Monday, May 25, 2015

Strawberry Rhubarb Ginger Jam

Ingredients

That's a mouthful for a jar of springtime sunshine, isn't it? And yet it is the most delicious thing ever, and the first real cooking project in the new kitchen (except for a minor corn salsa, but I don't really count that so much).

Saturday at the farmer's market I was talked into buying rhubarb. I had been wanting to experiment with rhubarb a little, and with a week of 90-degree weather forecast, I figured this might be my last chance for the season. If my week got crazy and I ran out of time and couldn't make anything, rhubarb freezes beautifully, so I bought a pound.

I should have bought more.

This tart jam gets its sweetness from crystallized ginger and overripe, nearly-gone strawberries. Fresh grated ginger brings a little heat into the mix, and it sets firm without pectin or fuss of any kind. I am a fan of small-batch canning, but this is too small a batch for how much I love this jam. Usually I share what I make, as The Teenager is not always consistently appreciative of my efforts, and it's just the two of us, but this recipe made only two half-pint jars and a little extra, which I promptly slathered on scones this morning. I plan to stalk the market for more rhubarb this weekend and freeze whatever I can forage so that I can work on variations as the summer progresses (raspberry rhubarb? Blueberry rhubarb with cardamom and clove?).

For now, here is this lovely jam.

Strawberry Rhubarb Ginger Jam

Ingredients:

2 c. sliced strawberries

1/8 c. (ish) grated fresh ginger (pro tip: freeze the entire knob of ginger and grate as needed)

1/4 c. chopped crystallized ginger

one pound rhubarb (about four 18" stalks), trimmed of leaves and chopped into 1/2" pieces

1 1/4 c. sugar

Method:

Combine all ingredients in a  heavy saucepan and simmer on medium heat until rhubarb and berries break down and thicken into jam. Stir frequently to prevent scorching. This process varies wildly from 20 to 45 minutes, depending on altitude, berries, alignment of the stars, etc.

Caution: At this stage the jam is like molten lava. Keep the simmer low and be mindful of spluttering spatters.

To test if it is done, spoon a bit onto a cold plate and cool to room temperature (use the 'fridge). The jam is ready if, when you drag a finger through it, it does not seep back together.

This will keep in the 'fridge for a couple weeks, or use a water bath canning method to process for 10 minutes and keep it fresh for up to one year.

Enjoyed on gluten free scones this morning, but delicious on conveyance of any kind, to be sure.

Jam

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Buddhism, Sand Mandalas, And Cowhide Rugs

On Wednesday night, The Teenager and I attended the closing ceremony for a sand mandala that had been made over five days at the yoga studio where I study.

On Thursday, I practiced the art of attachment and went shopping for baubles and trinkets for the new house. One of my purchases was a cowhide rug.

As I was checking out, flipping the cowhide onto the conveyor and then flipping it back into the cart, feeling its cow-y leather underside and soft hair, I felt the irony deeply. Perhaps not as much as the cow might have, had s/he been able to point out the extreme nature of attending (and being very moved by and filled up from) a ceremony to mark the completion of a Green Tara mandala, the Mother of Compassion, and then the next day condoning the slaughter of an animal.

This makes the ceremony no less moving but certainly reinforces the idea that Buddhism is truly a practice, not a perfect, and we are all just bits of dust in the universe, hopefully trying not to hurt others (minus a cowhide rug, a pair of leather shoes, and a burger every now and again, right?) in our quest to figure out what it all means.

The Teenager and I were talking about the ceremony on the way home, what struck us the most. The monk who explained the mandala stressed (through an interpreter who was dressed in white pants, white socks with white flips flops, and a Nirvana T-shirt, the one that looks cartoon-y with the eyes X-ed out so it looks dead) that when praying or meditating, it is fine to meditate on Green Tara and all her qualities, but it is also fine to meditate on yourself, imagining that you are invested with all of the qualities of a Buddha.

This is the way with yoga also. You don't need to chant "om" or speak Sanskrit, although both of those things, when offered up authentically and by a person who really means them, can be lovely. Real yoga, not the kind that features bendy white girls in sponsored athletic gear but the kind that offers each practitioner a path that is unique as a fingerprint, doesn't force you to worship a god or change. Real yoga meets each person where they are and helps them discover the truest, best version of themselves. Sometimes you have to wade through a lot of shit to get there, including self-doubt, discouragement, and tight hamstrings, but again, it's a practice, not a perfect.

I would not do the ceremony a bit of justice, but here is a glimpse into the sweaty, 90-minute ceremony that featured, chanting, a cacophony of music that sounded to my ears like toddlers fighting in a tin can, a few dumb questions (and a few good ones), and the shining face of the one monk who speaks English, standing up at the end and saying with a little impish grin, "Okay. All done."

Each picture is captioned.

[caption id="attachment_1144" align="aligncenter" width="720"]Working on the mandala on Tuesday before the ceremony. Four monks laid sand for five hours a day. Working on the mandala on Tuesday before the ceremony. Four monks laid sand for five hours a day.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1149" align="aligncenter" width="960"]The completed mandala the following day. Photo by Gretchen Van Utt. The completed mandala the following day. Photo by Gretchen Van Utt.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1145" align="aligncenter" width="960"]Detail. It looked like felt, not sand, and it took a lot of self-control for me to not touch it. Detail. It looked like felt, not sand, and it took a lot of self-control for me to not touch it.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1147" align="aligncenter" width="720"]There were approximately eleventy million people in the studio, It was, as my friend Luke would say, hotter than a Shiite Muslim. These little kids watched through the windows. There were approximately eleventy million people in the studio, It was, as my friend Luke would say, hotter than a Shiite Muslim. These little kids watched through the windows.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1146" align="aligncenter" width="720"]Shiva looks over all, and the previously mentioned impish monk. Shiva looks over all, and the previously mentioned impish monk.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1150" align="aligncenter" width="960"]There was an audible gasp and everyone leaned forward when the monk first drew a line through the sand. He drew four lines (through the four gates?), and then two other monks used wide paintbrushes to brush the sand towards the center. There was an audible gasp and everyone leaned forward when the monk first drew a line through the sand. He drew four lines (through the four gates?), and then two other monks used wide paintbrushes to brush the sand towards the center.[/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1148" align="aligncenter" width="2048"]Finally out of the sweaty room, we followed the monks to Robert E.Lee park and listened and watched as they poured the blessed sand into the Jones Falls sot hat it could spread through Baltimore. Funny hats are funny. Finally out of the sweaty room, we followed the monks to Robert E.Lee park and listened and watched as they poured the blessed sand into the Jones Falls so that it could spread through Baltimore. Funny hats are funny.[/caption]

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Tilting At Windmills

windmills

So this past week I have had two major anxiety attacks. So major that they required a double dose of anti-anxiety meds to knock them back, and even that took twice as long as usual.

I feel like I am not meant for this world sometimes. It seems like all of the vibrations in the universe travel across the plane of existence and settle in my bones. It's too much, too overwhelming: the pain, the sadness, even the happiness sometimes. I remember cowering undeneath  a seat at a Washington Bullets game when I was young, maybe six, covering my ears and crying as everyone around me roared their approval at a come-from-behind victory.

The hate spewed online and seething below the surface of many interactions this past week in Baltimore has been unbearable. As the news about Freddie Gray unfolded, changing from weeks of peaceful protest and calls for action to two nights of violence and rioting, I scrolled Twitter obsessively.

This week, I have deleted my subscription to multiple news outlets and blocked several "rebuild Baltimore" groups on Facebook. I am contemplating deleting my Facebook page altogether and archiving my Twitter feed.

Maybe it is cowardice that forces me to take actions to protect myself, but I am really struggling to cope with what is going on in this city and the deep history of racism and discord and the massive leaps of faith it will require to change, leaps of faith that I am not ultimately sure the bulk of humanity is capable of making. Certainly not many residents in Baltimore, when many in the northern neighborhoods recite standard white privilege mantras ("I can't believe they destroy their own neighborhoods!") and in southern and western neighborhoods where crime unrelated to the unrest has seen a spike as police and National Guard forces were engaged in concentrated areas of the city.

Tilting at windmills. Spitting in the wind. Bailing out the ocean with a teaspoon.

That's how changes feels. Impossible.

I am breathing. I go to yoga. I am trying to sleep (on an air mattress with a hole that lands me hovering above the floor by the time my alarm goes off in the morning, but a mattress is coming in less than two weeks so I suck it up). I write down what I am grateful for (and there is so much), but the world seeps into my skin through my pores, and I can't stop it.

I dream nearly constantly of the ocean, a beach with the water in front of me and no sound but the wind and the waves. No people, nothing electronic, nothing, just the sand and the water and the wind. You can't take a vacation from yourself, as much as you try (my early 20s proved that to me), but I am struggling to find equilibrium in the city. I am nesting in the nearly-finished rehab, and it feels like I am building a fortress. This can't be healthy, but it feels necessary.

What do you do when it's too much?

 (as an aside, I am not writing anymore on the ways in which Baltimore needs to be fixed. I have three other blogs on the subject but just have to step back. Part 1 and part 2 are still up. For now.)

(image source)

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, May 1, 2015

Where Do We Go From Here: Part II

police

As I write this, Marilyn J. Mosby, one bad-ass State's Attorney General, is busy outlining the exact timeline of what happened to Freddie Gray on his 45-minute trip to jail and lining up charges against the six officers responsible for his death.

All six officers will be prosecuted with charges ranging from false imprisonment to depraved-heart murder to 2nd degree murder, and warrants have been issued for the arrests of all officers.

On several levels, these charges are revolutionary and can result not only in justice for Freddie Gray and his family but also deeper and long-lasting changes in Baltimore.

There are two specific charges that I want to address, two charges that strike at the very heart of the problem in Baltimore.

First, false imprisonment. It was widely reported by the Baltimore Police Department that Freddie Gray had a knife on him when he was arrested, and he did. A pocket knife. The same kind of knife that many people carry around daily for all-purpose type uses. This knife is entirely legal. It was closed, clipped inside his pocket, and at no time did Freddie Gray reach for it.

Officers initially said the knife was an illegal switchblade and used that to justify Freddie Gary's arrest. That the knife was legal and the officers were charged with false imprisonment signals a potential end to the too-common practice of officers stopping, searching, detaining, and arresting black men in this city for no probably cause. Walking while black, standing while black, and, in Freddie Gray's case, running while black will no longer be a reason for arrest (and abuse or death).

The second charge that gets to center mass of what needs to change in this city is depraved-heart murder, a callous disregard for human life. This occurred when Freddie Gray was shackled and not seatbelted in. This occurred when Freddie Gray asked for medical help and was rewarded with ankle shackles. This occurred when Freddie Gray took his rough ride to Central Booking. This occurred when Freddie Gray asked again for medical help. And it occurred one final time when the second prisoner in the van was processed before a now-unresponsive Freddie Gray was attended to.

#BlackLivesMatter

We shouldn't have to explain which lives we mean when we say that life matters, but the treatment of Freddie Gray clearly illustrates that Baltimore Police (and others in the city, if we are being honest), hold a depraved-heart, a callous disregard, for the life of black people in the city. This is the thing that needs to change first, or everything else is superficial.

#AllLivesMatter

As with the first part of this series, I acknowledge that hearts need to change before anything truly changes, but as hearts are changing, it is important to put into place policies and procedures that provide practical support on the ground. Today we talk about police.

Disclaimer: again, these are generalizations. There are actual people behind these numbers. It is important to look honestly, without politics or division, at the truth of what simply is in Baltimore City.

Let's understand the extremes on both sides first. 

1. Police in Baltimore City (and all over the country) have a history of targeting black men. To that end, black men make up almost 40% of the prison population in the U.S., many of them incarcerated for minor crimes that a white man would receive probation for. Which is interesting because whites are far more likely than blacks to abuse drugs.

But I digress.

The point is that black men have an historical target on their back, pursued and prosecuted with a fervor that borders on fanatical.

2. Police in Baltimore City (and all over the country) have an extraordinarily difficult job. They have to make split-second decisions that are often life-or-death. They are charged with protecting a public that frequently has no respect for the job. Just as police are accused of treating black people like animals, they are referred to as "pigs" and dehumanized as nothing more than a badge and a gun.

That being said, there are ways to repair and heal relationships between these two groups. There is a way to reconcile the pain and anguish from the past with vital and important changes in policing procedures. I suggest these as a starting point, and I recognize that some of the groundwork has truly been laid over the course of the protests and as a result of the charges made against the officers.

Point #1: Police need to live in the communities they police. While you cannot force a person to reside where they work, and there is value to separating work from home, especially in such a stressful job, officers should at least be required to reside in Baltimore City. Currently, 75% of Baltimore City police officers live outside of Baltimore City. They are not vested in their community. They may never have lived in the city. They don't understand city-specific concerns.

Understanding what people are going through is crucial in deciding how to approach each situation.

Point #2: Communities need to step up and police themselves. From the mother who got so much attention for grabbing her son and smacking him during the riots to the parents who urged their son to turn himself in (which he did, and was rewarded with a $500,000 bail), communities need to take the lead on holding themselves and their children accountable. While I can't say I agree with hitting your kid (there is a serious cognitive dissonance to hitting your kid as a response to violence), that mom saw her kid and went and got him. Her blows were probably more about fear than anger, but the point is she went and took responsibility for her child. In another instance, a local football coach recognized some of his players and went to get them. The men in the Nation of Islam stood between local shops and rioters, pleading for calm. Many in the Baltimore community, black and white, have begun to organize and call for real change, change than cannot be legislated or mandated. It must come from the people, and it must reach across race and income level. White people cannot swoop into Sandtown-Winchester and expect any change to stick (see again #1: if you don't actually live there it is difficult if not impossible to truly understand).

And make no mistake: change can't just occur in Sandtown-Winchester. The night after the riots, I stood in line for coffee and listed to a young white girl talk about how refreshing her sleep was the night before. While the city burned, police and young people were injured, and stores were looted, she slept like a baby. This clueless response to what occurred is endemic in certain parts of the city, and some deep reflection is necessary. If you slept well in Baltimore on Monday, April 27, you may be part of the problem.

Point #3: Police need better training. It needs to go deeper than physical training and learning how to shoot a gun. They need to learn about poverty. They need to learn how to communicate. And they need to be rigorously screened for any indication that they may not be able to protect and serve without bias. Current police officers need to go through screening, regardless of experience or record, and anyone who is unable to remain unbiased in their job should be immediately reassigned or given early retirement if necessary.

Point #4: Police and communities need to work together in the city on things that do not involve policing. A community project would do wonders to develop relationships and humanize each side. The reason that both sides can treat the other with disregard is because they manage to keep their distance. Working together would help communities get to know their police, and vice versa.

Ideas for positive community projects include:

*Rebuilding houses for occupation or sale (with proceeds going directly back into the community, or residents of the community offered the opportunity to purchase the houses they work on);

*Designing and creating community gardens, a place where residents in food deserts or food swamps can grow their own vegetables and a place for community gatherings; and,

*Tutoring projects or afterschool programs in the community for kids so that children can meet and get to know the officers in their lives.

It is easy to hate and fear people you don't know, and the black community has ample and justified reason to hate and fear anyone in a uniform. Taking steps forward to build trust and relationships goes a long way to begin to heal the wounds that we have made as a society over the back two centuries.

Point #5: All pending cases of police brutality need to be accelerated. There is a backlog of police brutality cases against the Baltimore City police department, some of which have been open for over a year. These people deserve answers, one way or another, and the department and the State Attorney General's office need to devote all their energy to clearing the deck and moving forward. Again, this does not erase what has happened in the past, but as long as these cases are open and unresolved, the city will have a hard time moving forward.

Point #6: What do these two phrases have in common - "the blue wall" and "snitches get stitches?" They both maintain the status quo by continuing a practice of fear, intimidation, and lies. The blue wall protects officers regardless of what happens, and the practice of intimidating potential witnesses prevents neighborhoods from feeling community and protecting themselves. They also keep each side - the police and the community - from coming together to solve any problems that exist in the community. Let's not kid ourselves - there are serious violence and drug issues in Baltimore. Planting a vegetable garden and giving a police officer sensitivity training is making a silk purse from a sow's ear and only scratches the surface of the change that needs to occur. We cannot help neighborhoods progress without working together. We cannot let real criminals and dirty cops dictate what happens in our communities.

It should be noted that the changes I suggest are not necessarily revolutionary. They may even have been attempted half-heartedly before. The difference needs to be in the execution and the longevity, and the commitment to devoting time and resources. essentially, all parties need to decide that change is worth the effort and go from there.

Please add to the conversation below. Our city is a work in progress, and it takes everyone.

(Part I of this series can be found here)

(image source)

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Where Do We Go From Here: Part I

school

The death of Freddie Gray and the questions surrounding it are an ongoing issue that is sparking protest and violence across the city of Baltimore. While this event in Baltimore's history is far from over, I think it is important work to begin to look forward to what happens next. Marches, protests, looting, peace, and violence cannot change anything about what has already happened; Freddie Gray is no less dead, his family is no less grief-stricken.

What matters is where we go from here.

I have said it before and will say it again: real change requires a cultural shift. Once this cultural shift occurs, everything else changes.

To wit, everyone needs to care about other people's children as much as they care about their own.

We need to value the neighborhood two streets over as much as we do our own block.

"We" is defined as everyone, regardless of race and income level (because we are talking about socioeconomics here. Let's not kid ourselves and think that racism is over - take a quick peek at Twitter - but the new racism is institutionalized socioeconomic oppression. But I digress. Sort of. Not really.

It's easy to say that these things need to change, harder to change them. Everyone is an armchair quarterback, criticizing and dissecting and saying what should have been done.

NONE OF THAT MATTERS.

It is impossible to forget the legacy of violence, racism, oppression, and white supremacy in this country, but we need to move forward. We can forgive without forgetting. We can change things and honor those who came before.

Maybe a cultural shift is the only way true change will occur, but we can nudge it along with action that involves the entire community. Here's how, starting with education.

Before we begin, here's a disclaimer: These are generalizations, but they are based on research first and experience second. This is not the blathering of someone who has not done their homework, and it's not simply anecdotal (although as someone with 16 years of experience as a teacher I can certainly offer concrete examples). Feel free to offer alternate sources if you feel it's warranted.

Education

Students from low socioeconomic (SES) neighborhoods (predominantly minority but let's talk about all low-SES students) come to school not knowing how to read or sometimes even recognize letters. Many students from middle- and high-SES neighborhoods have been reading environmental print and recognize their names along with other everyday words. They may be writing. They may know the alphabet, and some may be reading many levels above kindergarten.

Based on this second group (higher-SES students), national standards have been written to require kindergartners to reach certain benchmarks prior to moving to the next grade. A student coming to school who does not recognize their name or know the alphabet is targeted for remediation. This could come in the form of additional classes or pull-out study groups.

If these students do not catch up to their peers by the 3rd grade, if they are not reading and writing on grade level, the rest of their schooling career, however long or abbreviated it may be, will be marked by extra classes for reading and math, and limited classes in the arts or PE.

So here's what happens, and we will use a young male as an example.

William comes to school as a low-SES student. He knows letters exist, but chances are good that in his neighborhood and family, there are not many books or magazines around. So although he is a curious, bright-eyed, active little boy, he tests poorly on kindergarten entrance tests and is immediately flagged for remediation.

First, he gets pulled out of regular classes when students are working on small group work, so he misses crucial information on how to work well in a group.

As the year progresses, William makes some strides forward, but not fast enough to meet the benchmarks, so he gets pulled out of his once-weekly art class and his twice-weekly PE class. Now William is in academic seatwork mode every day, all week long.

He is five. He is squirmy.

He begins to get antsy during the day, especially after lunch time. He starts to talk out in class, get up and wander around.

Suddenly, William is labeled as a behavior issue. His parents are called. They may come in, they may not come in, but they report that he is fine at home. After school he goes to a program where he runs around and then comes home and goes to sleep. This activity combined with a school day that starts at 7 a.m. and ends around 5 p.m. means there are few issues at home that aren't age appropriate (he is only five). The school repeats that William has behavior issues, and they put him on some sort of behavior monitoring system, sending William home with a red, yellow, green checklist to be signed nightly. This may or may not get signed because it may or may not get home. William is, after all, five years old.

Now William has gone from being an active, curious five-year-old entering kindergarten to meet new people and learn, to a behavior problem who is failing and may need to be held back. He gets no time out of the classroom setting and is not often working in a group because he is pulled out to drill in reading and math.

This continues, and by the time William reaches third grade, not only is he not reading fluently, but he is having trouble getting along with his peers and working in groups. He has not been able to develop any artistic talent because he has been out of those classes and there is no money for special art supplies or classes at home. His behavior has caused him to miss field trips. He hates school and thinks his teachers hate him. His parents are fed up with William, fed up with school, and don't know what to do with the continuing negativity.

Now, since William isn't a fluent reader, he is on the fast-track to dropping out and continuing the cycle of poverty.

This is a long anecdote to illustrate the path of millions of low-SES kids in our school systems. Of course some get out of the cycle of poverty, but relatively few. And newsflash: the majority of public school children are living in poverty. And the majority of school-aged children are in public school.

So what can we do? Throwing money at the problem hasn't helped. National standards haven't helped. Here's what will help.

1. Make the solution inter-generational. Parents in low-SES neighborhoods often have the same issues their children face. They may be functionally illiterate, which may prevent them from getting a job that pays a living wage. Offer parents the opportunity to come into the school to get their GED, take continuing education classes (including classes in the trades), and learn job-seeking skills. Then help parents with employment placement (team up with already-existing resources in the city or see #4 in funding options below) and offer computers, printing stations, and a quiet place for the whole family to do homework or study in the evening.

2. Implement solution #1 by offering flexible school hours. Parents who do have jobs cannot come to class during the day, and if their kids are home at night parents are faced with the choice of leaving them alone or not going to class. Schools need to adapt to the needs of their communities. If the community needs a school to function as a resource during the evening, then it should remain open.

3. As with everything, the most effective implementation of this will occur if teachers and administrators live in the community they serve. This may mean developing a teacher training program for students who are currently in high school, offering students the guarantee of a job as a teacher in their former school when they become appropriately certified. High schools can team with local community colleges to offer students who are interested dual enrollment opportunities. There are several of these types of structures already in place in Baltimore city, but making sure students and parents are aware of them is key. And because there are placement criteria and attendance criteria, this process needs to begin in middle school.

4. For #3, this means having counselors in place starting in middle school who are actually counseling students on all of the opportunities that are available to them. This includes college, trade school, travel as a part of a volunteer organization, taking a gap year that includes and internship, and other opportunities that high-SES neighborhoods have at their fingertips.

5. Middle school needs to be more effective. Counseling needs to start in middle school because that is when the decision to drop out is made.

"In high-poverty schools, if a sixth grade child attends less than 80 percent of the time, receives an unsatisfactory behavior grade in a core course, or fails math or English, there is a 75 percent chance that they will later drop out of high school — absent effective intervention."

Effective intervention includes academics that encourage exploration, lots of peer interaction and discussion (including instruction and direction on how to communicate effectively), and programs that help identify and develop a student's individual talents. Field experiences and travel into the world, even for an overnight trip out of state, can be eye-opening to students who have not been out of their neighborhood. Merciless test prep and lecture are lethal; they are neither engaging nor educational. Learning how to learn, explore, ask questions, and advocate for themselves should be the primary function of middle school. Academics can support these goals without superseding them.

So the big question: how is this funded? 

1. Immediately stop all nationally standardized testing. In Baltimore City, this means an additional $2,268,000 in the budget (or more, as the national average of per-pupil spending on standardized testing is $27 per student, and BCPS has a current enrollment of approximately 84,000 students).

2. Trim the administrative fat. School districts are notorious for top-heavy paydays for administrators who are part of the system in name only. Identify essential personnel in administration and eliminate the rest. This is a painful process, but it can be done in such a way to utilize the talents of administrators who are willing to dedicate themselves in other areas of the system.

3. Tap community resources: the people. To generalize a community and say that they aren't interested or don't have anything to offer is absurd. The hard part is identifying where people shine and helping them to share it with the school. This can be in the form of after school homework help or classes in art, music, and other enrichment areas. I am a former educator who started and ran my own accredited, non-profit school, but my daughter's high school has not asked for my assistance to volunteer in any capacity. I feel unwelcome in the school, and communication home is poor and sporadic. For a school to thrive, the community must be invested in its success.

4. Tap community resources: businesses. Administrators at each school should be tasked with developing relationships with businesses both large and small to offer internships and practical support. These relationships are not one-way streets; there are many ways in which a school can help a business. The ways in which each can benefit the other will be highly personal to each school. The school district should work to develop relationships with national companies or larger companies in the Baltimore area. Companies like Underarmour have a wide range of teaching and training opportunities, and they also have a large potential workforce.

(side note: If  Underarmour would bring manufacturing to Baltimore they could help schools implement specific training programs for design and production in the schools. This would not only offer potentially thousands of jobs to Baltimore but it would also give them the cachet of being "Made in America.")

These ideas are just the beginning, and each needs specifics and further development. They require looking at education differently, focusing more on the assets that a student and his or her family brings to the table instead of what's missing. It eliminates deficit-model thinking, involves the community surrounding the school, and promotes multiple pathways to success. It expands the borders of a student's life and helps them to see that there is more in the world.

Most importantly, it stresses that there is no "us" or "them." It is "we" working together to offer our children the support and the voice they need to be successful in the world. It is the community tailoring the school to their needs and goals, not an administration or a federal government dictating what each student learn.

Is it easy? Of course not. Nothing worth a damn comes easy, unfortunately. But progress would be steady and visible. The payoff of real empowerment is people who care about what happens to their not only themselves but also their neighbors.

Next stop: policing and housing.

Please add to the conversation below.

Updated to add: Alice Goffman: How where you live can determine your path to college — or prison

(image source)

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Unless And Until: Baltimore

fire

Unless and until all lives matter as more than a soundbite and a hashtag...

Unless and until we are so sickened by the site of assault of any kind...

Unless and until equal rights are more than a campaign slogan...

Unless and until everyone has a voice...

Unless and until it stops being, "Would you look at those people..."

Nothing will change. When someone sets a senior center on fire and burns and loots their own neighborhood, businesses owned by people they know, they feel they have nothing to lose. They are disenfranchised to the point that they don't feel like they even live in the same country that they see on TV.

Two blocks from the looting last night are million dollar homes.

Police set up in front of Camden Yards but let rioters destroy their own neighborhoods.

People of all races were dragged out of cars and beaten.

The mayor was silent for five hours, appearing only to look beaten herself and call the rioters thugs.

Please don't misunderstand: I cannot condone anything that happened last night. But my endorsement or the lack thereof is not the point.

People keep quoting MLK, to wit: "A riot is the language when people don't feel heard" (paraphrasing).

But it's more than that. Before they can open their mouths, rioters don't even feel seen. It's The Invisible Man all over again. It's black men disappearing. It's an entire race of people excommunicated from the business of life by the color of their skin. Before we judge the actions of a few (and it was only a few, in relative terms) imagine what you would do if everyday you were told you were inferior and not worth anything, both implicitly and explicitly. Chances are good you can't begin to imagine it. If you are reading this blog (and even as I am writing this blog), you have privilege that is so ingrained it doesn't even feel like privilege. It just is.

Unless and until we can pretend to put ourselves in the shoes of others for just a moment to imagine that they love their children just as much as we do...

Unless and until we are committed to the success of everyone, not as a handout, not as a hand up, but as a journey that we take side-by-side...

Unless and until we are as invested in the future of the whole country, not just a select few...

Nothing will change.

It's not a conservative vs. liberal thing. It's not Christians vs. Muslims. Or us vs. them. It is us vs. our own humanity. Are we humans? Are we separated from the animals by our compassion and ability to reason? Can we not see that this is an issue that goes beyond throwing money at a problem?

Buying a house on a block of abandoned rowhouses is not the solution.

More testing in school is not the solution.

More death and violence is not the solution.

The solution requires nothing less than a cultural shift in attitude on both sides. It almost requires a do-over, a wiping of the slate. When you burn something down, you can live in the ashes, assemble a crude structure to keep the rain off but that will probably fall down again, or build something to last.

Unless and until we get to the core, address the institutionalized nature of deeply held prejudice and remedy the wrongs on both sides, our flimsy structure will come crashing down around our ears. Maybe not in a year or five years or ten years, but maybe today. Or tonight.

We are not these riots. Are we?

(image source)

 

Friday, April 24, 2015

What's Wrong With Baltimore

Baltimore

So I just spent a solid 15 minutes reading this Reddit on the dirt bikes of Baltimore. Specifically, the douches who ride around in packs in the city, running red lights, popping wheelies, and intimidating drivers and pedestrians (and police).

And this past Wednesday as I drove up The Alameda near 33rd to pick up my kid from City, I looked to the left and saw two boys fighting in the door way of a church. A group of about 20 kids had formed around the two and were laughing, screaming with bloodlust, and filming with their cellphones. Nobody stopped to help, no police were around, and eventually the boy who was literally pounding the other boy just stopped, shoved him away, and the crowd dispersed.

I find myself struggling to love my city this week.

It's not because of the dirt bike gangs (the 12 o'clock boys) themselves, although I can't say that I love the idea of being pummeled by one of these dudes for daring to drive on the same road (which apparently has happened).

And it's not necessarily because of the issues surrounding the police, although it's hard to love a group which continues to systematically break the law, exhibit extreme racial bias, and then hide those who perpetrate heinous crimes.

It is because of the seeming impossibility of the problem, the hugeness and complexity of the issues underlying all of the racial, social, financial, educational, and artistic divides in the city.

The Reddit post linked a New York Times documentary on the 12 o'clock boys, and at the end of the short film, one of the people interviewed talks about how the 12 o'clock boys are free when they are riding. It's like they can escape from everything; it's deeper than just fleeing the police or breaking the law. The footage shows the gang riding through deserted streets of boarded up houses, trash flying through the air and graffiti everywhere (not "street art," just spray-painted tags on plywood, territory marked just as if the tagger had lifted a leg and pissed). In this way, leaning back on the wheels of a (sometimes stolen) dirtbike, only in this way, did the commenter feel free.

To my little middle class white girl self, it feels hopeless. It looks hopeless. I imagine that if the only way out is to fly through the streets of the city of one wheel, tossing a fuck you over your shoulder as you pass cop cars and stunned pedestrians, then you might take that way out if you are desperate enough.

In a city where snitches get stitches and old men are beaten because they ask kids to pick up a piece of trash they dropped, it's hard to feel the love. It's hard to feel free. It's hard to feel hope.

It's easy to avoid or ignore the problems of this city until it isn't. Then what? The city schools suck (especially in poorer neighborhoods), there is a cultural issue surrounding trash and litter, gentrification is taking over historic neighborhoods, causing financial hardship, the police force has no relationship with the community, and the future looks hopeless for many kids. Violence is shrugged off (the fight I witnessed had a crowd of about 20 kids, laughing and clapping and surrounding the boys), jobs are scarce and ill-paying, and graduating students (or dropouts) join their parents on the street corner.

I lived in New York City briefly in 1989, the year the term "wilding" was coined. Shortly after I moved, the city began a decades-long effort to clean up the city - of crime and also of trash. They did it by targeting drugs and guns, and now the Big Apple is one of the safest cities in the country. New York was one of the first states to decriminalize marijuana, freeing up resources to go after bigger drug issues.

New York City also chose to focus on education reform. As the largest public school system in the country with the responsibility of educating over one million kids, New York City public schools boast some of the best (and some of the worst) schools in the country. Lotteries for high-demand charter schools can decide whether or not a child gets a chance in life. The system has the largest per-pupil spending rate (nearly $20,000 per student) or any system in the country.

When Baltimore talks about improving the city, most conversations center on pleading with middle-class families to stay and addressing blight, the entire blocks of boarded up houses that turn into dens of drugs and violence.

But it's more than housing. It's more than trash. It's more than education. It's more than a new coffee shop, a safe corner.

Has anyone ever developed a relationship so deep with some of the 12 o'clock boys (or other hopeless, inner city youth who are headed towards becoming just another a stereotype) that they could ask them what they would do if they could do anything? I imagine from the very beginning as small children they realized that dreams and imaginings were not part of their lives. Dangling a $12 an hour job (if that) and a roach-filled Section 8 house in front of someone who could make  a week's salary in one hour on a street corner, then informing them that they can work this same mind-numbing job for the next 30 years when they may or may not have a pension to retire on in a neighborhood they may no longer be able to afford isn't going to cut it.

My kid is looking for a job in the next few months. She won't make much, but she knows there is value in this act of employment. She knows because she has examples, she has seen it in me and Dane and all of the people around her. She knows $12 isn't much but it's a start, and it all starts somewhere.

From the very beginning, half of the city of Baltimore isn't really considering how it starts. They are just wondering how it will all end.

It's hard to be at home with this discontent, even if it doesn't reach me directly in my small circle. I can't abide throwing away an entire population of people, and yet that's what we are doing: gentrifying from the Harbor out until we are financially, racially, and socially segregated. I don't know what the answer is. I just know that if we don't seek out solutions and go deeper than flipping some rowhomes and starting a community garden, nothing will get better. And that's what's wrong with Baltimore.

(photo source)

(also, mad love to an essay in The Baltimore Chop which prompted this blog and these thoughts.)