To My Dad and Granddad

Some friends and I were having a bit of a discussion about what's right and wrong to remember on Memorial Day (yes, it's to honor those who died during war), but I wanted to give a shout out to my Dad and Granddad, who fought and lived through the Korean War and WWII. I have some relatives in the Army and Air Force right now, but I'll wait until Veterans Day for them.

Thanks to all those who lived and died.

Thanks to all who are fighting now.

Dad during the Korean War

Granddad during World War II

MOHO in SoBro

Pardon the grand escape, it's been awhile since I've posted, but I moved, turned a year older (though still a dollar short) and have paid my first, waay-biig, student loan bill. Only 194 more to go.

I've made the move from Carroll Gardens in Brooklyn to the South Bronx neighborhood of Mott Haven.

"Some people" *said with a Bush-like inflection* have given my new neighborhood the sobriquet of "SoBro," which stands for South Bronx.

You will, from now on, laugh at the term "SoBro" like I do. I actually like its real name, Mott Haven, or as I have affectionately begun to call it, MoHo. Or MoHa. But I like the sound of MoHo better.

Jordan Mott's Haven has transited from a 19th-century Irish-American enclave along the banks of the Harlem River to the birth place of African-American rap music. Its run the gamut from idyllic brick townhouses to massive housing projects, and is one of the poorest areas in America. Robert Moses, the urban planning NYC wunderkind who killed and created New York, did a job on the neighborhood when he built the Major Deegan right through it. That Robert. What a guy.

I'm located on the industrial waterfront, once full of working warehouses doing water-related manufacturing things, and now filled with a gigantic birdshop, chop shops, antique shops, car washes, and a bunch of garbage trucks. Oh, and Sin City... but that's another story.

If I walk onto the roof, I can see the Harlem River over the bird store and the Third Avenue Bridge towards Manhattan. I can see the Empire State Building when I walk toward home from the subway. The building I live in is full of hipsters of all stripes, artists and musicians, but also social workers and teachers. My roommate is pretty cool, and probably for the sake of propriety, I shouldn't blog about him... I know he reads the blog!

The apartment is a two-bedroom loft that my roomie constructed, and he's done a great job. I still have a bunch of stuff in boxes, but that's because my room is still a mess, because frankly, I'm exhausted, so I'm moving very slowly. Have been exhausted for a few months now, and it all culminated two weeks ago when I tried to celebrate my birthday, pack, move, and unpack in a four-day period. I'm still hurting.

This whole moving thing came upon me one panicked night at the start of February when it fully hit me that I had to finally begin paying my student loan, how there was no way around it any longer, especially since I have a 'good job' now. Zanz died on January 26, and come February 3, I knew it was time to cut my rent and move closer to work... and that meant moving to the Bronx, or at least close to the Bronx, but I really didn't want to move any further into the Bronx than were I am right now. I saw a few other places in Washington Heights and Marble Hill, but this place was the second one that I saw, and I actually wanted to move here above the others.

So within the space of less than the short month of February, I decided to move. I endlessly perused Craigslist and dreamt of luxury buildings. I saw several apartments, none of which were luxury. I met several great potential roommates, and only one crazy person, and got a new place. By March 15th, I had hired my friend to move me, packed up, turned 42, moved, unpacked, and now here I sit.

In the ghetto. Heehe...

Which all led to four straight nights where I was seeing double in my right eye, I was so tired. Dog tired. And hence the reason my room is still a wreck, and I have stuff in boxes outside. But it's all pretty neat out in the common area.

I hate to promolgate bad neighborhood stereotypes, but just to give you an idea of where I'm located, I turn your attention to the quintessential 1980s book, The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe. In that story, the rich Sherman McCoy hits two black youths, at Bruckner and 134th street, which takes place about a block from here. It's the South Bronx, dude, it's got a baaaaddddd reeeppuutation.

Now, however, NYC real estate dame Barbara Corcoran has proclaimed the area the "New Harlem" or something like that, so real estate is way overpriced already, and while more people with funds are moving in, it's still a neighborhood with a lot of lingering problems.

I think the landscape is strangely beautiful, though some of it is as ugly as sin. (I haven't been inside Sin City, so I don't know what sin really looks like, I guess.) I know one thing, when I walk around, I see the industrial wasteland, I see the depressing, massive and majestic housing projects, and I see the pretty things, too... check out the pretty areas among the poverty. (I live in one of those piano buildings.)

Mott Haven has seen better days, and with the revitilization of the area, Corcoran cooing about the neighborhood, and the upcoming new Bronx Terminal Market and Yankee Stadium projects, which aren't far away, maybe things will be brighter yet again. Hopefully those who have spent their lives here will have 'better' lives with all the changes about to sweep in, maybe some new jobs and industry at least, and maybe the refurbishing of many of the old brownstones will be repaired. It would be such a waste for both people and buildings to continue to fade away.

Maybe more black and hispanic professionals will move back to the neighborhood. That would be nice and maybe good for the neighborhood.

I'll be here for a while, and I'm eager to explore, and get to know the neighborhood, maybe use my high school Spanish, maybe hope like hell I don't get jumped on or called white girl. Jump on me all you want, but call me white girl, and I'm gonna kick your ass.

Moho in the SoBro indeed.

Battle of the Fancy Feast Frists and Fords

Would it ever be possible for the Republican Party to act like grownups?

Hmm... doubtful.

I was reading Crooks and Liars and came across a posting regarding the National Republican Senatorial Committee's new "Fancy Ford" website regarding the alledged spending habits of Tennessee Representative Harold Ford as he runs for the Senate. Ford is running for the departing (praise Jeebus!) Bill Frist's Senate seat.

If indeed Ford's got a personal spending problem (unlike any other member of Congress /snark), then fine, go ahead and make an issue of it. But can ya do so like a grownup and not a five-year-old runnng for what is supposed to be the 'noble' house of Congress? Is that possible? Even for the Republican Party? Wait... wait... don't say anything... I know the answer to that.... NO.

The Fancy Ford site, with its slick styling, is reminiscent of an infomercial. OK, fine, but on top of that, look at that uppity Negro with the fancy meals, pedicures, white women (hey, it's the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders on the front page!) and penchant for flowers. Ok, those combined do sound a little cracked, I suppose, bu on top of that, have they no idea that "Fancy" makes him sound like a step and fechit fancy dancer from the days of the Cakewalk? DO THEY?

I'm sure there were more mature ways of pointing out Mr. Ford's spending habits than what the high falutin' men and women of the Republican National Senatorial Committee's advertising staff came up with. But, in reality, it's just another political season of hate and immaturity coming from the Republicans. You would think when their president is hovering at only 37 percent, and their own numbers aren't that great either, that they would try a different, sensible, compelling, and intelligent, nay, more mature, way of smearing their opponents.

Oh, what the hell do I expect anyway?

So, in the name of eye for an eye, the Dems have put up a "Very Fancy Frist" site.

Kinda sounds like fancy frist feast cat food.

Kinda sounds like a retort from a five-year-old, too.

Condolences to the Reeve and Parks Families

It's one painful whammy to lose your dad to a horrible and paralyzing accident; it's yet another painful whammy to lose your mom from a disease that usually claims those who have a vice such as smoking, coming completely out of the blue. To lose both of them both in little more than a year must be a living hell.

When I heard about the death of actress, philanthropist and devoted wife and mother, Diane Reeve (the wife of actor Christopher Reeve, who died in 2004 from a long bout of paralysis after a riding accident) today due to lung cancer, I was so saddened by the Reeve family double whammy. My sincere condolences go out to their children, especially young Will Reeve, who's lost both of his parents at such a young age.

In fact, my sincere sympathy goes out for all kids who have to go through this, losing their parents either through disease, accident or war.

I saw Christopher Reeve speak at New York's Winter Garden in Battery Park back in 2000 or so. I was a caterwaiter at a fundraising event for his foundation. It was difficult to see Mr. Reeve paralyzed as he was. I remember how sad the other waiters and I were. It was difficult to watch him breath slowly, speak, and then breathe again, by the help of a ventilator. I felt, however, that I was truly fortunate to witness a man with such stamina and integrity. In fact, it was one of the small moments in my life that helped me break free of depression. Reeve, despite his evident problems, seemed generally happy.

May we all be so lucky in the face of it.

A Happier Moment

On another note of passing, Gordon Parks, an icon of the African-American community for more than 70 years, died today as well.

When it rains, it pours.

Ella Watson, U.S. Government Charwoman
by Gordon Parks

White People This, Black People That

If there's one thing about coming home to Detroit that I can always count on, it's that the issue of race will more than likely rear its head up sooner rather than later. I believe it took about a day for the first inkling to be heard, and by Christmas Day, it was white people this, white people that. It gets to be so tiring to hear it, but I have to ask myself, is it perception or is it truth? And does one person's perception of the truth make it invalid or not? Is it real or not? I just don't know anymore.

Let's start off first by saying that if you get a chance to read Bob Herbert's New York Times op-ed from today ("A New Civil Rights Movement"), he brings up some interesting points. (Hopefully Truthout will pick up the op-ed and rescue it from the behind the New York Times selectwall.)

Herbert starts off his op-ed thusly:

One of the cruelest aspects of slavery was the way it wrenched apart black families, separating husbands from wives and children from their parents.

It is ironic, to say the least, that now, nearly a century and a half after the Emancipation Proclamation, much of the most devastating damage to black families, and especially black children, is self-inflicted.

You don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to know that some of the most serious problems facing blacks in the United States - from poverty to incarceration rates to death at an early age - are linked in varying degrees to behavioral issues and the corrosion of black family life, especially the absence of fathers.

Another devastating aspect of slavery was the numbing ignorance that often resulted from the prohibition against the education of slaves. It was against the law in most instances for slaves to even learn to read. Now, with education widely (though imperfectly) available, we have entire legions of black youngsters turning their backs on school, choosing instead to wallow in a self-imposed ignorance that in the long run is as destructive as a bullet to the brain.

Herbert essentially says that many of the plights of blacks today are self-inflicted wounds, particularly "behavioral issues and the corrosion of black family life," and choosing to "wallow in a self-imposed ignorance," when it comes to the issue of education.

OK, Bob, you've hit on some very raw, vibrant and essential points. And luckily, Herbert acknowledges that a large portion of the black population is not poor and are leading productive lives. At the same time, he goes on to say that millions are being left "out in the cold, caught in a cycle of poverty, ignorance, illness and violence that is taking a horrendous toll."

Yep. I see it in Detroit. I see abandoned houses, boarded up, on many city streets. I see the signs of poverty everywhere, mixed in here and there with middle and upper-class affluence. I see my adopted sisters and brothers trying to grab the golden educational ring, but are struggling to make it academically. Not necessarily because they are 'wallowing in a self-destructive pattern' regarding education, but mostly because they weren't given the proper tools to survive academically in the first place. Partly that's a matter of were they came from, and how tough it is to play catch up by the time they got to my parent's house. You stop trying after a while when it becomes too tough, especially if you're a teenager dealing with those precious hormones.

Anyway, Herbert goes on to sound the clarion call, that there's a crisis in the black community, and though racism is still rampant, he believes that...much of the suffering in black America could be alleviated by changes in behavior. What's more, those behavioral changes would empower the community in ways that would make it easier to successfully confront opponents in government and push the society in a more equitable direction.

I'm not quite sure about this last point. I really want to believe that one could empower the community from the inside and therefore force the outside community to work in a more equitable fashion, but I think part of the problem is that there are too many black folks who believe that nothing, not one thing in the system is going to give them a break in order to rise up and stand on their own two feet. And I believe that there are too many white people who are tired of trying to mollify and understand the black community anymore. Either side is just about fed up with each other. (Of course, this is just probably because I've been beaten down this week with issues of white and black... it always happens when I come home.)

I've had to listen to my dad this week say numerous times that he doesn't understand why Detroit is ranked the poorest city in the country, when everywhere you look people have new cars. He actually said that it might be a conspiracy because white folks are always trying to keep black folks down. I don't know. I look around and see a poor city. He looks around at the city he's been in for fifty years and sees great things, every where.

Yet my niece is home from college, and she believes that she almost failed a class (after getting good grades from every other teacher, and good grades from this class as well) because of possible racism. Her school is pass/fail and her teacher thought of failing her because she mistakenly placed a period outside of a parentheses in a final term paper. I don't know, I wasn't there, but the school is in Milwaukee, and I've heard time and again how segregated and racist that city can be. Was it racism? I have no idea.

I have a friend I went to high school with who can't stand the Mayor of Detroit. And yet my father thinks he's great. Both are black, with different viewpoints of what would make a good Mayor of Detroit. My dad, bless his heart, basically said that only the white folks were for the current Mayor's former opponent, so I guess, if you voted for the opponent and you were black, you were actually white.

Or something like that.

I can't say much about any of this. Truthfully, I'm a bit too lightskinned to really get involved. Does that sound crazy? You bet it does; you bet it is... but once you've been accused of being a honky, an oreo, a white girl, a sell-out, a whatever, believe me, you just don't want to be called those names again. My views are basically that everyone sucks and needs to step back and stop the bullshit and start all over again. I'm tired of blacks crying racism and I'm tired of whites being racist. Chicken or egg, which comes first? Plus, I like alternative rock too much.

Sigh.

Bob Herbert ends his op-ed by proposing a new civil rights movement summit. (God, please let it be with different leaders... uh... did I say that...? well Bob sorta says the same thing...):

The problems facing black people today are comparable in magnitude to those of the Jim Crow era of the 20th century. There were leaders in those days who were equal to the challenge. I believe that nothing short of a new movement, comparable in scope and dedication to that of the civil rights era, is required to bring about the changes in values and behavior needed to halt the self-destruction that is consuming so many black lives. The crucial question is whether the leadership exists to mount such an effort.

A good first step would be a summit meeting of wise and dedicated men and women willing to think about creative new ways to approach such problems as crime and violence, out-of-wedlock births, drug and alcohol abuse, irresponsible sexual behavior, misogyny, and so on.

Addressing issues of values and behavior within the black community should not in any way imply a lessening of the pressure on the broader society to meet its legal and ethical obligations. It should be seen as an essential counterpoint to that pressure. (emphasis added)

Most important, it should be seen as a crucial component of the obligation that black adults have to create a broadly nurturing environment in which succeeding generations of black children can survive and thrive.

Despite the sometimes valiant efforts of individuals and organizations across the country, we are not meeting that obligation now. And that's because there's a vacuum where our leadership should be.

Oohhh... you go, Bob. You know you gonna catch some flack for that...

I was just speaking with my mother and my nephew, and my ma brought up a good point. The world can throw you a lot of curveballs, a lot of hassles, a lot of turmoil, but mostly it's how you deal with all those curveballs, hassles, and turmoil that separates you from those who make it, and those who don't. If you don't have the will inside of you to better yourself, there is no amount of work that anyone can do to make you push yourself. If whatever forum Mr. Herbert is talking about can address the essential problem of self-motivation and will to power, then that's a good place to start. Though how you teach and instill motivation and will without sounding hokey or authoritative, I just don't know.

And how you teach these things with the generation of leaders we have now, I just don't know either. It is time for something new. The leadership vacuum is immense and it's not going to be filled by some Baptist Republican with a "you are all sinners" speech. Nor is it going to be fulfilled by black Democratic Mayors who are either so firmly ensconced in the monied community (black or white) or so firmly ensconced in a self-perpetuating mythos of the "white man this, the black man that" sensibility as to be locked into a neverending cycle of recrimination.

Who is going to fill the void... well, I just don't know that either.

And that's the problem. I just don't know. Do you?

Before I sleep...

Look at the photo on your left.

Please describe, in 50 words or less,
why the blood of black people would boil upon seeing such a scene.
You have 10 minutes to ponder.




Many black people have a lifetime to ponder such things.