Guerilla Historical Society

I've tried guerilla gardening on Pulaski and LeMoyne and my plants were stolen. Next up, Guerilla Historical Society. I have gone underground, since no one was interested, and I have been collecting historical photos and information about my neighborhood of North/Pulaski in Chicago. So far I have procured about ten photos ranging from 1900-1973. I'm a preservationist in a neighborhood that doesn't know or doesn't care that it needs to be preserved, so I am alone. I plan to strike in the next year, by informing residents, by any means possible, about the history of our neighborhood and the need to preserve the collective memory of this space and place. If you care to join me in the revolution, I will be staging my first installation soon.

My Final Resting Place

Today I went out with my dad on a self guided tour of our beloved town. I had tried to make a customized tour based on a theme my dad gave me. He wanted to visit old mansions of famous Chicagoans. That took us to the South Loop and Prarie Avenue. We tried getting into the Clarke House, the oldest structure in Chicago, and the Glessener Mansion Museum, but when we got there the tours were booked for the next two hours. The tour took on more of a final resting place theme.

We happened upon the site of the Fort Dearborn Massacre, we visited the tomb of Stephen A. Douglas,the famous orator and Senator form Illinois, saw the site of the Camp Douglas prison camp,the final resting place of many Confederate POW's, we ate in Chinatown, and ended up touring the grounds of Graceland Cemetery.

It was a treat trying to find the tombstones and mausoleums of Carter Harrison, Daniel Burnham, Mies Van der Rohe, Potter Palmer, Marshall Field, Cyrus McCormick, John Kinzie, Joseph Medill, Joseph Armour, and other founding fathers of our city.

My father kept saying what a special day he had with me, and there is nothing better that stumbling upon places you've seen in pictures, in photos, or read about in books, and seeing them and experiencing them in real life. The day turned out to be unexpected, the best kind of day.

In all of the joy of our discoveries, I came to a decision that I wanted to be buried in Graceland Cemetery among the people that fostered the development of this city I call home.

I think of my grandfather, who is coming close to his last days, even though it probably makes practical sense to bury him wherever he dies, whether he finds himself near family in Chicago or Orlando, his insistence that he be buried in Puerto Rico, where he was born, forced a move back to his hometown of Mayaguez, PR so that it was assured that he is remembered forever in the place that holds so much meaning in his heart.

I hope that I will be able to do the same, I literally and figuratively want to put down roots where I will not be forgotten. I am planning to live in Chicago for the rest of my life, but I hope wherever I find myself from here on out, that my family will honor my wishes to be buried in the sweet sandy, clay soil of Chicago. Maybe in Graceland Cemetery.

True Chicagoans Pay For Parking Now

Yes it is true, I now have to pay for parking downtown. I can't get away from it. I think Katie and I have funded the municipal pension fund through our numerous parking tickets. Daley, you and your alderman have beaten us, the common Chicagoan, down with your schemes to make more money. We submit, we will have pay for parking downtown, no way around it.

Ice Skating

Yesterday I went ice skating with Liam. We tried Millenium Park but the line was 45 minutes long to get skates. Thank God I remembered that nine parks around the city have skating, it just so happens that just two block east, the park at Richard J. Daley Bicentennial Plaza has a rink. Just a 5 minute wait for skates. Getting them on a 3 year old is a different story. That took about 20 minutes.
We had one of the most memorable times this break. Liam loved skating and slipping while I held him up by his shoulders. The skyline looked stunning. On a way back we found one of the best shots of the skyline I have seen in a long time. If you can, check out the bridge over the Ashland EL stop on the Green Line.

Ft. Hood Massacre

One of the stories coming out of this tragedy is the murder of a 21 year old soldier that was three months pregnant. Turns out she lived three blocks away from our house on Kamerling. Sad.Pray for her family.

Nate's B-Day Tour

Today's Itinerary:

1. Holy Trinity Orthodox Cathedral and Rectory

Designed to resemble the Russian provincial churches known to its first parishioners, this elegant church is an unexpected feature of its neighborhood. Even more surprising is the fact that its construction was partially paid for by Russian Czar Nicholas II. The walls of the church are load-bearing brick covered with stucco; the detailing of the two-story rectory repeats the same sinuous curve found in the roofline of the church. The ideologies held by the client and the designer harmonized well in this project, producing one of the most-inspired, small-scale works of influential architect Louis Sullivan.

Ukrainian Catholic Church

Ukrainian Orthodox Church-Closed didn't go in.

Ate lunch at Mr. Beef on Orleans

2. First Baptist Congregational Church

Address: 60 N. Ashland Ave.
Year Built: 1871
Architect: Gurdon P. Randall

Social activism has characterized this congregation since its founding in 1851 by abolitionists. The innovative, amphitheater-style auditorium within this Gothic Revival-style building was widely influential in church architecture. The adjacent Carpenter Chapel was designed by Otis Wheelock and built in 1869 for the Chicago Theological Seminary. Closed, didn't go.

Stockyards Gate

Bubbly Creek

Pope’s Visit - Five Holy Martyrs Church 4327 S. Richmond St - Couldn't find it.

Englewood

Pullman District 11141 South Cottage Grove Avenue

In 1880, George Pullman commissioned architect Solon S. Beman to design the perfect industrial town, a landscaped haven complete with indoor plumbing and gas facilities. However, his utopia did not last. When an economic panic hit, Pullman had to reduce his workers' hours and wages, causing a bloody strike (the first organized one in U.S, history) to erupt in 1894. Today, much of the town remains intact, although a recent fire gutted one of its main buildings. This is a must-see for anyone with an interest in urban histories, planning or the workers' movement in America. You can wander around Pullman any time, but it is best seen on one of a variety of tours offered throughout the year. Awesome.

3. K.A.M. Isaiah Israel Temple

Address: 1100 E. Hyde Park Blvd.
Year Built: 1924, addition, 1926
Architect: Alfred S. Alschuler

This building, based on Byzantine-style design precedents, houses the oldest Jewish congregation in Chicago. The first Jewish settlers in the city organized Kehilath Anshe Maariv in 1847; Isaiah Israel had its roots in the city's second Jewish congregation, which was founded in 1852. In 1971, the two merged to form K.A.M. Isaiah Israel Temple.

Obama’s House-

5046 S Greenwood Ave

Chicago, IL 60615- Secret service kicked us off the sidewalk. Got to see Obama's house briefly.

Nation of Islam- Louis Farrakhan’s house

4855 S Woodlawn Ave

Get Directions

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Category:

Unverified listing

Kenwood District, Oakland District- Farrakhan wasn't home

4. Pilgrim Baptist Church

Address: 3301 S. Indiana Ave.r
Year Built: 1890-1891
Architect: Adler & Sullivan

The decorative and planning skills of architect Louis H. Sullivan, along with the engineering abilities of Dankmar Adler, are embodied in the strong masonry forms of this building, which is embellished with terra-cotta panels of intricate foliage designs. The dramatic interior of the church contains similar ornament. Built as Kehilath Anshe Ma' ariv synagogue, the building has housed the Pilgrim Baptist Church since 1922. During the 1930s, this congregation and its longtime music director, Thomas A. Dorsey, were instrumental in the development of gospel music. Among those who sang here were: Mahalia Jackson, Sallie Martin, James Cleveland, and the Edwin Hawkins Singers. Destroyed in a fire.

4. Quinn Chapel

Address: 2401 S. Wabash Ave.
Year Built: 1892
Architect: Henry F. Starbuck

This church houses Chicago's oldest African-American congregation, which traces its origins back to 1844, when seven individuals formed a nondenominational prayer group that met in the house of one of its members. In 1847, the group organized as a congregation of the African Methodist Episcopal Church. Named for Bishop William P. Quinn, the church played an important role in the city's abolitionist movement. After the Chicago Fire of 1871 destroyed the original church, the congregation met for many years in temporary locations. The congregation purchased the present site in 1890, and the current church is a reminder of the late-19th century character of the area. Didn't go.

6. Second Presbyterian Church

Address: 1936 S. Michigan Ave.
Year Built: 1874, reconstructed in 1900
Architects: Howard Van Doren Shaw,James Renwick

When this Gothic Revival-style church was designed--by a prominent New York architect-- the surrounding streets, including Prairie Avenue, one block east, were lined with the homes of wealthy Chicagoans. Members of the congregation included the Glessners, the Pullmans, and the widow of President Abraham Lincoln. The interior decorations include stained-glass windows by Louis Comfort Tiffany. A fire in 1900 destroyed much of the church, but it was reconstructed under the supervision of architect Howard Van Doren Shaw. Didn't go

Douglas Blvd.- Saw old Synagogues turned Baptist churches

Homan Sqaure- Saw the original Sears Tower

Rio wins the Olympics

I knew Rio was going to win. That South America has never had a Olympics sceeemed to seemed to be a convincing argument. As much as am happy that Daley didn't get his Olympics, and that he will come back to Chicago with a rare defeat, and have to face the voters in 2011, I am sorta disappointed that we didn't get to showcase our beautiful city to the world and finally rid our city of an international reputation of a city of tommy-gun toting gangsters, the home of Micheal Jordan's restaurant, and Jerry Springer.

Rock Starr

Tomorrow I am going to play Rock Band: Beatles

U2

Just went to a U2 concert at Soldier Field with Ryan Steingard. It was awesome. Elevation, Vertigo, Beautiful Day, Where the Streets Have No Name, With Or Without You, awesome live. Only have been to three in my life before, Ringo Starr and his All-Starr band, They Might Be Giants, and Jurassic 5. This was the biggest concert I've ever been to in my life.

This is......

Today was a great day. I went running at the lake, came home, prayed at church; the sun was shining through the stained glass, cam home cleaned the block and alley with a motley crew of neighbors, harangued local businesses, in English and Spanish, for not cleaning up their dumpster areas, built a storage shelf, hung out with my beautiful Ava, walked around the block with her, came back, took Liam with me to Land of Nod to buy Ava a teether, went to Trader Joe's, Liam did all of the shopping in his mini cart, went to Costco bought some diapers and wipes, drove home, ate enchiladas, gave Li a bath, read him stories, put him to bed, ate brownies at Beth and Charlie's downstairs, read online news articles, watched the movie trailer for Black Dynamite, began writing this blog.

The big news though is that I found some books that will add to my eventual book, that I haven't written yet, called Urban Imagery: For Kids. Sorta an urban planning and visual arts guide for parents that want to expose their kids in all things urban. So at Land of Nod, a yuppie kids store, I found a whole bunch of books written and illustrated by a Czech artist named Miroslav Sasek. He published very unique children's books under the name, This is......, that guide them through major urban centers of the world. Each one captures the hustle and bustle of each city at a certain moment in time, the sixties, and matches it with whimsical, stylized, comical, water colored illustrations. Check for yourself. Beautiful artwork.

Save the Pioneer Bank

Our nieghborhood is a former bright light aka theater district, and major trolley line stop. North Avenue/Pulaski Avenue, formerly North/Crawford was home at least five major theaters, hotels, restaurants, and bars, in addition to many mom and pop stores catering to locals, and still does today. The shopping district from Pulaski Rd. to Grand Avenue retains a largeley unbroken True Chicago urban streetscape, while one of the major theaters, the Tiffin, has been demolished, the five story Pioneer Savings and Trust Bank on the northeast corner of North and Pulaski remains a major landmark. Although it is a landmark in a spatial sense, it is not designated a landmark formally. It was nominated last year, but for purely pragmatic reasons, it probably will be difficult to market if strict landmark rules are applied to the building, negotiations between the landmark commission and the developer who owns the property have broken down. My guess is that developer generically develop into condos, however if they took a pulse of the community, they might find that people want to preserve our built history and maybe a library or community arts center can make use of a landmarked building. Anyone interested in preserving the built environment of the North Pulaski area can contact me at wsmilj1@gmail.com or call 637-2781 0r 794-3095.

Restorative Justice

"Restorative Justice is a philosophy that seeks to bring together all of the stakeholders (victim, offender, and community) to work together to address the harms and needs of those affected by a harm. Restorative Justice also seeks to engage the community in the process and to give a voice to the victim."

There is a block club here on this block. I am the president of the club, the 2nd. We are part of a greater network of block clubs called The Block Club Federation. The people in our house moved in five years ago, the following spring our neighbor Maria, the former block president, approached us to organize the block club. It happened, Dave became the 1st president and we began working on creating block clean-ups, consistent meetings, tree plantings, an annual block party, a tutoring center, a mural, speed bumps, new sidewalks and curbs, Halloween and Christmas Parties, backyard movies, Ladies Time Out, barbeque's, football and basketball leagues. We've organized for new streets, against prostitutes and johns leaving their used condoms in our grass, heroin users carelessly leaving their used needles in our childrens' play areas, we've fought for greater police presence, and have built partnerships with the alderman and other organizations to create a better community. It has come rather fluid and organically and without pomp and circumstance. We're just a bunch of neighbors that have coalesced as friends under a greater purpose, of creating a safe place to live for our kids and provide a forum for people to express whatever they want about improving our community and building on the assets we already have here.

It all sounds great but it has at times been tedious, depressing, slow, discouraging, confusing, seemingly worthless. Really we're part of something bigger than us individually, but individualistically speaking, it's taken a toll. But, we take this seriously. We are cognizant that building community, organizing a community, and doing community is hard work. You feel a responsibility to be involved in all the action on the block. Sometimes it can be unhealthy psychologically and emotionally. We've had to persevere through racism, classism, and claims of elitism, that we've used our power to undermine the staus quo of the hood. Some have claimed " passive-aggressive white take over", others have equated the community building as " Hernando Cortez overthrowing the Aztecs." However, nothing has been so trying as negotiating with our new neighbors for peace and quiet. It has been an undertaking of massive proportions and a masterful finesse of street negotiation and formal round table discussions that our block and our next door neighbors have come to an understanding of what our block stands for and what is acceptable and not acceptable here on Keystone. While some here had the power to "make the problem go away", we decided as neighbors to invite the next door neighbors to the block club meetings, so that we could air our concerns and they could speak for themselves.

In the initial meetings people either didn't speak up or they brought up generalities about problems on our block. We all agreed that when we saw people from other blocks, gang bangers, or randoms we weren't familiar with on our next door neighbors porch we'd talk to our neighbors directly. That didnt work. Young people, sometimes upwards of 25, would not listen to the adults, and the problem persisted. The next meeting we were directed to call the police. That didn't work. Soon more kids were coming around. Gangbangers started recruiting some of them, two guys set up shop selling weed down the block, next door was ground zero for customers and the hang out where adults couldn't intervene successfully.

We had another meeting. The voices in the club started getting louder, accustations became more pointed. So we attempted to address the situation by contacting the landlord. That created days of peace, then, like kids who start trouble when they think no one is looking, the problems began in earnest. Which led to more calls to the landlord, calls to the police, etc.

The last draw was this past meeting, last month, it was advertised a week prior, and come the day of the meeting, the victims ( the block) came out en masse, the offenders( our next door neighbors) brought an advocate to speak, to defend their side of the story and air out grievances about people calling the cops, their landlord, and (rumored) alderman about their house. At first, their advocate acted as if we had it out for them. Five people piped up at the same time and defended the actions of the block, and indicated that it was our next door neighbors that gave us the action steps to take if they were screaming at the top of their lungs until 3 am, or if 25 random kids were tearing up the block, smashing car windows or tagging up our community mural. It was the block members that called out the parents of the kids from next door to step up and be parents, if they too, really wanted the problems, that stemmed from their house, to stop, then they needed to step up. Seemed kinda harsh, but for all the negative attention that was put on our next door neighbors, I think they got to finally hear and believe all that the block has been implying for the past couple months. " We've got values and norms on this block, and either your with us or against us. And if your against us, we're organized, and your going to have a lot of heat applied to you, and if you don't like it, well, buy in to what's established here or leave." And I think we heard what they have been implying, "It's hard for us to change things so fast, we ain't use to a block that is organized, we're use to getting buck wild, so it's gunna take some time. So quit calling the police every single move we make". The community spoke, the community heard each other, things have gotten better. As many of the stakeholders as we could get were at the table negotiating how to live together on the block, peacefully. Rich, poor, white, black, Latino, old, young, renters, owners, unemployed, employed, trying to be neighbors. We've grown as a block. This is my example of, though not perfect, actually, ugly and dirrrty, restorative justice.

Reading Rainbo

I'm rereading The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros so that I can read it to my students this coming school year. The house on Mango street was not a real house or in a real neighborhood in Chicago, but a mishmash of ideas, feelings, and impressions Cisneros had living on streets near here; Keeler, Campbell, Loomis, Wabansia, Paulina, as well as stories her students told here while teaching in Pilsen. Personally, I love this book. I can sit all day and try and express the feel of my neighborhood good and bad, in poetic, romantic ways, but it is not nearly as striking as the rich tapestry of emotions, experiences, and imagery that Cisneros weaves throughout the book. Check it out.

That's What I Talkin' bout

Nothing like good old community development to get the blood stirrin. Woke up at 7:30, solicited commitments from key players on Karlov to watch over their new sidewalks so that no one steps on or scribbles their names on the wet cement. Got the graffiti busters to bust the right graffiti on the street. Went with Liam to the alderman's office, got our donations for the block party, gossiped with the chief of staff about city politics, went to neighborhood businesses and got more donations. Went to Katie's grandma's house. Came back home, got a call from the alderman's office confirming that the CAPS meeting with the police was going to happen in the Jimenez Grocery parking lot and if it rained that it would happen at the Defenders of Christ Church on Wabansia and Tripp instead. Got a call from Angel, he moaned and groaned about some random guy trying to befriend him and embezzle $70 from him. Tried to empower Angel to speak up for himself and come and report the guy at the CAPS meeting. Told him to meet me at 6:40 to leave. Went back and forth, guess the Sox game was more important than his safety. Hung out with Eric and Emily. Our kids trashed their apartment. Went downstairs, called Ramon, asked if he wanted to come to the CAPS meeting, he say OK, ate, kissed Katie and kids goodbye. Go to Jimenez, no meeting, go to DOC Church, cops cant get in, meeting is outside, people talk about all the shootings near Nixon school, flashers on the Fullerton Metra tracks, a crazy kid on Kedvale threatening old people with a gun and intentionally shooting at ladies to strike fear in their hearts. Asked questions about local gang territory and graffiti, reported drug dealers on our block. Dave asks about the boy who was trying to steal his kids' bike, that he caught and detained, and why the cops never followed up with him about whether they caught the other accomplices. The cops say after they took the boy away, the officers' SUV lost it's brakes and smashed into a car of an uninsured woman, on Cicero. No one was hurt, but the boys face was smashed into the window that separates those in custody and the officers, that is why they didn't get back to Dave. Dave is satisfied with their answer.
Leave the CAPS meeting with Ramon, drive him home, decide to stop in the 2010 Budget Meeting at Falconer Elementary to hear other community activists praise, argue, petition, berate, and vision cast. See more city workers, politicians, and their cronys than actualer concerned city residents. Talk to my alderman and the police district commander about the CAPS meeting they are pleased at the turnout. Watch a man go off about the Jefferson Park TIF district, its misuse, and how one developer has created blight along Milwaukee and Lawrence, see Mayor Daley rub his eyes, get up and leave to take a pee break while people rant, don't think they know he left. I leave myself, to take a pee break, Daley is out there schmoosing, taking pictures, joking with city workers. Watch from the side, love the theater of the whole thing. Sit down, talk to a Streets and Sans woman. Give a play by play of Daley's actions. Laugh. Sneak into some photo ops. Write down our neighborhood budget requests, grab some swag, leave. On the way out meet guys from Six Corners/ Portage Park working to get a Metra Station near Cicero and Irving, make some connections, get a card, leave, satisfied with my day.

I Can Do Bad All By Myself

I love Tyler Perry movies. Just saw a new trailer for his new movie. Madea gunna shank sombody.

Salvage someOne

Scene 1: 11:00, second floor Salvage One, Chicago,Illinois.

Bill: (Cell rings) Hello?

Henry: Bill I need you to pick me up?

Bill: Who is this?

Henry: It's me Henry, it's to hard, I cant do this, I need you to pick me up.

Bill: Henry, I paid for you to stay, it's non-refundable.

Henryr: I know, I'm sorry.

Bill: Henry, you have nowhere to go, this is your last chance, there is nothing we can do; you can only go back to the street. Henry, this is supposed to be hard, you need to stay, its good for you, you need something that is hard. You gotta stick it out, it's gonna be difficult.

Henry: It's too much, I'm leaving can you pick me up?

Bill: I can't now, I'm by downtown, I've got my niece and nephew and Liam. Stay there, I'll pick you up later.

Henry: No that's ok, I'm leaving,.......bye Bill. (click)


Bill calls Katie, no answer. He then calls Teen Challenge.


Bill: Is my friend Henry Roman there?

Teen Challenge: We tried to talk him out of leaving.

Bill: Is he there?

Teen Challenge: He just left.

Savior Complex

These past few days have been a whirlwind.

Wednesday
At night Henry shows up at my door to say hi. He attempted to get his wife to let him back in, it aint happening, no place to live. So he asks me to drive him to St. Mary's on Division so he could spend some time in the hospital, they'll take care of him. Two hours later, he shows up again, no place to live, doesn't want to live on the street, so I decide to let him sleep in the basement guest room. I told him he could leave out the back door so he could find arrangements for shelter the next day.

Thursday
Come home from Men's Group. Eat breakfast with Katie and kids, go down to pick up laundry. Smells like freshly taken shower. Henry says he had the best sleep in a long time, and that he cleaned up. Wants to know what I am doing today, I tell him I have to go to Higgins, my rental building, and do some work, he asks if he could tag along. I agree, with some trepadation, I was supposed to work with my dad, you see mixing my two worlds can be problematic at times, hard to explain, but just to say my dad likes to work alone, and having Henry in the mix could create situations where I have to negotiate around.

Everything went fine. My dad worked alone mostly, Henry tried to bum a cigarette off my dad, he said no. Awkward situation. I tell my dad Hector is without a place to live. My dad feels bad, offers a smoke to Henry. They both smoke inside the building. I kick them out. They come back, I offer my dad the opportunity for me to buy him materials while he stays back to work, alone, he agrees but tells me to take Henry he doesnt want to babysit him. I shusk him, but oblige.
Hector and I go to Russo Hardware get everything we need in one shot. Come back, my dad wants lunch so he leaves. We work on fixing doorknobs, dad comes back, we leave. Decide to drive to IKEA and get lunch in Schaumburg. Hector has never been to Schaumburg. Likes IKEA, likens it to a fancy Cook Bros. ( Ghetto Costco). We leave, go to Portillos, see a lady taking wads of cash and a portible credit card machine, Henry is impressed, creates an imaginary scenario of the lady being in the city, getting stuck, and someone taking the cash and machine. Get back on expressway, listen to a CD of indie music, Henry says he'sfalling to sleep and needs something he can wake up to. Put in a Pearl Jam CD and karaoke Alive, Jeremy, Evenflow, while driving and eating an Italian Beef sandwhich. Take I-294 to I-290, get off at Independance Blvd. Go past Garfield Park, and end up at Breakthrough Urban Ministries. Got a tip last night that there were 30 beds available. Uh,oh I thought you can get a bed just like that... no it is a 2-3 week process to even get considered. Well, Hector might have to go to Pacific Garden Mission in Podunk, southside Chicago somewhere.

I take Henry to the house to have Katie help me figure out where to take him. The process was maddening. Calling SRO's, local community organizations, the YMCA, shelters. Nothing can be offered to Henry immidiately. He is essentially on the street til he goes through the interview process for any inteim housing organization. While I am stressing, Katie and Henry are playing with my kids and keeping them occupied. I finally ask him to leave the house and come back at 6 so that I could problem solve. We finally get a lead with a group called LUCHA, but they will call with further info tomorrow. Then we realize that Henry has one more option and maybe he would be ready to enter a 1 year intensive program for drug addiction called Teen Challenge, it would meet his need for housing, food, and medical as well as building him up emotionally, physically, mentally, and spritually. We propose it to him, he agrees, does a phone interview, and qualified, and they had room, if he was serious. He said he was. We put him up for the night at the fleabag hotel and would go together to Teen Challenge tomorrow.

Friday
Hector arrives at 8am, we call Teen Challenge, they say he needs 7-8 days of clothes, Collared shirts for classes, dress shirts and tie for Church. I let Henry have a couple shirts and a tie and give him a couple bucks to by dress pants and shoes at the Salvation Army. I tell him to come back at 12 and we'll leave. He does, we go to Walgrees for some toiletries, then McDonalds for his last meal before he leaves for 1 year. We pray, then he enters the building.I read the rules and the expectations of the program to Henry. The program is very structured, its going to be hard, we both acknowledge that. 4 months at the dormitory and 8 months in Michigan, Missouri, Virginia, or Pennsylvania where he will be taught how to read and write, get his GED, and improve jobs skills. I am so excited for Hector. He seems to be excited at the prospect of reading a newspaper for the first time. I pay for the program, norefundable if Henry leaves. They assure me that most stick the program out. Henry seems worried, but he says he need to do this for himself, he's tired of living this life. He asks me to pray for him every night, I agree.


I know that this will be the program that gets Henry clean for good and on a path of realizing the person whom God created him to be.

Bochinche(Gossip)

I hate the term "white" as a catch-all phrase. Using the term "white" can be used as a way of describing injustice, whether it be institutional or individual, upon someone from a minority group. It also is used as a means of distinguishing those in power and those that do not have "a seat a the table". Periodically, it is used as an insult, such as " Why you actin' all white?". "White" is also used a marker of class, such as
"That's how white people talk." or " Why you dressin' like a white boy?" "or " That' s what white people like."
I also find it funny, when you ask a young person, with very little experience with different races, how to describe a white person, they say, "They're all racist", " They're all rich." "They're all stuck up."

This is all a preface to some of our experience on our block. These are the thoughts that have gone through our neighbors minds since our moving here five years ago. We knew it was a reality, but have done everything we can to beat the "white" catch-all phrase by just living here and creating relationships with our neighbors on our block. While I welcome all the critical permutations that the term "white" stands for, in their purest forms, I can't stand when my neighbor, outside my window, gossips about the "white people" , how they aren't from around here, that our neighbors are just puppets for what we want to do in the neighborhood, that it has to take "white people" to move here to bring up the block. All this from a friend.

All I'm saying is hearing someone describe us and what we have done collectively with our neighbors on the block in the most laziest and racist way, as "white people" just disappoints me, hurts me, and divides our block into us versus them, which should not be. We're a community of many different people trying to figure out living in the same space together; and reducing each other to the most base descriptions just fuels hate, distrust, and division. I plan to confront him and have him explain himself face to face, hopefully we'll have a nice talk. Ironically though, the puppet, La Comay, from Puerto Rico's SuperExclusivo's favorite catchphrase is, "Bochinche!".

Summer Reading

Just received a text message from someone recommending I read a book called Sidewalks in the Kingdom. This is about the city and it's built environment and it's relationship to spirituality. I am also ordering a book call Our Lot, about the roots of our current housing crisis and a critique of the American Dream of owning a home. Good summer reading.

Toilet Warz

I have the privilege, not of my own accord, of living in a society, that even to this day, favors a man. There still is a wage gap between men and women, women still must fight to not have the government make choices for her medical and family decisions. Women have made significant gains in gaining equality. However, there is one place that women should not have the same rights, equal protection does not extend to pooping in the same bathroom.

There Goes The Neighborhood

I have lived and seen all things in Chicago. I have lived in, for lack of better descriptions, changing neighborhoods, stable neighborhood, and just the hood. I know these are loaded descriptions, but any Chicagoan at the ground level knows what I am talking about. A great book to check out is the book There Goes the Neighborhood: Racial, Ethnic, and Class Tensions in Four Chicago Neighborhoods and Their Meaning for America. The neighborhoods are all southwest side neighborhoods with given psuedonyms, they are essentially mirror images of the northwest side neighborhoods where I've lived. The voices of the people are voices of those I have grown up with or have lived with.
How do you deal with neighborhood change? What physical elements or characteristics of people make you feel uncomfortable in a place you have called home? How much change is your neighborhood willing to accept or accomodate before there is a tipping point racially or socio-economically?

Chew on this: You live on the corner of Narragansett and Addison, you are an elderly woman in a small ranch house that you have lived in for 30 years, you tend your garden and grass daily, your whole family lives in Arlington Hieghts. Then one day you wake up, the side of your house says King Killa, on top of that the Latin Kings have crossed off the message and put their symbol. Do you get the hell out or do you resist temptation and stay and work to promote understanding between gang members in your nieghborhood and your values and the values that have come to define your quiet and peaceful neighborhood for the past 30 years?

Street Art?

When I was in high school at Lane Tech, its seemed like graffiti art blew up. My freshman year everyone became a tagger, even the nerdiest or least artistically inclined kid would try out a tag name. I guess if you were good you would hook up with other taggers and start a crew or just get into one. I remember ones like J4F and X-Men.

I never hung out with legitimate taggers but I went out with a girl in high school and we did some volunteer work scraping down a wall that was to going to be used as a permission wall. Anyway, I asked one of the guys why they tag, he went on to say it was art for him and that he only tagged under the CTA and government buildings. From then on I realized that graffiti could be used for art and for protest against opressive elements in society. I also appreciate how tagging has morphed into though provoking street art including stencils, posters, stickers. I understand that there is an ethos or a shared set of beliefs these artists work under.

So, I have some questions whether it be a tagger, artist, design theorist, property owner etc. These are in no particular order.

Is there a heirerachy of value given to a piece of street art that is created?

Can one judge the intent of a piece based on it's form or medium? For example, if I'm just a dumb kid who wants to put my name on a couple of garages for the fun of it, is that legitimate?

What if I wanted to tag over a community mural?

Is gang graffti a legitimate form?

Is street art less about protest and politics and more of a selfish endevor?

Can graffiti ever be considered as a nuisance?

Detroit on My Mind

I first went to Detroit on a college debate team road trip in 1997. I was able realize my dream of going to see one of the old rest belt cities on its death bed. It was my first attempt at anthropological and urban planning tourism, not only seeing the downtown and touristy areas, but inhabiting the neighborhoods, being with residents and living as a true inhabitant would, feeling how the built environment affects locals.

I have an unhealthy attraction to order and disorder. There is beauty in order and poetry in chaos. I especially love the chaos of Detroit and its ruins. From 2 million inhabitants to less than 900,000 the city is now post apocolyptic. Detroit, today, perfectly inhabits the following writing by an unknown poet:



The Splendor of the Ruin

Ruins are a testament to human pride, the fragility of existence and the finite nature of the world.

Urban Tranquility or Anxiety

The combination of visual and music in this clip gives you insight of the feelings evoked in me when I visit a new city or how an urban space can affect one emotionally and psychologically.

koyaanisqatsi - Pruit Igoe

koyaanisqatsi music by philip glass

Welcome to Chicago, Baby.

On Tuesday May 19, at 6:05, my baby was born into this city. Her name is Ava. Her middle name is more of a moniker, Paz de la Ciudad. Ava, Peace of the City. She is beautiful, peaceful, and healthly and I am on top of the world.

Pregnant in Chi-town

Berrrrrwyn

Son of Svengoolie. Good show for cheezy rubber chicken jokes, talking skeletons, and 1950's B- horror movies. Rich Koz a True Chicago, or Berwyn, icon. A True chicago tv show; when you had to turn the first dial to U and the second dial to Channel 32.

4th Annual Keystone Block Clean-up

Hispanic or Latino?

The census workers are out and about. So will I be defined as white, hispanic, latino? I just found out that Latino/Hispanic is not a race. So, according the U.S. government, apparently I am a white hispanic/latino who has Puerto Rican, Ukrainian, maybe Scandanavian blood with a Serbian last name, and to top it all off, I don't culturally identify fully with any of those categories or nationalities. Talk about messed up. Wish the census had a category for Chicagoan, the red, white, and baby blue run thick through my viens.

Suburb in the City

On Saturday I sat with Dave on the sidewalk, in front of my house, right after the annual block clean-up kick-off event. We sat there taking in the beauty of our neighbors' work, watching Liam, Ella, and Izzy run freely on the sidewalk and parkway, Dave sighed and said, " We got it nice over here, my neice and nephew live in a warzone over by Kimball". " You don't get this around here, it's nice because only dose yuppies have nice blocks, family blocks. This is a family block, like the suburbs in the city. " I said it takes a lot of work to maintain this. He said, " Naw, enough people care about their own kids and others; you got people over there, and there, and over there, spread out around the block, people who care."

I've been asked where I might live if I moved from here, I replied that I have daydreamed about living in Galewood, Oak Park, or some other family oriented nieghborhood.

To me, this block isn't the suburbs or utopia,I have seen or lived in those type of places. Here gang-bangers, addicts, hustlers, prostitutes, sexual predators, all pass through and surround this space. But if Dave's neice can sleep on the porch, like she did this Friday night, and my kids can run around (somedays) without fear of falling and getting stuck by a needle, if families can feel a sense of relative peace, then it's worth it to me to stay. I've got my family oriented neighborhood right here and we've got too many connections and growing roots here in this neighborhood, there's too much at stake to stop what we have intentionally been doing here to leave.

588-2300

True Chicago commercial.

Tweet, tweet

I just beat Ashton Kutcher.

Earth Day 2

When I grew up, I didn't think one bit about littering. In fact, one thing that I remember about about my childhood was how dirty Milwaukee Avenue was on the way to the drugstore. I attributed messy streets with city life. Once, when my aunt came from Puerto Rico, I was riding in her car and I threw a soft drink cup out the window, she said "Billy keep Chicago clean", I looked at her in disdain. I continued this practice until I was 24 years old, when I accidentally threw a cup out the window in front of Katie, like the first week dating. Apparently that was'nt normal in her experience. I mean come on, throwing something out the window, leaving a Whopper wrapper on a flower pot, throwing ashes out of a moving vehicle was wrong? Apparently so.
Once I heard Eric and Emily were cleaning their block over on Mozart and Cortland, back in the day; they even picked up an empty purple juice bottle in front of some gangbangers. I was burning with anger, who did Katie, Eric, and Emily think they were acting like some uppity-ups, keeping Chicago clean. Didn't they know True Chicagoans trash their town and like it like that. Nonetheless, slowly, I came around. I am reformed and so what, I do like picking up trash in front of my house and keeping Chicago clean.

Earth Day

Today at school we celebrated by creating a ton of trash from decorating our classroom for the annual International Day Celebration. Schools are the biggest wasters of paper out there. I think my blue bin has gum, styrofoam cups, binders with those little wires, styrofoam lunch trays, and pencil shavings. In addition, I think my janitor throws out my recycling in the regular garbage. Happy Earth Day.

Little Lotto

When I was a kid, my grandma would send me to the cornerstore on Fullerton for milk. Every once in a while she would also send me to buy lottery tickets for my grandpa, sometimes I would get to pick numbers. I would never win, but I always loved guessing the which numbered ball would pop up next.

Green Limousine

I just got my replacement CTA Plus card so that I can ride up Pulaski on rainy days or when I'm lazy. Pulaski is not as exciting as other lines and the busses don't have as much character as they use to. True Chicagoans will remember the green limousine, used until the 90's. That was a classy ride. Cladded in rivited metal panels of sea green and army green; an interior of, I believe, hues of biege, black, and taupe. The essence of a transportation, True Chicago style, "nuttin' to fancy, it just gotta get me to where I'm goin'. "

My Favorite Smells

What a beautiful night, walked out of Facets movie theater on Fullerton. 62 degrees, street crowded with cars, taxis, and j-walking pedestrians. The colors glimmering on the freshly wet asphalt. The smell of a misty spring evening rain. One of my favorite smells.

Here is a list of my other favorite smells: freshly lit cigarette, stale beer in a tavern, hiacynth, the Lincoln Park Conservatory, my son's soft cheeks, coffee roasting from a factory on Elston and Webster, Big Red gum, Cool Water perfume for Women, a newly published book, new carpet, newly painted room, cilantro, dentist's office (cloves), leather, moth balls, wintermint, gasoline, Murphy's Oil, pine trees, pipe smoke.

Best shots of the Trump Tower

New buildings are changing the skyline everyday. The Aqua, The Legacy, 300 N. Lasalle, One Museum Place, and the Trump Tower have changed the skyline forever. The Trump Tower is practically done and it's spire and it's top are tastefully done, the best parts of the tower. I do have a love hate relationship with the tower.
Worst shots of the tower: from the river, Navy Pier, the Kennedy. Best shots of the tower: along the Dan Ryan,heading north from Sox Park, when the road curves west; looking south on Rush street, standing on the platform of the El at Randolph and Wabash.

Best Shot of Chicago

Yesterday I went to the History Fair with my students. After, I turned off 31st street onto some street that is parrallel to the Dan Ryan Expressway and the railroad tracks, trying to get on I-94. I got the best perspective of the Trump Tower (which I hate), in fact taking this road north and getting onto the Dan Ryan,I got the best shot of the skyline,period. The south view of the skyline where the Dan Ryan turns left provides the most nuanced view of the buildings and their interplay with each other than any other perspective I've come across. No picture though, you have to check it out yourself.

32 years old

I know a person that was overweight and went to meet a personal trainer, after much analysis they determined that although he was 28 years old, he had the body of a 38 year old. Over the course of a year and a half, although 30 years old, he had gotten his body to that of a 24 year old. In the past two years I have done the same, lost wieght I mean, but I'm pretty sure I have the body of a 32 year old, because in fact I am 32 years old today, it's my birthday.
I am beginning to notice aches and pains, and a faint wrinkles on my brow and corners of my eyes. I am also noticing that I am sounding and thinking more like an old codger. I am constantly trying to instruct my kid and others about the right way of doing things, I dont want kids on my lawn, I dont like them playing football on the street because they might hit my car, and I complain if the nieghbors if their too loud.
I'll tell you this, I have no idea what these next few years have to hold. I never imaginged life past 25 years old, so I kinda have been on auto pilot. I have a baby girl on the way. I don't have any dreams for myself, my family. Kinda sad. Its time to dream again.

Obama Administration Oversteps It's Boundaries?

The Government forced out the CEO of GM. I don't know, slippery slope, or necessary? Even Mayor Daley was like, Whoa, dude, you passed the line.

Grieving a loss

To me, a tree represents two things, life and permanence. It's always difficult for me to see trees cut down in the city, particularly trees that have taken 50-60 years to mature. No trees have meant more to me than the trees of my old neighborhood at 3312 N.Keystone. There were only five houses on my block and eight mature trees, that isn't counting the leafy roof that lined School Street, the "Lost Boys" crab apple tree in next door apartment building's courtyard, or the bushes you could play hide and seek in, these trees on Keystone formed an impenetrable canopy, a boundary between the sidewalk and the sky. The way a space is organized has an effect on the people that find themselves within that space. I cannot imagine living in a suburban tract housing development without trees, or on a busy street where trees are a nuisence or not allowed to flourish. I owe a great deal of who I am to those formative years playing on my block. The way the urban space happened to be organized, with the trees and the J-shape of the block was serendipitious. The trees created an urban Secret Garden for play.

Today, however, I grieve the loss of the tallest tree on my old block. I rode past the 3300 block of Keystone and found the remains of the tree which my frends and I carved our names. The tree that I carved the names, Caitlin Bryce and Kimberly Brown, my first loves. The tree that quickly came to mind when reading "The Giving Tree" to Liam. All the people and friends from my past on Keystone have gone, the buildings, fences, garages, the names on doorbells are different, but the one thing that gave permanence to my memories, of what it felt like to live on my block, were the trees, and now they are gone too, and so my memories will fade into a mist. And I am reminded of the fragility of life.




If you want to see what I'm talking about go to google maps click on the streetview of 4000 W. School Street go west (straight), turn north(right) onto the 3300 block of Keystone and see for yourself. Just imagine it with at least five more mature trees planted.

Housing Prices have bombed

Last year the average home price in my zip code was $250,000, today it's $60,000. Looks like we're staying in the neighborhood for a little while.

Humboldt Park Needs a Break

Humboldt Park can't win. For thirty years people left the neighborhood or had been stuck here with no means of moving up in the ladder. So it became a struggle to maintain and improve housing and quality of life in the neighborhood for residents. Then, gentrification began pushing west and was threatening the displacement of many longtime residents. So the struggle became one of fighting to remain in a neighborhood through keeping housing affordable. While all the non-profits and community organizations were fighting to create or maintain affordable housing, the sub-prime lenders got so many residents to believe they were ready to own. Bam. The housing foreclosure crisis. So now non-profits organizations are fighting educate residents on how to keep their homes and renegotiate with lenders. My observations has been that more often than not, foreclosure has been the best option for people. Now Humboldt Park is beset with abandoned, boarded up homes; sometimes three or four a block, gentrification has slowed to a crawl, and Humboldt Park is quickly bleeding residents. If you count Hermosa just to the north and West Garfield Park to the south, your looking at one of the most abandoned areas of our city.

Now i understand that I don't have a complete handle on the dynamics of what is going on, but instead of spending so much time trying to get unwilling lenders to renegotiate rates, it may look like we have to take a two pronged approach to save Humboldt Park and other neighborhoods. First housing organizations need to continue to educate and guide troubled homeowners through the process of saving or losing their home. Then non-profits such as Bickerdike, Hispanic Housing, NNNN, LSNA etc. should work on creating affordable housing by buying up all the foreclosed property at below market prices and buying as many "short sales" as they can, rehabbing them, and getting them on the market for an affordable price for new home owners or simply managing the properties as affordable housing for renters. If these organizations are serious about their commitment to the neighborhood, in the long run, and are wanting longtime residents to stick around, this is the opportunity to get more affordable housing under the control of community organizations that seek the betterment of the neighborhood and keep longtime residents in the community. Developers are not snapping up these properties so quick because of the credit crunch and banks unwilling top loan to any developer. Community and housing organizations have connections with other non-profit lending organizations that can work around all the red tape the developers deal with. Gentrification has been weakened in Humboldt Park, this is the break organizations and residents have been waiting for.

City of Big Shoulders Gives Me a Hug

I have been taken back by the good will and honesty that has come my way recently. I get a daily brief of crime in my neighborhood from this site called Everyblock Chicago, I know all of the assualt, knifings, rapes, robberies, drug and prostitution arrests that happen in a one mile radius, everyday. Sometimes you think Chicago's gone crazy.
But three times in the last month our garage has been open hours at a time and nothing has been stolen, nieghbors have kindly watched our stuff or rung our bell to let us know. I lost my wallet on Thursday, with credit cards and a two hundred dollar check. I had been looking everywhere, I even back tracked up and down Belmont Avenue looking for any signs of my wallet. Today, I received an envelope; in it my license, credit cards, and the two hundred dollar check. The envelope had no return address. It's good to be reminded of a little kindness, honesty, thoughtfulness, humbleness, and neighborly love exists in Chicago. I extend thanks and blessings.

Chicago's President

Today My class and I witnessed the historic inaguration of Chicagoan Barack Obama. My class has a bunch of talkers, so naturally I was dreading having to get on thier backs about talking to their friends while the moment passed us by. But, I was impressed with the respect that my kids showed. They clapped everytime someone spoke, they bowed their heads when a pastor prayed, they held their hands over their hearts and sang our national anthem, without me buggin them to do it. I have never seen anything like it before, it's like their understanding of the moment in time brought forth a well of citizenship that has not been tapped in young people for generations. Two of my students gave articulate and passionate assessment of their feelings afterward, one said that it makes him feel like that "maybe in 20 years we'll have a Latino president, or maybe even a Middle Eastern". The other, I'm not joking, welled up giving his summary, " It's amazing, I mean, we're viewing history, nothing ever like this will ever come close to happening like this again."
I myself, am glad to be on this side of history, to collectively rejoice with my students, other , Americans, and world citizens in the new direction our country is heading in. For those of you that read my previous blog about election night, I have lightened up a little. Unlike the night of November 3, where people just seemed fake and the reaction to the win seemed contrived . I am glad today felt like one of genuine joy and excitement.

Today I was inspired by my students optimism; I am inspired by fellow Chicagoans that scrimped and saved to bring generations of their families to Washington D.C, I'm inspired that someone from my block made it to D.C., I am inspired by all the people that lived through the Civil Rights era crying in the crowd, I am inspired by the inaguration speech in which, I felt, Barack was able to express his awarness of his symbolic meaning and America's symbolic meaning, to push our country into the future, by compelling us to look back at our past and reexamine where we have come from and what our forefathers ideals were for democracy, freedom, and liberty. Today, I am proud that our country, has shown that what makes our country, our people great, is that in the name of our ideals we can work to reconcile our countries' moral failures such as slavery, discrimination, economic injustice, intolerance, greed, poverty, wars, selfishness etc. Thanks Barack for leading us into that future.