And then he came!
A new baby boy, after a week of starting and stopping to go into labor, my roommate finally had her baby.
He is so cute!
But we still don't know his name
I would put up a picture, but i'm not sure if he's ready to be famous yet. He is only 2 1/2 days old!!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Waiting for a baby to come...
when i moved to portland, i got lucky.
i found a house with amazing people living in it. i didn't know them before i came here. i didn't know anyone who knew them. but they welcomed me with pancakes and maple syrup.
I don't think i realized that Marissa was 5 months pregnant until she told me a few days after i arrived. Since then, her belly's gotten bigger and bigger, and riding a bike around town, with her 4 1/2 year old daughter, Innana, hasn't been an option for a couple months.
3 days ago, I went to my friends' house to spend the night...she could feel the baby was on its way. She is having a home birth, so she wanted some privacy, just Ian (the papa), the midwives, and one or two other close friends. The next morning, I got a call from Ian: "no baby yet, you can come home if you want". So i came home to delicious breakfast tacos. After I devoured those tacos, Marissa said her water broke. Okay, now the baby's really coming. So I went back to my friends' house to spend the night, knowing tonight was the night. I went to work the next day, anticipating a call any minute saying the baby had arrived. After work, I rode by the house, just to see if anyone was outside. Ian was on the roof, sitting in the sun. "Ian?" I asked, expectantly. "Still no baby yet".
But Marissa went to get acupuncture that morning, which is a known effective method of inducing labor. So a few hours later, the contractions were getting closer together, so I got out of the house, to spend the night at a different friend's house. Again, I knew, this would be the night. She had a dream about a month ago that the baby was going to come on the 24th in the nighttime, and it was going to be a boy. So last night was the 24th. And I'm still waiting for a phone call, wondering,
did the baby come?
is it a boy?
how tiny is he really?
what is his name?
what does his voice sound like?
and for the first time, really understanding what a blessing it is going to be to be so close to one so new, and watch him grow.
so i wait and wait and wait for a phone call.
so i can go meet my new roommate.
when i moved to portland, i got lucky.
i found a house with amazing people living in it. i didn't know them before i came here. i didn't know anyone who knew them. but they welcomed me with pancakes and maple syrup.
I don't think i realized that Marissa was 5 months pregnant until she told me a few days after i arrived. Since then, her belly's gotten bigger and bigger, and riding a bike around town, with her 4 1/2 year old daughter, Innana, hasn't been an option for a couple months.
3 days ago, I went to my friends' house to spend the night...she could feel the baby was on its way. She is having a home birth, so she wanted some privacy, just Ian (the papa), the midwives, and one or two other close friends. The next morning, I got a call from Ian: "no baby yet, you can come home if you want". So i came home to delicious breakfast tacos. After I devoured those tacos, Marissa said her water broke. Okay, now the baby's really coming. So I went back to my friends' house to spend the night, knowing tonight was the night. I went to work the next day, anticipating a call any minute saying the baby had arrived. After work, I rode by the house, just to see if anyone was outside. Ian was on the roof, sitting in the sun. "Ian?" I asked, expectantly. "Still no baby yet".
But Marissa went to get acupuncture that morning, which is a known effective method of inducing labor. So a few hours later, the contractions were getting closer together, so I got out of the house, to spend the night at a different friend's house. Again, I knew, this would be the night. She had a dream about a month ago that the baby was going to come on the 24th in the nighttime, and it was going to be a boy. So last night was the 24th. And I'm still waiting for a phone call, wondering,
did the baby come?
is it a boy?
how tiny is he really?
what is his name?
what does his voice sound like?
and for the first time, really understanding what a blessing it is going to be to be so close to one so new, and watch him grow.
so i wait and wait and wait for a phone call.
so i can go meet my new roommate.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Proud to be white???
What would you do if your boss sent you an e-mail with the subject "Proud To Be White".
When you first see this subject, you just hope it's not what you think it is. But you open the e-mail, and right away it starts:
I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.
When I am told about our national heritage or about "civilization," I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.
I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.
I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.
I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.
I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to the "person in charge", I will be facing a person of my race.
I am not made acutely aware that my shape, bearing or body odor will be taken as a reflection on my race.
I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without having my co-workers on the job suspect that I got it because of my race.
I can easily find academic courses and institutions which give attention only to people of my race.
I can chose blemish cover or bandages in "flesh" color and have them more or less match my skin.
There are many more examples... And the point is that if you are white, you have to be intentional in noticing these things. They are not always in your face. But people who are not white cannot ignore these things.
It's hard for me to believe that the author of this white pride e-mail did not notice that when you turn on the television, most of the people on the screen are white, unless you're watching one of the few sitcoms about african-americans...are there even any shows with predominantly asian-americans or latinos? I don't know because I rarely watch tv.
And none of this even takes into account the institutional racism that exists in this country. I did some research.
In 1964, 2/3 of the people in prison were white.
In 1994, 2/3 of the people in prison were african american and latino
what happened?
The rate of African American crime has not changed significantly in the past 25 years.
60% of violent crime is commited by white people
only 23% of the people in prison for committing violent crime are white
74% of illegal narcotics users are white
only 10% of the people in prison for using illegal narcotics are white
So the numbers speak for themselves. I am about to e-mail this information to my boss, but i fear that he will have some way of brushing it off. Because our justice system is based on fairness and justice. These numbers must be wrong.
I just found a great article by Tim Wise, "Explaining White Privilege to the Deniers and the Haters" http://www.redroom.com/blog/tim-wise/explaining-white-privilege-deniers-and-haters
I know i cannot expect to change anyone's mind, but the least of my responsibilities is to speak my disagreement and disapproval, and do my best to provide information that may in some way educate and enlighten others. I appreciate the people who have dedicated a lot of their time and energy to articulating these issues.
What would you do if your boss sent you an e-mail with the subject "Proud To Be White".
When you first see this subject, you just hope it's not what you think it is. But you open the e-mail, and right away it starts:
This e-mail is very true...It shows how far our laws have come in making us feel ashamed for being of european culture...It certainly is not what the declaration of independence stood for or the U. S. constitution...
Sad, but very true...
Then there is a picture of a cowboy.
What follows is a disgustingly ignorant tirade complaining about the unfairness that exists in our country...and the author is not talking about institutional racism or white privilege, but that white people are the brunt of a number of racist slurs including "cracker" and "honky", that black people are allowed to march for their race and rights, proclaiming their pride, but if "we" (i.e. white people) wanted to do that, we'd be called racist; that there are so many college scholarships specifically for only people of color, but if there were certain college scholarships for only white people, that would be racist....
The author asks, why can't we have a white history month?
why can't we have a white entertainment television channel?
and there is more, but i will spare you.
It ends by saying, "there is nothing improper about this e-mail. Let's see which of you are proud enough to send it on"
I am trying to find a way to communicate to my boss all the fallacies running rampant throughout this e-mail. Luckily, after talking to him about it, I can see that although he believes the ideas, he is not coming from a place of anger or hatred. Unfortunately, he is coming from a place of extremely stubborn ignorance. So when i speak of white privilege, he tells me how his father, a white man, worked so hard through the great depression, for almost no money, to bring himself and his family up out of poverty... it was not privilege that got him through this, but his own hard work. but what he doesn't think of is that what if his father was black? would he have even been able to get that low-paying job? probably not.
One thing that has been helpful in learning how to communicate about white privelege is this white privelege checklist: unpacking the invisible knapsack.... here are a few from the list: if you find these statements to be true, you have white privelege:
Then there is a picture of a cowboy.
What follows is a disgustingly ignorant tirade complaining about the unfairness that exists in our country...and the author is not talking about institutional racism or white privilege, but that white people are the brunt of a number of racist slurs including "cracker" and "honky", that black people are allowed to march for their race and rights, proclaiming their pride, but if "we" (i.e. white people) wanted to do that, we'd be called racist; that there are so many college scholarships specifically for only people of color, but if there were certain college scholarships for only white people, that would be racist....
The author asks, why can't we have a white history month?
why can't we have a white entertainment television channel?
and there is more, but i will spare you.
It ends by saying, "there is nothing improper about this e-mail. Let's see which of you are proud enough to send it on"
I am trying to find a way to communicate to my boss all the fallacies running rampant throughout this e-mail. Luckily, after talking to him about it, I can see that although he believes the ideas, he is not coming from a place of anger or hatred. Unfortunately, he is coming from a place of extremely stubborn ignorance. So when i speak of white privilege, he tells me how his father, a white man, worked so hard through the great depression, for almost no money, to bring himself and his family up out of poverty... it was not privilege that got him through this, but his own hard work. but what he doesn't think of is that what if his father was black? would he have even been able to get that low-paying job? probably not.
One thing that has been helpful in learning how to communicate about white privelege is this white privelege checklist: unpacking the invisible knapsack.... here are a few from the list: if you find these statements to be true, you have white privelege:
I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely represented.
When I am told about our national heritage or about "civilization," I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.
I can be sure that my children will be given curricular materials that testify to the existence of their race.
I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.
I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.
I can be pretty sure that if I ask to talk to the "person in charge", I will be facing a person of my race.
I am not made acutely aware that my shape, bearing or body odor will be taken as a reflection on my race.
I can take a job with an affirmative action employer without having my co-workers on the job suspect that I got it because of my race.
I can easily find academic courses and institutions which give attention only to people of my race.
I can chose blemish cover or bandages in "flesh" color and have them more or less match my skin.
There are many more examples... And the point is that if you are white, you have to be intentional in noticing these things. They are not always in your face. But people who are not white cannot ignore these things.
It's hard for me to believe that the author of this white pride e-mail did not notice that when you turn on the television, most of the people on the screen are white, unless you're watching one of the few sitcoms about african-americans...are there even any shows with predominantly asian-americans or latinos? I don't know because I rarely watch tv.
And none of this even takes into account the institutional racism that exists in this country. I did some research.
In 1964, 2/3 of the people in prison were white.
In 1994, 2/3 of the people in prison were african american and latino
what happened?
The rate of African American crime has not changed significantly in the past 25 years.
60% of violent crime is commited by white people
only 23% of the people in prison for committing violent crime are white
74% of illegal narcotics users are white
only 10% of the people in prison for using illegal narcotics are white
So the numbers speak for themselves. I am about to e-mail this information to my boss, but i fear that he will have some way of brushing it off. Because our justice system is based on fairness and justice. These numbers must be wrong.
I just found a great article by Tim Wise, "Explaining White Privilege to the Deniers and the Haters" http://www.redroom.com/blog/tim-wise/explaining-white-privilege-deniers-and-haters
I know i cannot expect to change anyone's mind, but the least of my responsibilities is to speak my disagreement and disapproval, and do my best to provide information that may in some way educate and enlighten others. I appreciate the people who have dedicated a lot of their time and energy to articulating these issues.
Sunday, November 02, 2008
a poor little mousie has lost her ear
but never fear
she's made of wool
sebastian's no fool
he wants to find
what's hidden inside
this little boy is one of my new friends heretwo days a week, we go to parks and playgroups,
he's about 17 months old now
and as you can see, he's as happy as can be
before the end of this month, there will be a new roommate living in my house:
an itty bitty baby!
so altogether, we're gonna be a mama, a papa, a big sister, a baby, a thimble, and me -- oh!
and of course! a kitty
one big happy family
so other than that,
i got the garlic planted before halloween...
i voted for obama...
and the season has begun when i wear more layers than i can count
and i've got fenders on my bike
Monday, July 21, 2008
"WHY PORTLAND??"
everybody and their mother seems to be asking me...
well, why the heck not?
how does anyone pick a city to live in?
near their family....i have spent too many years in northern virginia, with its traffic and conservative culture, sorry mom, but you should move to the west coast...
and arkansas is just not where i need to be, sorry dad
um...where they can get a good job....well, i love to work with children, and there are children everywhere, so that doesn't really help me pick.
i know i want to grow my own food, and portland has a really long growing season, almost all year.
i know i want to be really close to big trees and beautiful forests and rivers. it's true there are many places like this in our country, but the northwest is one of the most lush places that i know of.
what else? what is so great about portland?
there is a large alternative community
there are a lot of people on bikes, and not too many big hills
the rent is fairly cheap
most of the houses to live in here have some kind of yard (and you can have chickens and goats!!)
there are a lot of great musicians
a lot of young people
a lot of parks, one of which is full of roses, and it smells so good!
there are free boxes everywhere! (boxes with free things in them)
no sales tax
great farmers markets
vegan restaurants (not that i'm vegan)
unlike boulder(the yuppie town), there is a lot of diversity
a lot of people into different kinds of building, like cob and strawbale, which i want to learn
permaculture and urban farming
doesn't ever get too hot or too cold, although it is gray and rainy a lot
great beer and breweries
i will continue to tell you all the great things about portland as i learn about them.
and you are all welcome to come and visit and find out for yourself
i think i will be here for a long time
everybody and their mother seems to be asking me...
well, why the heck not?
how does anyone pick a city to live in?
near their family....i have spent too many years in northern virginia, with its traffic and conservative culture, sorry mom, but you should move to the west coast...
and arkansas is just not where i need to be, sorry dad
um...where they can get a good job....well, i love to work with children, and there are children everywhere, so that doesn't really help me pick.
i know i want to grow my own food, and portland has a really long growing season, almost all year.
i know i want to be really close to big trees and beautiful forests and rivers. it's true there are many places like this in our country, but the northwest is one of the most lush places that i know of.
what else? what is so great about portland?
there is a large alternative community
there are a lot of people on bikes, and not too many big hills
the rent is fairly cheap
most of the houses to live in here have some kind of yard (and you can have chickens and goats!!)
there are a lot of great musicians
a lot of young people
a lot of parks, one of which is full of roses, and it smells so good!
there are free boxes everywhere! (boxes with free things in them)
no sales tax
great farmers markets
vegan restaurants (not that i'm vegan)
unlike boulder(the yuppie town), there is a lot of diversity
a lot of people into different kinds of building, like cob and strawbale, which i want to learn
permaculture and urban farming
doesn't ever get too hot or too cold, although it is gray and rainy a lot
great beer and breweries
i will continue to tell you all the great things about portland as i learn about them.
and you are all welcome to come and visit and find out for yourself
i think i will be here for a long time
Thursday, July 10, 2008
The Small Town Kitty and the City Cat
Would it be strange to switch my blog from christy's adventures to Sebastian's adventures? Sebastian's the kitty of course. He's relaxing now on my friend Molly's nice red couch. It's been a long couple days. After maybe 4 years of easy, peaceful living on Pine Street...napping on the couch on the porch, napping on the other couch on the porch, hunting birds, roaming the block. 4 years, the same house. housemates would move out and move in, but someone always stayed the same. all of a sudden, july 8, 2008, girl puts cat in van and takes him 18 hours west to a big city. 75 miles per hour through day and night, in a loud diesel van, 2 nice strangers with their backpacks and instruments along for the ride. about halfway through, sebastian tries out a leash. how undignified, being treated like a dog... picked up and put down in the middle of nowhere, a rest area in the nevada desert, bleak, brown, no life but weary travelers and truckers, loud trucks drive down below on the highway, the only hiding place, some scrubby bushes next to the bathrooms. unfortunately, nothing private enough for a cat to relieve himself. you can put a leash on a cat, but you can't make him shit in front of everyone.
so the litter box in the van has to do.
sometimes the van stops, but the people don't get out. the first time, two nice kids get in with their big backpacks. they just want a ride down the highway to the next town, where they can hop on a train to get where we're going. one of the guys has a little white rat with him. sebastian's a little too upset to notice. the second time, another rainbow needs a ride as far down 80 as we can give him, so we take him all the way to san francisco. he loves the cat and washes the windshield.
nighttime on the highway is very stressful for a cat, looking out the window at all the lights, trucks passing by. finally a few hours to take a nap, the van silent and still, until the sun comes up, and then the last leg of the trip, reno to san francisco. where have we come? to this city with six lanes of cars and buses and motorcycles, no yards, not a place for a small town outdoor cat. into an apartment building, again this leash. first time in an elevator. up to the 6th floor, no jumping in and out of these windows. this indoor city cat is here. maggie's a nice kitty who likes to play. sebastian's a freaked out kitty who has no idea where the heck he is. slowly, sebastian relaxes and rests, and finds a way to coexist with this new kitty friend, if only by trying to ignore her. oh, and little does he know he will be leaving here in a few days for another new place, hopefully a quieter street in a smaller city, and luckily a little shorter ride in the van.
oh, to be a travelling cat!
Would it be strange to switch my blog from christy's adventures to Sebastian's adventures? Sebastian's the kitty of course. He's relaxing now on my friend Molly's nice red couch. It's been a long couple days. After maybe 4 years of easy, peaceful living on Pine Street...napping on the couch on the porch, napping on the other couch on the porch, hunting birds, roaming the block. 4 years, the same house. housemates would move out and move in, but someone always stayed the same. all of a sudden, july 8, 2008, girl puts cat in van and takes him 18 hours west to a big city. 75 miles per hour through day and night, in a loud diesel van, 2 nice strangers with their backpacks and instruments along for the ride. about halfway through, sebastian tries out a leash. how undignified, being treated like a dog... picked up and put down in the middle of nowhere, a rest area in the nevada desert, bleak, brown, no life but weary travelers and truckers, loud trucks drive down below on the highway, the only hiding place, some scrubby bushes next to the bathrooms. unfortunately, nothing private enough for a cat to relieve himself. you can put a leash on a cat, but you can't make him shit in front of everyone.
so the litter box in the van has to do.
sometimes the van stops, but the people don't get out. the first time, two nice kids get in with their big backpacks. they just want a ride down the highway to the next town, where they can hop on a train to get where we're going. one of the guys has a little white rat with him. sebastian's a little too upset to notice. the second time, another rainbow needs a ride as far down 80 as we can give him, so we take him all the way to san francisco. he loves the cat and washes the windshield.
nighttime on the highway is very stressful for a cat, looking out the window at all the lights, trucks passing by. finally a few hours to take a nap, the van silent and still, until the sun comes up, and then the last leg of the trip, reno to san francisco. where have we come? to this city with six lanes of cars and buses and motorcycles, no yards, not a place for a small town outdoor cat. into an apartment building, again this leash. first time in an elevator. up to the 6th floor, no jumping in and out of these windows. this indoor city cat is here. maggie's a nice kitty who likes to play. sebastian's a freaked out kitty who has no idea where the heck he is. slowly, sebastian relaxes and rests, and finds a way to coexist with this new kitty friend, if only by trying to ignore her. oh, and little does he know he will be leaving here in a few days for another new place, hopefully a quieter street in a smaller city, and luckily a little shorter ride in the van.
oh, to be a travelling cat!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
CHRISTY'S AMAZING DISHWASHING TOUR OF AMERICA!!!
hey all, sorry i've been such a slacker with this blog thing, but i am finally inspired to write you a little update on my adventures. (well, maybe it's not so little!)
So last time i wrote to you from Austin, Texas about my enlightening experience in New Orleans.
Oh, that seems so long ago. It's been a long 2 months, long in a great way!
Austin was hot and sweaty, but altogether a wonderful city. If I were going to live in Texas, I'd live there. There's a huge spring-fed pool right in the city, and it was refreshingly freezing cold on the hottest day of the year (so far). It was really easy to ride a bike around the town; there were lots of parks; and there is a lot of great music there. I stayed with my friend Julia (who i knew in Boulder) and ate a lot of breakfast tacos from the taco stand.
I made a stop for a few days in San Antonio where my grandparents, cousins, and aunt and uncle live. My cousin Steve was a great host, and even though i have to admit that San Antonio is one of the last places i could live (mostly because of all the driving and the sprawl), i had a great time with my family.
Then i made my way to Arkansas to see my dad and other grandmother and aunt and uncle. It was very relaxing and good to see that my family there are all doing really well.
After a few days in Arkansas, I made a beeline for northern Virginia. There is nothing like coming home (to my mom's house) after traveling, whether it's been one month or 8 months. I wouldn't want to travel any other way, but it would be a lie to say that it is not a little challenging and tiring to do what i do, constantly changing my surroundings, always a guest in somebody's home. Although i do believe i have become an expert in this field, i still love me some quiet, alone time to cook whatever food i want in my own (or my mom's own) kitchen, sleeping in as long as i want, not needing to coordinate my schedule with anyone else's.
So a few days at my mom's house recharged me. Then the true reason for coming back to Virginia was to go to my friends' wedding on the farm that i had worked on. It was a beautiful wedding under a tree in the cool spring evening, and then a great night of drinking and dancing with good friends, followed by a laid-back day of pond-swimming, pig roasting, and catching up with people. I also got to spend a couple days with my little friend Eoin, who is saying at least 5 times as many words as when i left him 2 months ago.
He and his mom, Georgia, and I drove up to New York City. I stayed with them in Georgia's parents' apartment on the Upper West Side, and then i drove up to Vermont to see a friend i had met in New Orleans. It was nice to need a sweater during the day in the lush Vermont mountains, and remember when i lived there almost ten years ago.
I then drove down to Rochester, New York to see my good friend Brit, who i also knew in Boulder. I spent a week there with her and her boyfriend, JP. We went hiking and swimming, watched movies, played Bananagrams (a speed scrabble game), ate yummy food, and saw some live music. I also took a short trip to Ithaca to see this place i had heard so much about. I did some camping and hiking there too.
Off to Chicago, to stay with my good old friend, Devin!, and his girlfriend Abby! for about a week. We did all kinds of fun things like going to the farmer's market, making a chair, watching "That Darn Cat!" (the original version, which i really recommend), going to the Contemporary Art museum, and eating a lot of rice and rice products :) I also took a little day trip up to Milwaukee to see my friend Mark, who i knew on the farm.
This brings me up to here and now, in Boulder, Colorado sitting on a couch in my old house, with Sebastian, the best kitty in the world. I've been here for a few days now, and it is so nice to be here! Sitting on my porch, riding my bike wherever i need to go, seeing old friends (although there aren't a lot left)... My old roommate, Amelia, is still here in this house, but not for long, as she is going to Africa in a week and a half. Then there will be nobody left in this house that i know.
In five days, my mom and i will be going to Hawaii, for a good friend's wedding. Then i will be driving to San Francisco to see some people, and then up to Portland, Oregon to find a job and a place to live. And it looks as though i'll be having a road buddy who will also be moving to Portland with me. I'll give you some hints: he's got thumbs, he takes a lot of naps, he's black, and white...need more? he's got whiskers and a big fluffy tail. Sebastian! the kitty! I know it's a little crazy, but since when have you known me to do things the normal way.
I'll try to write more often.
Also, thank you to everyone who's hosted me in the past few months and making me feel at home, and everyone who supports me in my adventuresome lifestyle.
Oh, and Go Obama!! You know one of the reasons I love Obama: he reminds me that a good president is one who inspires and motivates and gives the power to the people to make their country how they want it to be. And let me tell you, it is time for some change around here.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Culture Shock?
from new orleans, louisiana to austin, texas?
3 weeks in New Orleans.
The tourism industry wants you to think everything's just the way it's always been, back to normal, right? because then i can go to mardi gras and jazzfest and walk down bourbon street and have a great time. because no one wants to spend their vacation being depressed or thinking about things like death, destroyed homes, homelessness, children with post-traumatic stress disorder, etc...
But some people in the tourist industry have decided they are going to make a profit off of this disaster. They are driving tourists around in air conditioned buses, through the neighborhoods which were affected the worst by the flooding, where entire streets of houses are gone, nothing left but overgrown grass and the concrete slab that was the porch. People take pictures through the tinted windows, but do any of them get out and talk to the people who are still there, who either rebuilt their house, or were lucky to not have their house destroyed, or who are living in toxic trailers, or who are volunteers? no.
perhaps some of these people on these buses are affected enough by what they see to come down on their own and walk around and maybe talk to somebody (although I doubt it), or maybe they go online when they get home and look for how they can donate to an organization that is helping to rebuild. Hopefully most people at least tell people about what they saw. The biggest problem with this is not necessarily the people on the tourbus, but the bus drivers, or the people who run these companies. They are profiting off of people's misfortune. People should not support these companies. They should rent a car, or take a bus, and take a look for themselves. Get information from the residents or volunteers themselves, not the tour guides. And the money they would have given for the tourbus, they can give to common ground or habitat for humanity or one of the other organizations working down there.
On the brighter side, Common Ground Relief, the organization i was volunteering with, is only one of many groups doing everything they can to help the people trying to restore the lives they had. The residents are grateful to have so many people caring and helping them get back on their feet, even if it is just someone to come and cut their lawn (so they don't get fined by the city), or to plant flowers in their yard.
It is hard, though, when the city is doing almost nothing to help. And even once you move back, it's not the same. Because the lots on either side are not necessarily rebuilt.
All your neighbors that you've had your whole life are probably not there anymore. Drainage on your street is so bad that there are giant puddles for days after it rains, breeding mosquitoes.
Electrical wires are still fallen down.
There are no schools for your children. In the 9th Ward, there were 9 schools before Katrina. Now there is only 1.
Then there is always the thought in the back of your mind, did they rebuild those levees well?
Or are they gonna break again at the next storm?
How many times can i go through this?
This is truly a grassroots movement to rebuild New Orleans. Whatever gets done is by people who care. The government does not fail to provide reasons for people to need more help. For example, by the end of this summer, everyone is to be out of their trailers. It is nothing more than a deadline. No one is making sure that they have somewhere to move into once they move out of their trailers. It is all about image.
If you want to learn more about New Orleans post-katrina, you can look on the internet at all of the volunteer organizations. www.commongroundrelief.org
If you haven't seen the Spike Lee documentary, When The Levees Broke, you should see it. It is a good introduction. There are also other documentaries as well.
You can volunteer your time, donate items, or money.
The least you can do is to remember that there are many people still struggling, dealing with their lives being ripped apart, family and friends scattered all over the country and some of them dead, all of their possessions gone.
And if you ever go to New Orleans, at least talk to people. Listen to people's stories. Put yourself in their shoes.
Next time you vote for president, governor, mayor, anyone, think about what happened in New Orleans. What would this candidate do? Would they go on vacation while people die, show up 5 days later? Would they continue to spend all the money on a stupid war halfway across the world, instead of dealing with a tragedy happening to their own people in their own country?
Just think about it. That is what I am trying to do now. And that is where the culture shock comes in because I just spent 3 weeks constantly thinking about it, immersing myself in it, and now i find myself in a place where everything is business as usual. I am not saying it shouldn't be. But it is like coming back from a country where people are dying for lack of clean water or simple antibiotics. It's hard to figure out how to deal with the fact that some people have enough and some people don't. That is my goal to figure it out.
Solidarity Not Charity
from new orleans, louisiana to austin, texas?
3 weeks in New Orleans.
The tourism industry wants you to think everything's just the way it's always been, back to normal, right? because then i can go to mardi gras and jazzfest and walk down bourbon street and have a great time. because no one wants to spend their vacation being depressed or thinking about things like death, destroyed homes, homelessness, children with post-traumatic stress disorder, etc...
But some people in the tourist industry have decided they are going to make a profit off of this disaster. They are driving tourists around in air conditioned buses, through the neighborhoods which were affected the worst by the flooding, where entire streets of houses are gone, nothing left but overgrown grass and the concrete slab that was the porch. People take pictures through the tinted windows, but do any of them get out and talk to the people who are still there, who either rebuilt their house, or were lucky to not have their house destroyed, or who are living in toxic trailers, or who are volunteers? no.
perhaps some of these people on these buses are affected enough by what they see to come down on their own and walk around and maybe talk to somebody (although I doubt it), or maybe they go online when they get home and look for how they can donate to an organization that is helping to rebuild. Hopefully most people at least tell people about what they saw. The biggest problem with this is not necessarily the people on the tourbus, but the bus drivers, or the people who run these companies. They are profiting off of people's misfortune. People should not support these companies. They should rent a car, or take a bus, and take a look for themselves. Get information from the residents or volunteers themselves, not the tour guides. And the money they would have given for the tourbus, they can give to common ground or habitat for humanity or one of the other organizations working down there.
On the brighter side, Common Ground Relief, the organization i was volunteering with, is only one of many groups doing everything they can to help the people trying to restore the lives they had. The residents are grateful to have so many people caring and helping them get back on their feet, even if it is just someone to come and cut their lawn (so they don't get fined by the city), or to plant flowers in their yard.
It is hard, though, when the city is doing almost nothing to help. And even once you move back, it's not the same. Because the lots on either side are not necessarily rebuilt.
All your neighbors that you've had your whole life are probably not there anymore. Drainage on your street is so bad that there are giant puddles for days after it rains, breeding mosquitoes.
Electrical wires are still fallen down.
There are no schools for your children. In the 9th Ward, there were 9 schools before Katrina. Now there is only 1.
Then there is always the thought in the back of your mind, did they rebuild those levees well?
Or are they gonna break again at the next storm?
How many times can i go through this?
This is truly a grassroots movement to rebuild New Orleans. Whatever gets done is by people who care. The government does not fail to provide reasons for people to need more help. For example, by the end of this summer, everyone is to be out of their trailers. It is nothing more than a deadline. No one is making sure that they have somewhere to move into once they move out of their trailers. It is all about image.
If you want to learn more about New Orleans post-katrina, you can look on the internet at all of the volunteer organizations. www.commongroundrelief.org
If you haven't seen the Spike Lee documentary, When The Levees Broke, you should see it. It is a good introduction. There are also other documentaries as well.
You can volunteer your time, donate items, or money.
The least you can do is to remember that there are many people still struggling, dealing with their lives being ripped apart, family and friends scattered all over the country and some of them dead, all of their possessions gone.
And if you ever go to New Orleans, at least talk to people. Listen to people's stories. Put yourself in their shoes.
Next time you vote for president, governor, mayor, anyone, think about what happened in New Orleans. What would this candidate do? Would they go on vacation while people die, show up 5 days later? Would they continue to spend all the money on a stupid war halfway across the world, instead of dealing with a tragedy happening to their own people in their own country?
Just think about it. That is what I am trying to do now. And that is where the culture shock comes in because I just spent 3 weeks constantly thinking about it, immersing myself in it, and now i find myself in a place where everything is business as usual. I am not saying it shouldn't be. But it is like coming back from a country where people are dying for lack of clean water or simple antibiotics. It's hard to figure out how to deal with the fact that some people have enough and some people don't. That is my goal to figure it out.
Solidarity Not Charity
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Date: April 7th, 2008
Location: Atlanta, Georgia
Route taken so far:
**Left Mom's house in Arlington, VA for Takoma Park (MD) Co-op
**1st stop: Waterpenny Farm in Sperryville, VA
stayed with farm friend Lea that night, up on a mountain in a little cabin
**next morning: took Skyline Drive to Harrisonburg, VA
stayed with more farm friends, Teal and Peter
saw Accordion Death Squad that night, a fun band from Charlottesville
**Day 3: checked out Charlottesville, just for the heck of it, reminded me of Boulder a little with it's downtown pedestrian mall where hippies play music and there are plenty of used bookstores and coffeeshops
**Then off to Staunton since Katie at waterpenny had told me about the shakespeare company there. Macbeth was sold out, so i saw a good local bluegrass band at a pizza place instead: The Hounddog Hill Boys. Definitely dancable.
tested out my bed and curtains, slept in my van parked on the street. totally cozy.
**Day 4: rain starts. i head down south to Floyd, Virginia, a small town where hippies and oldtimers live in peace together. They have a small natural food store called Green's Garage, where people buy groceries and leave their payment in an envelope. There is no cashier; everyone is on the honor system. And it works! It is such a small town. And I had my first true couchsurfing experience. I stayed with a couple, Liz and Sam, for a night. We played scrabble and watched The Hoax, a good movie.
**Day 5: still raining. The original plan was to go camping, but not in this weather, so i went straight to Asheville, North Carolina, where my good friend, Sarah, lives and offered to let me stay with her for the week until after her birthday party.
**Re-explored Asheville, ("re-" because I have lived there briefly before)... what a beautiful town with mountains and hippies and good beer. I had a great time, but I don't think i will live there. It was on my list of possible places to live.
**Yesterday, lazed around, recovering from sarah's birthday party, helped sarah lose and find her dog, and then drove the 4 hours to atlanta to my friend bianca's house.
And let me just do a little ranting now.
Before I even left northern virginia, i had a strange experience involving my van.
I sat in my van parked in my mom's neighborhood(formerly my neighborhood), sewing little velcro squares onto the curtains my mother helped me make. She even ironed them for me. Thanks Mom! So I look up from sewing, and I see 3 police officers, knocking on my back door. Oh, visitors, but the place is such a mess. I open up the door, show them my id, and tell them of my plans to drive across the country. They are really friendly, saying they just had a call about a suspicious van parked in the neighborhood. Thanks cops for realizing that a girl sitting in her van, sewing, in the middle of the day, in her own neighborhood, is not against the law or anything to worry about.
A couple hours later, I am finished with my curtains. This van is really starting to look like something I can live out of for the next few months. "Excuse me, miss" I turn around and see a woman arriving home from her day at the office. She wants to know if I live here. I tell her yes, and she tells me very politely that she and whoever else she means by "we" just start wondering a little when they see a vehicle they've never seen before in their neighborhood, and that she's seen a gentleman going in and out of it at night (i hope not!! ...well, unless he was cute, was he cute?). Anyway, i tell her people get new cars all the time and i've already talked to the police, and she says "okay, it's just a little weird, you know?" I was as polite as I could be although I was thinking all kinds of things, like what would she think if the tables were turned, and i were asking her if she lived here.
Well, at least i got that over with...oh. but no. what's this? on my windshield the next morning? not a ticket, i hope. a ticket for what? nope. not a ticket. it's an anonymous note. my first visitors, and my first mail, all in the same 24-hour period. lucky me! The note read: You should probably move your van to another neighborhood. oooohhh! i was so mad! And there was no one to respond to. All of a sudden, i had visions of putting up security cameras on my van. I wanted to scream. Instead, I went into my mom's house, pacing, furious, and decided to write a note to put up in the window of my van, saying how i have lived in this neighborhood since i was 8 years old, and i will not be moving my van, please just let me be. Then I left a couple days later. No resolution. Just have to let it go.
When I tell some people this story, they remind me of the sniper in DC, and didn't he have a white van? But wasn't that years ago? I think people are letting their fear take over their brains. Either fear or intolerance and closed-mindedness. I watched how their fear bred more fear into me. I started looking at people as they walked their dog or with their children, wondering, are these the jerks trying to scare me away from their "safe" neighborhood? and what would i say to them if it was? but i'm usually the kind of person who smiles at strangers and says hello. so now i will continue to smile and say hello to people when i pass them on the sidewalk. I refuse to be part of the culture of fear.
Pictures will come later.
Location: Atlanta, Georgia
Route taken so far:
**Left Mom's house in Arlington, VA for Takoma Park (MD) Co-op
**1st stop: Waterpenny Farm in Sperryville, VA
stayed with farm friend Lea that night, up on a mountain in a little cabin
**next morning: took Skyline Drive to Harrisonburg, VA
stayed with more farm friends, Teal and Peter
saw Accordion Death Squad that night, a fun band from Charlottesville
**Day 3: checked out Charlottesville, just for the heck of it, reminded me of Boulder a little with it's downtown pedestrian mall where hippies play music and there are plenty of used bookstores and coffeeshops
**Then off to Staunton since Katie at waterpenny had told me about the shakespeare company there. Macbeth was sold out, so i saw a good local bluegrass band at a pizza place instead: The Hounddog Hill Boys. Definitely dancable.
tested out my bed and curtains, slept in my van parked on the street. totally cozy.
**Day 4: rain starts. i head down south to Floyd, Virginia, a small town where hippies and oldtimers live in peace together. They have a small natural food store called Green's Garage, where people buy groceries and leave their payment in an envelope. There is no cashier; everyone is on the honor system. And it works! It is such a small town. And I had my first true couchsurfing experience. I stayed with a couple, Liz and Sam, for a night. We played scrabble and watched The Hoax, a good movie.
**Day 5: still raining. The original plan was to go camping, but not in this weather, so i went straight to Asheville, North Carolina, where my good friend, Sarah, lives and offered to let me stay with her for the week until after her birthday party.
**Re-explored Asheville, ("re-" because I have lived there briefly before)... what a beautiful town with mountains and hippies and good beer. I had a great time, but I don't think i will live there. It was on my list of possible places to live.
**Yesterday, lazed around, recovering from sarah's birthday party, helped sarah lose and find her dog, and then drove the 4 hours to atlanta to my friend bianca's house.
And let me just do a little ranting now.
Before I even left northern virginia, i had a strange experience involving my van.
I sat in my van parked in my mom's neighborhood(formerly my neighborhood), sewing little velcro squares onto the curtains my mother helped me make. She even ironed them for me. Thanks Mom! So I look up from sewing, and I see 3 police officers, knocking on my back door. Oh, visitors, but the place is such a mess. I open up the door, show them my id, and tell them of my plans to drive across the country. They are really friendly, saying they just had a call about a suspicious van parked in the neighborhood. Thanks cops for realizing that a girl sitting in her van, sewing, in the middle of the day, in her own neighborhood, is not against the law or anything to worry about.
A couple hours later, I am finished with my curtains. This van is really starting to look like something I can live out of for the next few months. "Excuse me, miss" I turn around and see a woman arriving home from her day at the office. She wants to know if I live here. I tell her yes, and she tells me very politely that she and whoever else she means by "we" just start wondering a little when they see a vehicle they've never seen before in their neighborhood, and that she's seen a gentleman going in and out of it at night (i hope not!! ...well, unless he was cute, was he cute?). Anyway, i tell her people get new cars all the time and i've already talked to the police, and she says "okay, it's just a little weird, you know?" I was as polite as I could be although I was thinking all kinds of things, like what would she think if the tables were turned, and i were asking her if she lived here.
Well, at least i got that over with...oh. but no. what's this? on my windshield the next morning? not a ticket, i hope. a ticket for what? nope. not a ticket. it's an anonymous note. my first visitors, and my first mail, all in the same 24-hour period. lucky me! The note read: You should probably move your van to another neighborhood. oooohhh! i was so mad! And there was no one to respond to. All of a sudden, i had visions of putting up security cameras on my van. I wanted to scream. Instead, I went into my mom's house, pacing, furious, and decided to write a note to put up in the window of my van, saying how i have lived in this neighborhood since i was 8 years old, and i will not be moving my van, please just let me be. Then I left a couple days later. No resolution. Just have to let it go.
When I tell some people this story, they remind me of the sniper in DC, and didn't he have a white van? But wasn't that years ago? I think people are letting their fear take over their brains. Either fear or intolerance and closed-mindedness. I watched how their fear bred more fear into me. I started looking at people as they walked their dog or with their children, wondering, are these the jerks trying to scare me away from their "safe" neighborhood? and what would i say to them if it was? but i'm usually the kind of person who smiles at strangers and says hello. so now i will continue to smile and say hello to people when i pass them on the sidewalk. I refuse to be part of the culture of fear.
Pictures will come later.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
okay, everyone!
get ready
i'm getting ready
for another adventure
i got a new van, a new haircut, and a new bike, tent, camping stove, etc...
i'm movin into my new house.
on wheels
a rolling turtle.
coming to your town
unless i don't know where you live,
in which case you should let me know,
and i'll add you to the itinerary.
start checking in here every week because i'm gonna be doing my best to document this voyage
this is what i would have done right when i got back from europe almost a year ago, if i had not had very large credit card bills, and instead had a van.
well, now i have positive account balance, and my very own iron monstrosity (a term of endearment that comes from the good ole days)
for the purpose of this trip is to see all of my loved ones as well as lovable unknown ones, and find a place to live.
a good friend once told me (when i was on my way to europe) that most people don't move out of their house when they go on vacation.
well, i suppose anyone who's known me for at least an hour, knows that i do not fit into the category of "most people"
most people's first vehicle is not a 15 passenger van that they convert into their home
most people don't move without knowing where they're moving to
most people....
i could probably write 50 of these but i might alienate myself.
so we'll just conclude that i love unconventional travel. and after travelling, i miss people, and i want to see them...
see them all...
see them all now...
so here i go
i also look forward to finding a home, which will surely be an unconventional home, you probably could have guessed.
by the end of this coming fall, i will have found that home, and some kind of unconventional job, and begin to dream of the garden i will plant in the spring, and start to do all the things you can do when you stay somewhere, and that will be another adventure all in itself, until then
the open road!
see you soon!
get ready
i'm getting ready
for another adventure
i got a new van, a new haircut, and a new bike, tent, camping stove, etc...
i'm movin into my new house.
on wheels
a rolling turtle.
coming to your town
unless i don't know where you live,
in which case you should let me know,
and i'll add you to the itinerary.
start checking in here every week because i'm gonna be doing my best to document this voyage
this is what i would have done right when i got back from europe almost a year ago, if i had not had very large credit card bills, and instead had a van.
well, now i have positive account balance, and my very own iron monstrosity (a term of endearment that comes from the good ole days)
for the purpose of this trip is to see all of my loved ones as well as lovable unknown ones, and find a place to live.
a good friend once told me (when i was on my way to europe) that most people don't move out of their house when they go on vacation.
well, i suppose anyone who's known me for at least an hour, knows that i do not fit into the category of "most people"
most people's first vehicle is not a 15 passenger van that they convert into their home
most people don't move without knowing where they're moving to
most people....
i could probably write 50 of these but i might alienate myself.
so we'll just conclude that i love unconventional travel. and after travelling, i miss people, and i want to see them...
see them all...
see them all now...
so here i go
i also look forward to finding a home, which will surely be an unconventional home, you probably could have guessed.
by the end of this coming fall, i will have found that home, and some kind of unconventional job, and begin to dream of the garden i will plant in the spring, and start to do all the things you can do when you stay somewhere, and that will be another adventure all in itself, until then
the open road!
see you soon!
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