Passive Aggressive

I recently had a long overdue conversation with a lovely neighbor who also happens to be a new mother.

Not only are her real life I-just-had-a-baby stories eye opening, but they are Hilarious.

Laugh out loud, breaking into coughing fits HI-LAR-IOUS.

So because she has a new baby, a husband, and various animals around the house, I figure I'm not going to add to the burden by fulfiling my requirment as the "wacky neighbor down the street."

Dropping in unanounced when you're trying to put down a fussy baby may not lead to further social invitations.

Luckily a few days ago I had the priviledge to speak to the little mother and catch up on life and all things Woodlawn.

As we chatted she happened to mention that conflict resolution among her family tends to skew toward passive agressive tactics.

I paused on the other end of the phone and said "Passive agressive? And you live around black people? How's that working out?"

"Not so much." She replied.

As a rule, I explained, black folk don't really respond to passive agressive. You pretty much have to let us know what you want---hinting around isn't gonna make the magic happen.

A cultural exchange, neighborhood gossip and new baby stories all in the same conversation.

Flying Under The Radar

Clearly I have not been paying attention to the goings on in the neighborhood.

It might have been because I was (am?) putting my life back together after 11 months of unemployment (Note: Not as easy as one would think).

Or it might have been the brutality of this slow moving winter and my knee injury.

Or it might have been because my head may have been firmly ensconced up my ass.

Either way, I had no clue that there was (is) a gang turf war in our little patch of heaven.

At least I didn’t know until it erupted on Monday night resulting in the shooting death of a 15 year old.

While the violence was a shock, I was fully prepared for the negative comments that usually accompany the subsequent Tribune and Sun-Times stories about the incident.

Luckily, the Tribune disabled the comments section by the time I had read the article.

Perhaps they already knew the caliber of commenter and simply disabled the ability to comment from the beginning.

No matter how you feel, someone’s child is dead.

While the consequences that led up to that fact are important, at the very least you should err on the side of respect.

Yes, I understand that some people cause their own problems.

But a majority of comments on articles about urban crime are mean and tip toe right up the line of being racist.

So it was with this in mind that I steeled myself after reading the Tribune’s article.

But it was all for naught.

I will say this to you who feel that “some people,” specifically black people, don’t care about the communities where they reside.

Let me preface my statements by affirming that while I may speak for myself, I also happen to know a huge swath of other black folks who feel as I do.

Yes, we care about where we live even though some may not think so.

Yes, we call the police.

In my experience the places that are usually the worst on the block are owned by either people who live in the suburbs or well meaning social service agencies.

Ironic, huh?

So the suburban neighbor that you so enthusiastically great each day may be the single largest contributing cause to crime in any given neighborhood.

Go cluck your tongue and pass your judgments on them.

Because lax tenant screening + credit requirements + non-resident management = a recipe for disaster.

But what do they care?

They keep on getting money that supports their comfortable lifestyles in their practically crime free neighborhoods.

And these well meaning social service agencies are no better.

I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth so I very much understand people needing help.

So I know that a lack of financial resources does make you or your family bad people.

Yet because of the fact you or your family may not have the time or the resources to mount a time consuming, draining protest about issues in your neighborhood doesn’t mean you don’t care.

In fact, that’s what I think some dubious people look for.

They look for the people who are the hardest pressed and will squawk the least.

‘Cause it’s a hell of a thing holding down multiple jobs and/or raising children and/or staying on the straight and narrow AND trying to get people to do right by your neighborhood.

Trying to get long time institutions to respect where you live.

Trying to get landlords to treat your neighborhood with the same consideration that they treat their neighborhoods.

Trying to uncover the maze of LLC’s who illegally convert rentals to condos and leave them when they run out of money.

Trying to get the police to pay real attention to those no good thugs on the corner.

It’s exhausting.

If you let it, it can drain your essence.

Trying to fix something that has been broken for a long time takes patience and resourcefulness.

Rome wasn’t built in a day.

That’s a pretty tall bill for working class people who may not be well versed in how the city that works really works.

For those of you who can’t see beyond race, look up how UIC got built and get back to me.

So when I see these cowards hide behind a comment section and spout off about “why those people in that neighborhood don’t do anything” I know they have no idea what they’re talking about.

Because I know that I care about where I live---my neighbors do too.

Some things just fly under the radar.

Legacy

Parts of the entrie episode can be found here, here and here

Post Election Reflection

While President Elect Obama’s historic campaign brought out the worst in his opponents, I will say that his election last Tuesday brought out the best in Chicago.

I have never seen that much order and love among a large diverse crowd at a public gathering ever.

Makes you kinda wonder what else Chicagoans could do if we overcame the bullshit and ugliness and came together.

And while we’re on the topic, nuts to those doom and gloom naysayers and scared rabbits that left the city with a quickness on Tuesday.

Those who said that no matter what the election outcome there would still be rioting on the streets.

It’s nice to know that we proved them wrong.

A small aside to my African American brothers and sisters:

While President Elect Obama is an impressive figure, do not place ALL of your hopes and dreams on his shoulders.

While he serves as an inspiration of what hard work and determination can do, he is not the only Black person who can achieve in this country.

Let me reiterate that point: He is not the only Black person who can achieve in this country.

I’m not sure why some of us need this stunning example to underscore this point but hey---whatever works.

You don’t have to give me that look---I know the deck is stacked but like President Elect Obama you’ve got to be three times as good (Read: Extremely Qualified) and run a tight campaign.

Oh yeah---and build a coalition.

On that note I just want to put a few things for your consideration on the table:

Can we start respecting each other and the places where we live just a little bit more? Picking up trash really doesn’t take too much time, really.

Is it possible that we could stop killing and poisoning one another? When I say poisoning I mean drugs and drug dealing.

Now here’s the tough one---Can we start holding community and elected leaders accountable for their actions?

Since Black people were usually on the short end of the stick when it came to inclusion in this country, it seems like we fell for the heady promise of someone who happened to look like us being in power.

From Hatcher in Gary, to Coleman in Detroit, to Barry in D.C.----dreams were realized but at a heavy cost.

Each of those leaders had the best of intentions, but reality was quite a different kettle of fish.

Black folks were a little new to the game. We didn’t know 40 years ago that you have to build coalitions in order to preserve the tax base which in turns pays for the cops, the fireman and the teachers.

But we know that now.

So the moral of my little tale is we have no permanent friends, we have no permanent enemies but we do have permanent interests that have yet to be effectively served by some of those in power.

To that end, call ‘em on the carpet.

Not only the politicians but the absentee land and property owners---one person (or a group of people) can make a difference.

Yes we can.

Truth Tellin'

It’s time for some truth telling.

I’ve been noticing some things while walking around the ‘hood and it’s time to call it like I see it.

Traditionally, we all know Black neighborhoods in Chicago have been largely ignored by local government.

This shouldn’t be news.

Yet the thing that chaps my hide is how some people just don’t respect their own neighborhood. How they’ll just throw trash just any which-a-way.

Frankly speaking it just pisses me off.

You practically have to pull teeth around these parts to get people (or institutions) to do right.

I’m sorry, strike that----my alderman is a rock star.

Leslie Hairston is a huge reason why our little stretch of paradise looks as good as it does. And truth be told I’d wager Alderman Cochran has chimed in a time of two to make the magic happen.

I don’t know for sure but I’m just saying…

Nonetheless, no measure of governmental involvement can lift people out of a “ghetto mentality.”

Hell, yeah I said it.

Because that’s only way I can explain why someone who actually lives on my street would turn the parkway into their own personal trash can.

I don’t get why it’s so difficult for some people to pick up after themselves.

Then of course these are probably the same people who think its okay not to know where their children are at any given time.

We all know how successful that philosophy worked out around here.

My point is that when something goes wrong in the ‘hood the wailing and gnashing of teeth begin.

Community activists come out of the wood work and “demand” governmental accountability.

Well I have a news flash for you.

Why don’t those activists as well those members of the community hold each other accountable?
Why don’t we speak out as voraciously against shitty landlords who don’t perform adequate tenant background checks and rent to anyone with enough money (or government subsidy) that can afford their rent?

Why don’t we take the fight to them in their comfortable neighborhood as they make money off of ours?

And here’s the tough one.

Why don’t we try to convince the nice lady who lives down the street that her no account grandchildren who live with her do more harm than good to the neighborhood.

You know what I’m talking about.

Despite the fact no one wants to publically admit it, there’s always a home (or homes) on the block that harbors those asshole, layabouts who leech off of a family member and single handedly contribute to rise of crime.

Who bring their bootleg ghetto ass friends along with them and their collection of bad habits.

And when I say bad habits I mean felonious behavior.

I’m not advocating being unnecessarily nosy in people’s affairs but when the situation warrants questioning the status quo, you shouldn’t feel uncomfortable to do so.

After all closed mouths don’t get feed and bullets seemingly never hit their itended targets.

Turning a blind eye to the blatant foolishness that’s going on may one day come back to bite you in ass.

I know it’s not easy.

Nobody wants to be labeled as the self righteous Gladys Kravitz of the block.

But in this “Stop Snitching” atmosphere, perhaps it’s time to go back to some good old fashion community standards.

No I’m no going all conservative on you.

Then of course I don’t think our conservative friends have cornered the market on values and standards.

And no I could give a shit what two (or more) consenting adults choose to do in privacy of their home.

As long it doesn’t attract a negative illegal element.

As you see it’s a slippery slope.

My negative element could be your set of best friends.

The qualifier here is illegal. That’s the whole shooting match---if you’ll forgive the pun.

Ladies and gentlemen we’ve got to do better.

We must either individually or collectively hold those who seek to continue to marginalize our neighborhood accountable for their actions.

We have to want better neighbors who mind their children, throw their trash in the proper receptacles and live law abiding lives.

It’s not enough to hold an anti violence march.

We have to do better.

So the next time you’re up in arms at a CAPS meeting or find yourself thinking that the police aren’t doing enough to keep your neighborhood safe you need to reflect on what you’ve done to improve or eliminate a problems that surround you.

At the very least, you should at least be truthful with yourself.

News Flash!

Apparently Black people moving into your neighborhood isn't as harmful as once believed.

Right vs. Wrong

Apparently the presence of racism in America is news to some people.

The Opinion Page and this news story in yesterday’s Chicago Tribune seem to underscore this theory.

No shit Sherlock.

It seems that America’s dirty little secret is showing with the continued emergence of Senator Obama’s Presidential campaign.

Meghan Daum’s brilliantly insightful opinion piece cast the privilege of whiteness in a new light.

Apparently being White isn’t what it used to be. And the “wrong” type of White people aren’t too happy about this fact.

Yet among this renewed dialogue on race in our country a few things struck me as I watch this political and social drama unfold.

We all know Chicago isn’t exactly the Mecca of racial tolerance---there’s a reason it’s called the Mississippi of the north.

Frankly, the de facto segregation in this city is difficult to miss.

Nowhere is this segregation in plain view than where people choose to make their home.

And while I’m not trying to piss in the wind about this fact, I find it amusing that it’s the subtle behaviors, utterances and actions that let me know that this country has a long way to go before we reach a true racial understanding.

A prime example is when you live on the south side and choose to have a party; it’s interesting how some people will never ever accept your invitation.

And when I say some people I mean White people.

One of my neighbors and I were discussing this phenomenon while on our way to the Woodlawn Farmer’s Market last Saturday.

Its one thing to think that the whole of the south side is a cesspool but it’s quite another to think that someone you share a friendship or a workspace with thinks that you live in a cesspool.

So in the past, when some people would come to my home and remark about “livability” of my little part of Woodlawn I would reply to them “Where did you think I would live?”

“Livability” equals nice. Or at the very least not as ghetto as one would think.

My neighbor and I both decided that if you don’t want our free food and liquor, screw you.

Not that I’m in a financial position to have a party.

But make no mistake, when I get a job and knock down my credit card debt, I’m gonna have a blowout.

I also noticed an editorial cartoon in the April 3rd-9th edition of The Onion.

In the page 11 cartoon you see two panels----one that’s captioned “America When We Don’t Talk About Race” that shows a rural looking White family (I can’t only assume that from the overalls on the father), a beer mug holding Irishman, a Black man with the word “funky” spinning a basketball on his finger, a guitar playing Hispanic man and a Asian woman standing outside of a laundry.

I don’t have to point out the basic offensiveness of that panel do I?

Truthfully I don’t have a problem with that---I can’t go tilting at every windmill.

But the chafe comes in the next panel titled “America When We Do (Talk About Race)”

Chaos has erupted.

The rural father is in a Klan hood, the Hispanic man and Asian woman are fighting and the Irishman has a broken bottle in his hand.

Yet the image that strikes me as offensive is the one where the Black man has the rural mother by the throat---knife in hand ready for the attack.

Jesus take the wheel.

I’ve been doing this Black thing for a few years and like I’ve previously stated in order to preserve my sanity I can’t go tilting at every windmill.

The trick to being Black in America is brush the slights and insults off your shoulders. If you internalize too much you’ll be on a subway train shooting White people and blaming it on “Black rage.”

You also need a way to release the bullshit that’s heaped upon you seemingly everyday so you don’t blow.

I’m lucky---I have a blog that’s mine and mine alone so I can call it like I see it.

But my point, kind reader is that I always knew that White people took a dim view of us.

And when I say dim view I mean that in a “we’ll tolerate your existence until you step out of your place” type of way.

But at least I know where I stand with the “wrong” type of White people.

I won’t hear how they support diversity yet can’t seem to take a social trip south of Madison Street.

I won’t hear about how they don’t see color or think that racist attitudes are disgusting yet would illustrate a cartoon showing what seems to be the worst of White America’s fears.

Shockingly, to the “right” people race still matters.

The Enemy Within

If you’ve been a loyal and regular reader of this blog, you already know that I have little love for “investors” who buy into our happy home.

Plus it just burns my biscuits that someone makes our home their commercial enterprise.

As an association we’ve had trouble with “investors” before and we’ve luckily got those past issues under control.

Yet there’s always one pain in the ass. One person who has to keep it interesting and not make any attempt to be neighborly or abide by the minimal rules we have around this joint.

Ms. Realtor is that person.

Ms. Realtor is an owner of a unit that she rented out in the past and now has placed on the market

From what I understand she owes the association in excess of $1,000 in back assessments.

I get being a couple months behind---hey, we’ve all been there---but over $1,000?

Might I add she owes us this money AND she had the place rented out for a while. There was no good reason why she couldn’t of paid her assessments.

Moreover getting any type of meaningful communication out of her is like hitting your head against a brick wall.

So if her financial shit was hitting the fan, she at least could of given us a “heads up” on the assessment tip.

We understand that people have drama in the money department from time to time. No one is immune from that.

But from what I understand we couldn’t even get an odd e-mail much less the money that we’re legally owed.

So now it gets ugly.

If there’s not a lien on the property one will placed on it soon enough.

And in the interest of disclosure, one association member even threatened to go to one of the owner’s open houses and let her potential clients know about her deadbeat ways.
I personally think that’s going too far---but she already put it out there.

Why waste your time threatening someone and have a potential trespassing beef to deal with when there are so many other effective ways to get your point across?

I’m sure there’s some type of ethical violation that I’m sure the state real estate licensing board would be interested in hearing about.

But then again, maybe not; who knows? I’m sure someone is investigating that angle.

You see our bills can’t wait until the property sells in order to collect our money.

I can’t speak to Ms. Realtor’s motivation for not paying her assessments but in the past, when we’ve found ourselves in this same situation we’d often get the “We’ll pay when the property sells” line.

Well that’s all fine and well until no one has any hot water to shower with because People’s Energy hasn’t been paid.

But investor’s don’t worry about that because they don’t live here.

Past experience has also taught me that the people who try to take advantage of us usually tend to look like us.

Or at the very least they’re people of color.

Our developer, the deadbeats, Maurice Cousin---all the people who broke dirty with this association happened to be black.

Sorry to get all Bill Cosby and air out our laundry but---if you’ll excuse the pun---let’s call a spade a spade.

While I could go on forever about black on black relations, it’s easier to compare it to Don Imus getting fired for calling the Rutgers women’s basketball team a bunch of nappy headed ho’s and Isaiah Thomas explaining in a deposition when a black man refers to a black woman as a bitch it may be less offensive than a white man referring to a black woman as a bitch.

We’ve swatted down a whole bunch of Isaiah’s in the past, I hope Ms. Realtor doesn’t turn out to be another.

I have seen the enemy and it is us.

Touristas

I swear both of these conversations happened when I was at my usual watering hole last night:

“You're African American and a woman---do you know Oprah?”

Later on in the evening a nice lady from Kentucky said

“Do you know Oprah?” “Is she still with her boyfriend? What’s his name?”

Twice in one night---that’s a record for me. I haven’t been mistaken for or been asked about Oprah in a few years.

So as a public service to people to those few people in the world who may not know it, not all black people know one another.

Moreover, people tend to surround themselves with others who share something in common with them. Aside from our color, Oprah and I really have nothing in common.

Let’s run down the checklist:

Oprah owns her own business, I don’t.

Oprah has allegedly purchased fabulous new digs on east Lake Shore Drive; my fabulous digs are in Woodlawn.

Oprah has vast real estate holdings; I own the house I grew up in South Bend.

Oprah has been in movies, I haven’t.

Oprah is estimated to be a billionaire, unfortunately I’m not.

Oprah has a jet, I don’t.

Oprah has been to the Oscars, I haven’t

Moreover she’s been to the Vanity Fair Oscar party and Mr. Carter has yet to send an invitation my way.

So as you can see the black woman thing will only take you so far.

While I’m sure if I ever met Oprah again we’d have something to talk about, it’s not like we run in the same circles.

So to make myself perfectly clear---I don’t know Oprah or Michael Jordan for that matter. And no, I don't know how to get tickets to her show.

Now stop asking.