drug sales are going on.
Afterwards, I asked someone I've made friends with a couple of blocks north if I could call him and his family when I call 911 so they could make an additional call. He said yes. Since I got here I've tried off-and-on to start a phone tree, like the city and CAPS tell you to do, but there are lots of problems with doing this. Some are due to a lack of organization at our beat meeting--every month we all sign in and put down our phone numbers, but I have no idea what ever happens to those sheets. Nobody has ever tried to connect those of us who attend.
Tonight was the first time I've ever gone up and asked someone if they would help me with a 911 call. It's taken nearly four years for whatever combination of building relationship and increasing Spanish fluency for me to get to the point where I felt comfortable doing that. (I used English tonight to ask my neighbor up the street, but we've mostly spoken Spanish up to now.) The family who came with me also agreed to call and gave me their number.
Over the weekend, a friend of mine told me at his CAPS meeting in Little Village a while back, they used to get cell phone numbers for beat officers so they could call up and let them know where to swing by on their shift, suggest what to look for, etc. That's another thing I've never seen here.
Then of course there's the issue of creating enough community that people want to form a phone tree, and helping them get over their fear of retaliation. I got numbers from some families when I held an impromptu block meeting last fall, and they're still up on my fridge, but I have to admit I don't use them. I feel awkward speaking Spanish on the phone to strangers--one family doesn't have working phone service now--lots of times I'm making phone calls at 11 or later and I don't want to wake people up, blah blah blah. Plus one of the moms told me she called the police over something a while back and the next morning, the headlights on her car were broken.
Well, I just put my mini-phone tree to its first test. There are three guys out there on the corner right now drinking 40s and hollering. I called the cops, then I called my two neighbors who said they'd help me out tonight. One didn't answer; the other agreed to call right away. It's a start.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Medicine Man Hits the Road
Well, I hauled myself out of bed much too early this morning to say goodbye to Medicine Man. He was driving back to his home town of Omaha in time to make a wedding this afternoon. By this time next week he'll be in Africa on a medical mission trip. A few weeks later he'll start med school. He'll be here in Chicago, but he's moving to be closer to school. It won't be the same without him around here, that's for sure.
I think I've been in denial for the last few weeks about his departure. Sometime in June I had told myself to quit borrowing the car and bugging him to help out with Junior's math homework--give the guy a little transition time out--but no, it didn't really work out that way. Although he did seem to have a lot of fun with his Americorps buddies these last couple of weeks, so I don't think Marshfield Avenue's demands cramped his style too much.
Speaking of his Americorps buddies, they had an end-of-year dinner and award ceremony last night at UIC. Medicine Man didn't know it, but months ago his boss at work had put together a nomination for him for a national service award. I wrote a letter of support talking about all the great stuff he helped me do with the kids here on the block. We still don't know whether he won, but he did become a finalist, so the Americorps people gave him a certificate last night and his boss and I got up and said nice things about him.
He was really surprised. "I was just doing my thing," he said. It's nice to see somebody get recognized for just doing their thing.
I think I've been in denial for the last few weeks about his departure. Sometime in June I had told myself to quit borrowing the car and bugging him to help out with Junior's math homework--give the guy a little transition time out--but no, it didn't really work out that way. Although he did seem to have a lot of fun with his Americorps buddies these last couple of weeks, so I don't think Marshfield Avenue's demands cramped his style too much.
Speaking of his Americorps buddies, they had an end-of-year dinner and award ceremony last night at UIC. Medicine Man didn't know it, but months ago his boss at work had put together a nomination for him for a national service award. I wrote a letter of support talking about all the great stuff he helped me do with the kids here on the block. We still don't know whether he won, but he did become a finalist, so the Americorps people gave him a certificate last night and his boss and I got up and said nice things about him.
He was really surprised. "I was just doing my thing," he said. It's nice to see somebody get recognized for just doing their thing.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Camp Marshfield Craft Night
Thank goodness my meeting tonight ended early. I got home about 6:30, just in time to donate my spigot to the evening's water balloon fight up and down the sidewalk. After drying off, we went inside my air conditioned house and a spontaneous craft night emerged: pastel drawing, newspaper hats, origami stars. Here's how it all started.
I rode up to my house just in time to see some guys walking away with water balloons, Bradys following behind. "Can we use your hose?" asked Oldest Brady Boy.
"Sure."
"Can we get you wet?" begged Memory Girl, who rode up on her bike to join the action.
"Well, I have to put my bike away and change, but then you can get me wet," I told her.
"You won't get me wet, though, will you? My mom will be mad."
"No, I promise I won't get you wet."
So I put my bike away and got in my surfer gear (board shorts and a tankini top, great clothes to get wet in and modest enough to avoid too much comment from adult male passers-by, though there's a lot of that obnoxious behavior around here). Then we went out back and Memory Girl, Sarah, Jay-Z, Brady Bughunter and one of his girl cousins all took turns spraying me with the hose. Once I was cooled off, they watered my grass and those who wanted to get a little wet did.
Then I looked in my composter which isn't composting much because I don't turn it enough or wet it down. I found a can in there and the other kids thought Brady Bughunter had put it in. I don't blame him; it sure looks like a trash can. I called him over, explained that only plants and some food leftovers go in, cans don't, and asked him to take it to the alley dumpster. He did.
Meanwhile, everybody was looking at all the spiders that have spun webs inside the composter. One of the Brady Girls--who henceforth we'll call Ines--found a giant plastic cup in the yard and started using it as a spade to turn the compost. Thanks, Ines! Then we rehooked the hose to the spigot (we unhooked it for water balloons after the spraying was over), and Irma wet down the compost and dug around in it some more. I was relieved to see that the botton actually may have turned into dirt--though I added some dirt a while back and it was hard to judge whether there was actual new dirt in there or not.
They found a slug. They all called it a snail. I tried to explain that snails have shells and slugs don't, but I'm not sure that fine point stuck. It was a cool looking slug with pronounced tentacles and a fine slime trail on the lid of my composter, where we put it after we pulled it out of the compost. I meant to put it back and I forgot. I'll have to go look and see if it's there or if it slid down to the ground.
Anyway, we hung out on the front stoop for a while until I was dry. Then Ines and two of her cousins wanted to come inside, and I said OK. After Ines went to the bathroom, they found the construction paper I got from the dollar store and my fancy crayons (oil pastels) and got busy. Her brother, Middle Brady, came in and wanted to make a newspaper hat. I forgot how so I turned on the computer and put "how to make newspaper hat" in Google and sure enough, got instructions. Middle Brady figured it out pretty fast from the illustrations, and I made one, too.
Then Ines wanted to look up how to make paper flowers, so I put that in Google and we got another site. Ines went to town here--I left her on the computer to look up tons of different craft ideas while I went upstairs to change out of my still-damp shorts.
By now Sarah, her niece and most of the younger Bradys were all in the house, coloring and cutting away. "Can we have a craft club?" Sarah asked.
"Aren't we having one now?"
"Yeah, but can we have it not from seven to eight at night?"
"Yeah, more like four or five?" chimed in a Brady Girl.
"Well, when I have to work, this is the time I can do it." Later I promised to leave them some craft supplies in the mailbox tomorrow morning when I go to work.
They want to make decorations for the block party, and Ines says she can design the flyers and at least make some copies. I can probably get the rest of the copies made if she can't run off a lot.
We talked about stars--Ines wanted to make a three-dimensional star (you make two identical flat ones, then cut slits and slide them together). She drew a six-pointed star, acknowledging, "that means something bad."
"But five-pointed stars do, too," I said.
Sarah was making a four-pointed, diamond-like star. "Can we do those for the party, if they don't represent?" I asked.
"I think they mean something bad, too," Ines told me. They probably do.
"Maybe we'll have to just make so many different kinds of stars nobody could say we were representing," I suggested. Or maybe we'll have to avoid star designs altogether, I thought but didn't say right away. It makes me so mad that little kids can't just draw stars for fun without people reading the wrong things into it. I may have to get some expert advice on this one.
Anyway, they cleaned up--I set the oven timer and gave a 10-minute warning to finish what they were doing, then a two-minute cleanup period, then we all went outside. They didn't leave the place too messy and Middle Brady Boy took home the science comic books from the Museum of Science and Industry. He was having trouble pronoucing "Ecosystem," so I don't know exactly how much science he'll get out of them, but he liked them and he'll look at them and maybe he'll even get his big brother to take a look, too.
Even Littlest Brady Boy stopped in and drew something. I think one of his sisters or cousins took it home to show his mom.
I rode up to my house just in time to see some guys walking away with water balloons, Bradys following behind. "Can we use your hose?" asked Oldest Brady Boy.
"Sure."
"Can we get you wet?" begged Memory Girl, who rode up on her bike to join the action.
"Well, I have to put my bike away and change, but then you can get me wet," I told her.
"You won't get me wet, though, will you? My mom will be mad."
"No, I promise I won't get you wet."
So I put my bike away and got in my surfer gear (board shorts and a tankini top, great clothes to get wet in and modest enough to avoid too much comment from adult male passers-by, though there's a lot of that obnoxious behavior around here). Then we went out back and Memory Girl, Sarah, Jay-Z, Brady Bughunter and one of his girl cousins all took turns spraying me with the hose. Once I was cooled off, they watered my grass and those who wanted to get a little wet did.
Then I looked in my composter which isn't composting much because I don't turn it enough or wet it down. I found a can in there and the other kids thought Brady Bughunter had put it in. I don't blame him; it sure looks like a trash can. I called him over, explained that only plants and some food leftovers go in, cans don't, and asked him to take it to the alley dumpster. He did.
Meanwhile, everybody was looking at all the spiders that have spun webs inside the composter. One of the Brady Girls--who henceforth we'll call Ines--found a giant plastic cup in the yard and started using it as a spade to turn the compost. Thanks, Ines! Then we rehooked the hose to the spigot (we unhooked it for water balloons after the spraying was over), and Irma wet down the compost and dug around in it some more. I was relieved to see that the botton actually may have turned into dirt--though I added some dirt a while back and it was hard to judge whether there was actual new dirt in there or not.
They found a slug. They all called it a snail. I tried to explain that snails have shells and slugs don't, but I'm not sure that fine point stuck. It was a cool looking slug with pronounced tentacles and a fine slime trail on the lid of my composter, where we put it after we pulled it out of the compost. I meant to put it back and I forgot. I'll have to go look and see if it's there or if it slid down to the ground.
Anyway, we hung out on the front stoop for a while until I was dry. Then Ines and two of her cousins wanted to come inside, and I said OK. After Ines went to the bathroom, they found the construction paper I got from the dollar store and my fancy crayons (oil pastels) and got busy. Her brother, Middle Brady, came in and wanted to make a newspaper hat. I forgot how so I turned on the computer and put "how to make newspaper hat" in Google and sure enough, got instructions. Middle Brady figured it out pretty fast from the illustrations, and I made one, too.
Then Ines wanted to look up how to make paper flowers, so I put that in Google and we got another site. Ines went to town here--I left her on the computer to look up tons of different craft ideas while I went upstairs to change out of my still-damp shorts.
By now Sarah, her niece and most of the younger Bradys were all in the house, coloring and cutting away. "Can we have a craft club?" Sarah asked.
"Aren't we having one now?"
"Yeah, but can we have it not from seven to eight at night?"
"Yeah, more like four or five?" chimed in a Brady Girl.
"Well, when I have to work, this is the time I can do it." Later I promised to leave them some craft supplies in the mailbox tomorrow morning when I go to work.
They want to make decorations for the block party, and Ines says she can design the flyers and at least make some copies. I can probably get the rest of the copies made if she can't run off a lot.
We talked about stars--Ines wanted to make a three-dimensional star (you make two identical flat ones, then cut slits and slide them together). She drew a six-pointed star, acknowledging, "that means something bad."
"But five-pointed stars do, too," I said.
Sarah was making a four-pointed, diamond-like star. "Can we do those for the party, if they don't represent?" I asked.
"I think they mean something bad, too," Ines told me. They probably do.
"Maybe we'll have to just make so many different kinds of stars nobody could say we were representing," I suggested. Or maybe we'll have to avoid star designs altogether, I thought but didn't say right away. It makes me so mad that little kids can't just draw stars for fun without people reading the wrong things into it. I may have to get some expert advice on this one.
Anyway, they cleaned up--I set the oven timer and gave a 10-minute warning to finish what they were doing, then a two-minute cleanup period, then we all went outside. They didn't leave the place too messy and Middle Brady Boy took home the science comic books from the Museum of Science and Industry. He was having trouble pronoucing "Ecosystem," so I don't know exactly how much science he'll get out of them, but he liked them and he'll look at them and maybe he'll even get his big brother to take a look, too.
Even Littlest Brady Boy stopped in and drew something. I think one of his sisters or cousins took it home to show his mom.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Loss of Memory
Over the weekend Memory Girl and Auntie's daughter borrowed my Memory game and the book Not a Stick. Unfortunately, they got left out overnight in the thunderstorm. The book actually survived in decent shape, but the Memory cards were pretty much ruined. I let the girls divide up the ones that hadn't totally fallen apart and take them home.
I forget where I got that, but I'll have to go looking for a replacement. Once Memory returns, I think I'll have to be a bit stricter about how long you can use it and getting it back before night time.
On Sunday night we took out the ladder and Sarah, Brady Bughunter, a couple of his cousins and Jay-Z all got some turns climbing up and picking the long green cylinders off my tree that isn't a maple tree. I wish I knew what kind of tree this is, but I don't. The pods are a foot long and solid. I assume it is some kind of seed, but if so, it's all one seed--we opened one up and didn't find seeds inside.
Jay-Z helped me transplant my basil into a big pot. He dug the hole, and I put the plant in to make sure it was at the right level. Then he filled in the dirt while I went over and turned on the hose, gently. He picked up the hose and watered the newly potted plant.
"Thanks for helping, Jay-Z," I said.
"I like helping," he answered.
Lest we forget, this is the same kid who has a mother in jail and a father on the corner with a bottle in his hand. One or maybe even two of his cousins just got out of the big house. His auntie worries he will grow up to be a criminal.
I worry about that, too. And I worry that people will look at Jay-Z and never even know that he likes to chase bugs and pick pods off trees and that he likes to be helpful if you give him a job to do.
I don't know if it's a cultural loss of memory or if we just don't want to know, but we seem to be good at forgetting that "those kids" who struggle in school, who get in trouble, who make great fodder for sociological study, they really aren't all that terribly different from "our kids:" nieces, nephews, sons, daughters, kids known to the people who study sociology or write newspaper columns about "those kids."
So I hope I don't forget Jay-Z's smile on the ladder, reaching for the green pod hanging just beyond his fingertips.
I forget where I got that, but I'll have to go looking for a replacement. Once Memory returns, I think I'll have to be a bit stricter about how long you can use it and getting it back before night time.
On Sunday night we took out the ladder and Sarah, Brady Bughunter, a couple of his cousins and Jay-Z all got some turns climbing up and picking the long green cylinders off my tree that isn't a maple tree. I wish I knew what kind of tree this is, but I don't. The pods are a foot long and solid. I assume it is some kind of seed, but if so, it's all one seed--we opened one up and didn't find seeds inside.
Jay-Z helped me transplant my basil into a big pot. He dug the hole, and I put the plant in to make sure it was at the right level. Then he filled in the dirt while I went over and turned on the hose, gently. He picked up the hose and watered the newly potted plant.
"Thanks for helping, Jay-Z," I said.
"I like helping," he answered.
Lest we forget, this is the same kid who has a mother in jail and a father on the corner with a bottle in his hand. One or maybe even two of his cousins just got out of the big house. His auntie worries he will grow up to be a criminal.
I worry about that, too. And I worry that people will look at Jay-Z and never even know that he likes to chase bugs and pick pods off trees and that he likes to be helpful if you give him a job to do.
I don't know if it's a cultural loss of memory or if we just don't want to know, but we seem to be good at forgetting that "those kids" who struggle in school, who get in trouble, who make great fodder for sociological study, they really aren't all that terribly different from "our kids:" nieces, nephews, sons, daughters, kids known to the people who study sociology or write newspaper columns about "those kids."
So I hope I don't forget Jay-Z's smile on the ladder, reaching for the green pod hanging just beyond his fingertips.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Ugly Stuff
It's getting ugly out here. Or maybe I'm just learning too much for my own good.
Jay-Z's auntie told me Joey and one of his pals disrespected her. Apparently she told Joey to stop doing something, and he told her she should perform acts on them that no 11-year-old should be talking about. Auntie was understandably furious, but her solution left me speechless. She hired another boy from our block to beat up Joey and teach him a lesson.
I haven't talked to Joey about this yet. I don't know if I will or not. We haven't been talking much. Auntie suggested he has been out tagging garages. I took a walk down the alley tonight after work and spotted a garage with what I believe is his signature.
I have been thinking about talking to his mother about putting him in Casa Tepeyac/Boys & Girls Town for the first month of his new school. It would certainly help him get more homework done than he would if he stays home, I think. Given these new pieces of info, maybe it is time to get him out of here. This won't be the easiest conversation to have, though.
The other ugly is I'm starting to get to know more of the "who's in charge here" down and dirty. When you have three strong black women with different ideas about how to get business done, that is not an easy thing to negotiate.
Tonight, with the gorgeous, comfortable weather, there were an awful lot of people out on the street. They were not people who live on any of these blocks. This is making me a bit more nervous about the question of security with this block party. A cop friend of mine suggested writing a letter to the commander asking for some police presence (at the end of the party, especially) and taking it to the district advisory meeting. I'll do that.
Jay-Z's auntie told me Joey and one of his pals disrespected her. Apparently she told Joey to stop doing something, and he told her she should perform acts on them that no 11-year-old should be talking about. Auntie was understandably furious, but her solution left me speechless. She hired another boy from our block to beat up Joey and teach him a lesson.
I haven't talked to Joey about this yet. I don't know if I will or not. We haven't been talking much. Auntie suggested he has been out tagging garages. I took a walk down the alley tonight after work and spotted a garage with what I believe is his signature.
I have been thinking about talking to his mother about putting him in Casa Tepeyac/Boys & Girls Town for the first month of his new school. It would certainly help him get more homework done than he would if he stays home, I think. Given these new pieces of info, maybe it is time to get him out of here. This won't be the easiest conversation to have, though.
The other ugly is I'm starting to get to know more of the "who's in charge here" down and dirty. When you have three strong black women with different ideas about how to get business done, that is not an easy thing to negotiate.
Tonight, with the gorgeous, comfortable weather, there were an awful lot of people out on the street. They were not people who live on any of these blocks. This is making me a bit more nervous about the question of security with this block party. A cop friend of mine suggested writing a letter to the commander asking for some police presence (at the end of the party, especially) and taking it to the district advisory meeting. I'll do that.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Puzzle of the Week: Block Party Organizing
OK, friends, I've gone and done it. Put my foot right smack in the middle of block politics. I had a nice thing going here for almost four years, but now here we go.
So Jay-Z's aunt has been in a tizzy about putting together a block party. (She really wants to do it so she can have a big blowout birthday party for her own daughter, but she put her self-interest aside enough to move it into August rather than July and make it a back-to-school event, since Chavez starts so early--August 4 this year). The lady at the end of the block who has organized this in previous years wanted to do it in August, which I had said "sounds great" about back in June. I tried to reach Block Lady before we went off to the alderman, but we didn't connect. So we went earlier this week and got petitions. If you don't have an organized block club you have to gather petitions to get a block party permit.
So Auntie has been out getting signatures. She went to visit Block Lady last night and they ended up in a shouting match. (Let's just say I saw that coming when we didn't talk to her before we went to the alderman.) I saw Block Lady this morning and tried to patch things up a little. Though she seemed mollified, her point to me was we are on our own for getting this thing done. She'll advise, but whatever stuff she used to get she's not getting. "You're gonna have to pay for this yourselves," she warned.
This annoyed Auntie no end. However, she is under the mistaken impression that the city will show up with lots of hot dogs and back-to-school goodies for the kids. (We will be lucky if we get a fire truck and a jumping jack, especially on three week's advance time. I need to find out if we can get hot dogs from our state rep for cleaning up the block. That may be possible.) Auntie does realize we will need to solicit donations, and she's got time to pound the pavement, which I don't.
I will hit the street tonight to try and recruit some help getting food and other goodies donated. I will also be asking around for recommendations for a good DJ: one who will play music that crosses ethnic and age preferences in musical taste.
If any of you all are veterans of block party organizing or have tips on where to get good free stuff, especially school supplies--or a good DJ--please comment!
So Jay-Z's aunt has been in a tizzy about putting together a block party. (She really wants to do it so she can have a big blowout birthday party for her own daughter, but she put her self-interest aside enough to move it into August rather than July and make it a back-to-school event, since Chavez starts so early--August 4 this year). The lady at the end of the block who has organized this in previous years wanted to do it in August, which I had said "sounds great" about back in June. I tried to reach Block Lady before we went off to the alderman, but we didn't connect. So we went earlier this week and got petitions. If you don't have an organized block club you have to gather petitions to get a block party permit.
So Auntie has been out getting signatures. She went to visit Block Lady last night and they ended up in a shouting match. (Let's just say I saw that coming when we didn't talk to her before we went to the alderman.) I saw Block Lady this morning and tried to patch things up a little. Though she seemed mollified, her point to me was we are on our own for getting this thing done. She'll advise, but whatever stuff she used to get she's not getting. "You're gonna have to pay for this yourselves," she warned.
This annoyed Auntie no end. However, she is under the mistaken impression that the city will show up with lots of hot dogs and back-to-school goodies for the kids. (We will be lucky if we get a fire truck and a jumping jack, especially on three week's advance time. I need to find out if we can get hot dogs from our state rep for cleaning up the block. That may be possible.) Auntie does realize we will need to solicit donations, and she's got time to pound the pavement, which I don't.
I will hit the street tonight to try and recruit some help getting food and other goodies donated. I will also be asking around for recommendations for a good DJ: one who will play music that crosses ethnic and age preferences in musical taste.
If any of you all are veterans of block party organizing or have tips on where to get good free stuff, especially school supplies--or a good DJ--please comment!
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Junior Insect Lifesaving
Just a little more from Camp Marshfield today--early on, Sarah was showing off a grasshopper she found in the yard when she dropped it by accident and it landed in a puddle of water at the bottom of the basement stairs. (Littlest Brady had been fooling with my hose and it hadn't quite shut off, so there was still a puddle after I discovered this and turned off the hose all the way.)
"Oh, no! He might drown!" she cried. "I have to save him!" She rushed down the stairs and looked intently at the puddle. "There he is!" She managed to get him on her finger without crushing him and came back up to ground level.
"Put him down on the grass and let him dry out," I suggested.
She went for the concrete instead. We all thought the creature might take a moment to rest. But no. Instantly he let out a three-foot jump and got away.
"I saved him! I'm a hero!" Sarah yelled proudly.
"You are a hero. Good job!" I said and gave her a high-five.
This got them talking about heroes. Brady Girl was Sarah's hero today for catching her Nintendo when Sarah dropped it. Sarah was a hero today for saving the grasshopper. Somebody had a reason I've now forgotten for why Brady Bughunter was a hero today.
"Maritza is our hero every day," said Sarah. (I swear to God I did not make that up.) Brady Girl agreed. Brady Boy was too busy bughunting.
I tell this piece publicly only because Maritza absolutely could not be Camp Marshfield's hero without all the great support from readers of this blog, who have donated about a couple hundred bucks' worth of books, cool games and priceless moral support to the camp un-director just by reading the blog. You are all my heroes, every day. (I'm not making that up either.)
And by the way, I'm sitting out on the back porch with my laptop and some bug I don't recognize keeps flying around. It looks like a beetle with its wings shut but flies more like a bee or a wasp. Guess I'll have to go try looking for it in the bug guide.
"Oh, no! He might drown!" she cried. "I have to save him!" She rushed down the stairs and looked intently at the puddle. "There he is!" She managed to get him on her finger without crushing him and came back up to ground level.
"Put him down on the grass and let him dry out," I suggested.
She went for the concrete instead. We all thought the creature might take a moment to rest. But no. Instantly he let out a three-foot jump and got away.
"I saved him! I'm a hero!" Sarah yelled proudly.
"You are a hero. Good job!" I said and gave her a high-five.
This got them talking about heroes. Brady Girl was Sarah's hero today for catching her Nintendo when Sarah dropped it. Sarah was a hero today for saving the grasshopper. Somebody had a reason I've now forgotten for why Brady Bughunter was a hero today.
"Maritza is our hero every day," said Sarah. (I swear to God I did not make that up.) Brady Girl agreed. Brady Boy was too busy bughunting.
I tell this piece publicly only because Maritza absolutely could not be Camp Marshfield's hero without all the great support from readers of this blog, who have donated about a couple hundred bucks' worth of books, cool games and priceless moral support to the camp un-director just by reading the blog. You are all my heroes, every day. (I'm not making that up either.)
And by the way, I'm sitting out on the back porch with my laptop and some bug I don't recognize keeps flying around. It looks like a beetle with its wings shut but flies more like a bee or a wasp. Guess I'll have to go try looking for it in the bug guide.
The Bug Guide Is a Hit
Well, after a July 4 holiday, Camp Marshfield got back into full swing late this afternoon, when Sarah and her bug-hunting friends arrived in my back yard and began shouting excitedly over their latest finds.
"Oh, goody, I get to bring out the bug guide," I thought. Many thanks to the Rogers Park friends who have graciously sent along their copy of the National Audubon Society's field guide to North American insects and spiders. It's a great resource--the front section is all photos, grouped into types: caterpillars, beetles, moths, butterflies, grasshoppers/crickets/cicadas, flies and spiders, to name some but not all the categories.
"Hey, you guys, look what I got," I called out the back door.
"Maritza!" they all shrieked. "Look what we've got!"
So we traded: bugs for bug guide. Brady Bughunter Boy was the first to grab it, I believe, and he spotted some bugs he'd seen before right away. Sarah got it next and recognized quite a few bugs, many of which she'd found in Chez Maritza's back yard Even Sarah's four-year-old niece wanted to look at the bug pictures, at least for a little while.
Then a Brady Girl arrived, and we had to get the puzzle pieces out--that's what we call the box full of wood and cardboard items that look like puzzle pieces but work more like Legos or Tinkertoys--you use them to make things, not to put a puzzle together. But we keep calling them puzzle pieces because that's sort of what they look like.
So a couple of kids made things out of puzzle pieces and a couple of other kids went bug-hunting, and Sarah's niece took a look at this book I love called Not a Stick.
Then Sarah and Brady Bughunter wanted to grab the long green seed pods that hang down temptingly from the tree in the back yard. If they stand on my raised parking pad they can almost reach the lowest-hanging ones, but not quite. So I agreed to go in my house and get out my indoor ladder and let them climb up on it. They got seed pods, from which Brady Bughunter was going to make "pizza," but then he and Sarah got interested in the bugs and discarded bug exoskeletons to be found on the tree leaves. Even little Angel from next door wanted to climb the ladder and yank on some leaves. It was all quite exciting and Angel cried when I took the ladder back in the house.
Once that was done, it was time for another favorite activity. "Who wants a snack?" I asked. Everybody did, loudly and emphatically.
Fortunately Camp Marshfield stocked up on granola bars at Costco while picking up barbecue food--I was hoping the box of 96 two-packs would last the summer, but two new cousins of Jay-Z's dropped by and one of them was hungry. I think she ate five packs by herself. "Do you have any cookies?" she asked me before trying them.
"No," I said firmly. "What you see is what you get." (Although I must 'fess up I went to the Ashland Dominick's tonight and their cookies were on sale, including the maple creme ones I adore and never buy because I'd eat the whole bag by myself. This time I did buy the bag, plus a bag of chocolate chunk, because they're for Camp Marshfield, right? Yeah, right. "This is exactly the kind of thing Dad would have done," I thought in the grocery store aisle, laughed, and took them to the register. No, I haven't eaten any yet.)
In the midst of the feeding frenzy, Junior and his little brother showed up to do homework. Junior has a giant pack of math homework for Golder College Prep that is supposed to last him until August 14. Thank God Medicine Man has already worked on it with him twice, and gotten pretty far into it--I had to Google "how to divide mixed numbers" because I haven't done it for so long I forgot how.
At some point in all this, I did have a few quiet moments to talk with Sarah and one of the Brady Girls about how their Fourth of July was and so forth. Brady Girl is pretty far into her Magic Tree book now; her sister is finished the twister one but wants to re-read a chapter or take it to school or something. I gave her the one on rain forests, too. I asked if she wanted it and she shrugged like "maybe," but then she took it, so we'll see. If it rains she might read it.
Memory Girl came by and she read Not a Stick all by herself. I like this book because the words are very simple, the illustrations are gorgeous, and the theme is actually pretty deep. She liked the book so much she wanted to take it home. "What was your favorite way he used the stick?" I asked her.
"The sword," she said.
"Yeah, that was cool. I liked the leash on the dinosaur, too. Did you like that?"
She nodded yes.
Later on they were all using my sidewalk chalk out front and I was going to the store, so I took the book over and gave it to her to take home.
"Oh, goody, I get to bring out the bug guide," I thought. Many thanks to the Rogers Park friends who have graciously sent along their copy of the National Audubon Society's field guide to North American insects and spiders. It's a great resource--the front section is all photos, grouped into types: caterpillars, beetles, moths, butterflies, grasshoppers/crickets/cicadas, flies and spiders, to name some but not all the categories.
"Hey, you guys, look what I got," I called out the back door.
"Maritza!" they all shrieked. "Look what we've got!"
So we traded: bugs for bug guide. Brady Bughunter Boy was the first to grab it, I believe, and he spotted some bugs he'd seen before right away. Sarah got it next and recognized quite a few bugs, many of which she'd found in Chez Maritza's back yard Even Sarah's four-year-old niece wanted to look at the bug pictures, at least for a little while.
Then a Brady Girl arrived, and we had to get the puzzle pieces out--that's what we call the box full of wood and cardboard items that look like puzzle pieces but work more like Legos or Tinkertoys--you use them to make things, not to put a puzzle together. But we keep calling them puzzle pieces because that's sort of what they look like.
So a couple of kids made things out of puzzle pieces and a couple of other kids went bug-hunting, and Sarah's niece took a look at this book I love called Not a Stick.
Then Sarah and Brady Bughunter wanted to grab the long green seed pods that hang down temptingly from the tree in the back yard. If they stand on my raised parking pad they can almost reach the lowest-hanging ones, but not quite. So I agreed to go in my house and get out my indoor ladder and let them climb up on it. They got seed pods, from which Brady Bughunter was going to make "pizza," but then he and Sarah got interested in the bugs and discarded bug exoskeletons to be found on the tree leaves. Even little Angel from next door wanted to climb the ladder and yank on some leaves. It was all quite exciting and Angel cried when I took the ladder back in the house.
Once that was done, it was time for another favorite activity. "Who wants a snack?" I asked. Everybody did, loudly and emphatically.
Fortunately Camp Marshfield stocked up on granola bars at Costco while picking up barbecue food--I was hoping the box of 96 two-packs would last the summer, but two new cousins of Jay-Z's dropped by and one of them was hungry. I think she ate five packs by herself. "Do you have any cookies?" she asked me before trying them.
"No," I said firmly. "What you see is what you get." (Although I must 'fess up I went to the Ashland Dominick's tonight and their cookies were on sale, including the maple creme ones I adore and never buy because I'd eat the whole bag by myself. This time I did buy the bag, plus a bag of chocolate chunk, because they're for Camp Marshfield, right? Yeah, right. "This is exactly the kind of thing Dad would have done," I thought in the grocery store aisle, laughed, and took them to the register. No, I haven't eaten any yet.)
In the midst of the feeding frenzy, Junior and his little brother showed up to do homework. Junior has a giant pack of math homework for Golder College Prep that is supposed to last him until August 14. Thank God Medicine Man has already worked on it with him twice, and gotten pretty far into it--I had to Google "how to divide mixed numbers" because I haven't done it for so long I forgot how.
At some point in all this, I did have a few quiet moments to talk with Sarah and one of the Brady Girls about how their Fourth of July was and so forth. Brady Girl is pretty far into her Magic Tree book now; her sister is finished the twister one but wants to re-read a chapter or take it to school or something. I gave her the one on rain forests, too. I asked if she wanted it and she shrugged like "maybe," but then she took it, so we'll see. If it rains she might read it.
Memory Girl came by and she read Not a Stick all by herself. I like this book because the words are very simple, the illustrations are gorgeous, and the theme is actually pretty deep. She liked the book so much she wanted to take it home. "What was your favorite way he used the stick?" I asked her.
"The sword," she said.
"Yeah, that was cool. I liked the leash on the dinosaur, too. Did you like that?"
She nodded yes.
Later on they were all using my sidewalk chalk out front and I was going to the store, so I took the book over and gave it to her to take home.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Fireworks Rained Out
OK, one last thing. I just went out to see the higher quality fireworks display -- less noise, more pretty lights. Peter Pan's dad was just getting warmed up when it started to sprinkle, then poured down in buckets. I got in the front door seconds before getting thoroughly soaked. I can hear the kids screaming outside, enjoying getting wet.
Peter Pan's dad wanted to know if we could block the street on Friday for a fireworks display. "I could do a kick-ass show for you all," he bragged. I'm sure he could, based on the very small taste we just got, which set off three car alarms from the powerful explosions. However, having just called the alderman's office today to find out about getting a block party permit, they told me you have to give them two or three weeks' notice.
With that, I'm getting some sleep while the rain beats down and keeps the explosions from happening. 'Til next week.
Peter Pan's dad wanted to know if we could block the street on Friday for a fireworks display. "I could do a kick-ass show for you all," he bragged. I'm sure he could, based on the very small taste we just got, which set off three car alarms from the powerful explosions. However, having just called the alderman's office today to find out about getting a block party permit, they told me you have to give them two or three weeks' notice.
With that, I'm getting some sleep while the rain beats down and keeps the explosions from happening. 'Til next week.
Tattler Takes a Vacation
Well, having posted the good news about how my friends' summer gigs are working out, I'm going to finish my Growing Home spinach with red pepper and homemade dressing (it's supposed to be homemade mayonnaise, but it's pretty mustardy because that's the way I like it), then pack and head downstate for the weekend to enjoy a quieter Fourth of July than the one on Marshfield Avenue will be. Medicine Man and our prospective new housemate will hold down the fort while I'm gone, but the Tattler will take a break until next week.
Happy Independence Day, all!
Happy Independence Day, all!
Radio Arte Report
This evening the younger kids were running around catching fireworks while the older kids were letting off firecrackers under the watchful eyes of the Brady parents. Many of the Brady girls were hanging with their mothers on the front stoop of their house, so I braved the noise and went by to say hello.
The two girls I hooked up with summer jobs told me they'd been going for two days and they love it. They get to do theater games and they are meeting a great group of people, many of whom live here in Back of the Yards. It turns out half the Holy Cross marimba players are doing this thing--I exaggerate, but only slightly. All the participants but the two Brady girls are already in college or starting next fall.
"Everybody's really nice," said the younger Brady. "I can't believe I'm the youngest one there!" They're now hooked up with a ride from one of the Holy Cross marimba players, and they met the musician I interviewed for the Peace & Education Scholarship, who will be starting at UIC next fall as a music major. "On the way home, we make her sing in the car for us," said younger Brady. "She has a really pretty voice."
"This is the best summer ever!" enthused younger Brady. Her older sister is happy for her and thinks it's a good thing she's spending her summer with a bunch of really nice older kids. I do, too. Plus, I'm really glad they are making connections north of 47th street, to top it all off. And I did give the older Brady girl the email address of someone at my party on Saturday, which might produce even more good connections for all involved.
I believe I posted before that these two Brady girls got accepted to Radio Arte's summer job/training program, Salud:Healing Through the Arts. They'll be writing radio novelas this summer dramatizing health issues facing immigrants. We had a poster who argued with the use of the word immigrant rather than "illegal immigrant" based on the issues one of the Brady girls raised, but I suspect the program will cover issues for the entire immigrant community. A huge one is language. I was at Northwestern on Monday and noticed they had a sign listing all the languages for which translation services are available. Unfortunately, many hospitals don't have such resources. This 2002 story from The Chicago Reporter talks about the shortage of medical interpreters available in suburban health clinics. As increasing numbers of immigrants to the Chicago area head straight for the suburbs, clinics lacking qualified interpreters are stuck asking patients to bring family members or friends to translate, which can be difficult when discussing sensitive medical issues. Worse, patient health care can be compromised when communication is so difficult.
This is true in city clinics, too, as Junior's experience showed over Christmas when his mom had to go to Mercy with a torn placenta. Junior was the only one in the emergency room who could translate for him mom, and much as I love him, I'm not sure I'd want him to be my translator if I were stuck in the hospital with a torn placenta.
The two girls I hooked up with summer jobs told me they'd been going for two days and they love it. They get to do theater games and they are meeting a great group of people, many of whom live here in Back of the Yards. It turns out half the Holy Cross marimba players are doing this thing--I exaggerate, but only slightly. All the participants but the two Brady girls are already in college or starting next fall.
"Everybody's really nice," said the younger Brady. "I can't believe I'm the youngest one there!" They're now hooked up with a ride from one of the Holy Cross marimba players, and they met the musician I interviewed for the Peace & Education Scholarship, who will be starting at UIC next fall as a music major. "On the way home, we make her sing in the car for us," said younger Brady. "She has a really pretty voice."
"This is the best summer ever!" enthused younger Brady. Her older sister is happy for her and thinks it's a good thing she's spending her summer with a bunch of really nice older kids. I do, too. Plus, I'm really glad they are making connections north of 47th street, to top it all off. And I did give the older Brady girl the email address of someone at my party on Saturday, which might produce even more good connections for all involved.
I believe I posted before that these two Brady girls got accepted to Radio Arte's summer job/training program, Salud:Healing Through the Arts. They'll be writing radio novelas this summer dramatizing health issues facing immigrants. We had a poster who argued with the use of the word immigrant rather than "illegal immigrant" based on the issues one of the Brady girls raised, but I suspect the program will cover issues for the entire immigrant community. A huge one is language. I was at Northwestern on Monday and noticed they had a sign listing all the languages for which translation services are available. Unfortunately, many hospitals don't have such resources. This 2002 story from The Chicago Reporter talks about the shortage of medical interpreters available in suburban health clinics. As increasing numbers of immigrants to the Chicago area head straight for the suburbs, clinics lacking qualified interpreters are stuck asking patients to bring family members or friends to translate, which can be difficult when discussing sensitive medical issues. Worse, patient health care can be compromised when communication is so difficult.
This is true in city clinics, too, as Junior's experience showed over Christmas when his mom had to go to Mercy with a torn placenta. Junior was the only one in the emergency room who could translate for him mom, and much as I love him, I'm not sure I'd want him to be my translator if I were stuck in the hospital with a torn placenta.
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