Hail to the Blogosphere

I want to thank anonymous for posting a reply to my previous post. He or she help me realize that my language had not been precise enough and I hadn’t given enough back story to why I think that Willie B. Cochran’s election win, coupled with a win for Dorothy Tillman, would spell disaster for the Washington Park community in face of the impending Olympic stadium construction. So here goes. And thanks anonymous, and I hope you post again soon!


There is little evidence that big time events such as the Olympics or stadium construction have tangible economic benefits for the communities they impact. There are 3 reasons for this:
People ignore the reality of substitution when they claim that 500 million or 600 million or some gargantuan sum of money will be spent on the event or at the stadium. Families have fixed leisure budgets. Money spent on the Olympics or inside a stadium is money not spent on other leisure events or outside the stadium
The jobs created by stadium construction, the Olympics, and further stadium events will likely be seasonal, temporary, low wage, high turnover dead end jobs, unless the community mobilizes to make it not so.
The large amount of public funds (150 million from the city and 150 million just pledged by Rod “Don’t Stop Spending” Blago of state funds) used for such projects are generally diverted from more income generating activities or social services.
Losing the Great Meadow of Washington Park is a significant loss for the Washington Park community and the greater Mid-South community. That area is home to baseball, soccer, and cricket leagues, is used for summer festivals such as the Bud Billiken parade, and is an important recreational asset for as strained community. As one South Sider told me, “you take away that space, you’ll see crime double in this neighborhood.”
Dorothy Tillman has shown no skill in parleying large projects (Harold Washington Cultural Center, Jazz District, Federal Empowerment Zone) into community benefits.
While TWO started off as an organization seeking to challenge the status quo (including the university I ambiguously attend) to benefit Woodlawn residents, it has morphed into a social service organization more interested in partnership and “playing the game” then confrontational politics. As anonymous noted, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I can’t believe that TWO and the alderman that came out of its ranks is going to be able to challenge the Mayor to provide real community benefits for the Olympic project. This the Mayor’s baby, his legacy, the way he can “go out on top.” An organization that has donated money to his campaign is unlikely going to be able to part ranks with him if the benefits aren’t there.
It’s also not like there aren’t multiple construction projects going on in Woodlawn and Washington Park. The University has faced little pressure to ensure (for example) that its massive construction along 61st Street accrues real benefits to Woodlawn residents. Minority contract stipulations do not necessarily act as a proxy for local community benefits.

So that’s my worry. April 14th (I think) is the big day, and I’m not looking forward to it. Either we find out that Chicago is in the running, and we’re in for a long hard slog to get community benefits, or we find out that we’re not good enough for the Olympics.

Sigh

Peace

Shiny and New

(Editor’s Note: The monk is back. Postings will now regularly occur on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Stay tuned for a redesign/upgrade guided by Mike Doyle of chicagocarless.com )

Living in Hyde Park and moving through the mid-South side brings concrete reality to lofty phrases like urban renewal and redevelopment. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been impressed with the architectural beauty of certain blocks out south and how many times I’ve seen a cookie cutter cement block condo complex rising next to an abandoned brick masterpiece. I just had the good fortune of reading Richard Nickel's Chicago: Photographs of a Lost City by Richard Cahan and Michael Williams. The beautiful buildings Nickel was unable to prevent from being reduced to photographic memories and rubble stunned Sarah and I. Somewhat fittingly, I was reading John Teafords, Rough Road to Renaissance, a book about the history of urban redevelopment from the 1940s on at the same time. I was struck by the cult of newness that seems to have shaped American urban society since at least the 1940s. Cities began their decline because folks were tired of the grey or brown bricks of Louis Sullivan masterpieces and longed for shiny new Mies van derRoe monstrosities. I know I’m not the first to point this out, but the drive for newness that has removed some of Chicago’s most beautiful and unique buildings from its skyline and neighborhoods is something of obsession in American life and public policy. Public housing having problems? Tear it down. Hurricane Katrina reveal problems of race and spacial segregation in American cities? Let’s tear it down and start over. Relationship not working out? Drop her like it’s hot.

Renovation, renewal and rehabilitation are harder, sometimes more expensive and lead to unpredictable results. And I certainly don’t want to give into the conservatism of the past. But there’s got to be some way to overcome this American obsession with newness and all its destructiveness.

The Best Pizza.. in Chicago(land)

I've decided that I've got to live with the fact that pizza is not an ontological category. It can be adapted to different cultures, can have different ingredients, styles and forms and still be fundamentally pizza (I will still never eat a Hawaiian pizza, though). Chicago has a pizza tradition that I guess is a old and storied as New York's and I live here, so I've got to get used to it. I've also decided that I've had the best pizza in Chicago(land), even though I haven't eaten everywhere.

The gold standard for pizza in my mind is either Gino's in Rockville Centre or Vincent's in Lynbrook, but that may just be for nostaglia reasons. Regardless of the effects of the glow of memory, I often grave the 16in flopply gooey goodness of a good New York pizza. This craving can not be cured by Giordano's, Home Run Inn, Bacci's, Gino's East, Edwardo's, Aurelios, Rosati's, Pizzza Capri or other pizza joints here in Chi-city and the 'burbs. And while my favorite pizza in Chicago(land) is not a thin crust masterpiece like Vincent cooks up, its darn good. It's similar to Edwardo's in that it's not the giant tilt your jaw open pie of Giordano's, but not the square cut thin crust of Aurelio's or Home Run Inn. Luisa's on 139 and Cicero (yes Mike Doyle that's actually in Chicagoland) in Crestwood.

The crust: fantastic: crunchy, buttery, like a good pan pizza from Pizza Hut, only 50 time tastier and more consistent

The sauce: deliciously different: sort of sweet, but not cloying (Yes, my food reviewing skills could use some work).

The cheese: it's pizza cheese, come on, you know it's good.

It's a trek to Luisa's from Woodlawn, and so we don't go that often. Our car happened to be getting fixed at the wonderful J & J Auto Rebuilders on 137th in Crestwood (I hope you never need for their services, but if you do, they are incredible kind and excellent at their jobs). Two blocks away: Luisa's, were a grouchy old Italian lady (Luisa) will move you along with your take out order if you're watching the TV too long. We've done takeout, eaten at the place (great and attentive wait staff: although they do cocktail glasses for their sodas, not a fan), and generally love it.

The best pizza in Chicago(land). Luisa's. Here's metromix's and roadfood.com's take on it.

Peace

Three Gritos for La Villita

Last night was the “Grito” a party in celebration of Mexican Independence Day. Mike Rodriquez took myself and two other SSAers down to 26th Street to participate in the annual cantina crawl put on by members of the community. I’m not sure where I would rank it on experiences I’ll save on my mental hard drive for eternity, but halfway through the night, I found myself shaking my head in wonder at my good fortune.

Crammed into a corner bar on 26th and Lawndale was the entire progressive Mexican leadership of Little Village. Chewy Garcia of LVCDC and a veteran independent politician in Chicago was greeting people at the door. Jamie De Leon, the NCP organizer for Little Village was smiling more than I’ve ever seen him before. The last great hope of the Little Village Violence Prevention Collaborative was telling me he loved me. Young, 1st and 2nd generation, college educated, progressive activists were getting down to some of the best live Latin jazz I’ve heard in a long time.

And Alderman Munoz, perhaps the most progressive and independent alderman in Chicago was buying me a beer.

26th Street has always been for me the grown up and responsible older brother of 18th Street in Pilsen. It doesn’t have the trendy art galleries, bars, book stores and night life. It’s the place you go to buy groceries, clothes for your kids and have tacos. 26th Street last night was alive with the pride and strength of the Mexican immigrant community in Chicago. Cars and pick-ups filled with people waved the Mexican flag shouting and honking at each other and pedestrians. The less fortunate rode by on their bikes and rang bells or clown horns. Gang bangers donned non-color coordinated clothes and mixed into the crowd.

And in Jacaranda, the best and the brightest, the strongest hope for an end to the violence tearing the community apart and an independent small-d democratic politics in the City of Chicago were all getting down to Oye Como Va and My Cheri Amor latin style.

When you step out of your comfort zone and the fixed paths given to you by society because of your privilege, skin color or class, life is beautiful.

Viva Mexico! Viva La Villita! Viva la gente luchadora!

You are Not Here

Check out the pictures on Chicagocarless.com of the new maps inside Marshal Fields soon to be Macys.

Problem 1: It’s Randolph Ave? It’s Washington Ave? Since when?

Problem 2: You are not actually where they claim you are.

Problem 3: Where’s the information desk? You know, the place to go to make complaints and ask questions? Not there.

When Mike of chicagocarless and I walked through Marshal Fields, we were cutting through to get to his hallowed home at Marina City to pick up a camera for a work assignment and to see how the transition from Chicagocentric icon to New York transplant was going.

Apparently not so well. It seems that Federated in lieu of hiring a proofreader stocked up on bright red markers. What makes Chicagoans like myself most nervous about a local icon being converted into a franchise of a national chain is what Federated has avoided so far: the downgrading of an important local institution into a excessively profit driven outpost of faceless corporatism. Marshal Fields, the store, the man, the family and the Marshal Fields Foundation have long histories of supporting community development and organizing efforts in Chicago. (some of Saul Alinsky’s earliest work was financed by Fields IV). Federated seemed to be making strong steps towards the goal of maintaining and improving the viability of a local institution. You would think the internal store maps would be a simple detail.

Apparently not.

This is the embodiment of every Chicago-centric anti-Macy-ite’s worst nightmare. From the day it was announced that Marshall Fields would become Macys, the whispers were of the tolling of the funeral bells for a Chicago icon.

You know, if they can’t even get the street names right or the location of their own information desk, maybe the doomsayers were right.

The transformation of the bulk of Chicago’s commercial areas into Anytown Strip mall is entering its endgame.

There’s always Woodfield Mall, I guess.

Peace

Providence at Provident

For those of you who read my blog who aren’t related to me (that might just be you Mike Doyle), I haven’t posted because my wife just gave birth to our second daughter Anastasia Patricia on August 15th. I’m not so into the networld that I had to do an immediate post to show the world our beautiful little girl, I did it by phone and e-mail. And no, I’m not such an exhibitionist that I have to post pictures of her, either.

But I do want to give much love and respect to the staff of Provident Hospital of Cook County. Because of the University of Chicago Hospital’s decision not to take our form of insurance, we stumbled upon Provident in the hopes of merely getting a pregnancy test to qualify for Illinois’ All-Kids Program of mother-child health insurance. Turns out that Provident is one of the few hospitals in Chicagoland to offer nurse-midwives in their maternity unit. That, plus the friendly staff’s assurance that we would not have to pay out of pocket to deliver our child made Provident the obvious choice.

Provident is a public, Cook County Bureau of Health Services system hospital. Sarah and Anastasia were quite possibly the only white patients. The physical plant of the hospital is not state of the art and the cafeteria is not gourmet. It is clearly an underfunded and overburdened health care institution. With all that being true, we could not have asked for a better experience. The midwives were extremely competent and caring. The nurses were excellent. The support staff, such as the security staff, dietary services staff and just about everyone we ran into throughout the corridors of the hospital combined competence and exemplary customer service skills. I left Provident feeling extremely blessed by a group of people dedicated to providing top-notch service in a challenging environment.

As we near the Cook County Board election and budget battles, I want as many people to know as possible that the money (not) lavished on Provident is money well spent.

Peace

Police Brutality in Chicago

The tepidly worded report from the special investigators looking into allegations of police torture on Chicago’s South Side during the 1970s and 1980s came out yesterday to no one’s satisfaction. It’s too wishy washy to satisfy victim advocates. There is a stunning lack of both verbal and prosecutorial imagination in the report. Is there really no way that any legal action can be taken against Burge and the others named in the report? I don’t pay a lot of taxes, but it is somewhat painful to know that $40,000 of Chicago taxpayer dollars goes to support a portly bachelor living in Florida who is likely guilty “beyond a reasonable doubt” (the report’s wording) of torture and negligence in at least 3 cases. In some cases, prosecutorial imagination is necessary to at least provide the veneer of justice done. As Eric Zorn says in the Tribune this morning: “[The reports] fails as an effort to "put this to rest," as Boyle said the report had done. Without the language of anger, regret and even shame to surround the voluminous facts, the stain remains.”

This stain is not just the emotional and physical effects on the individuals directly affected by the torture. The details of these cases were long taken as fact in the African-American community and have contributed to a deep mistrust of the police and public officials in the community. I can’t tell you how many times my African-American former gang member co-workers have told groups or individuals that the gang life is just an extension of the corrupt politics of the city of Chicago. The difference is that they have the veneer of legality and don’t get their hands dirty.

But it goes deeper than that. Underneath it all is a disturbing answer to the question, why haven’t African-Americans “made it” in American society and why is the ‘hood so bad? Neighborhoods like the Woodlawn, Washington Park and Englewood communities that surround my home were once middle class white neighborhoods. African-Americans “moved in” and the neighborhoods “went downhill.” There exist a multiplicity of historical reasons for why this happened, but the general answers in the body politic today are welfare dependency and “culture.” A variant of this question, why is the Latino community in Chicago so organized, mobilized, active and led by strong leaders while the African American community is not has preoccupied us in the McCormick Tribune Fellows Program.

Answers like culture, welfare dependency, or “sell-out leaders” are ultimately dissatisfying because they do not pass the “Archie Bunker test.” A plausible answer would look to African American communities in the early 1970s before the scourge of crack hit the streets. These communities (including those in CHA housing projects) were organized, mobilized, active and led by strong leaders. One by one those leaders (like Fred Hampton) were killed, marginalized, or co-opted by the machine. Efforts to organize and create change were resisted strongly by the powers that be in City Hall. White politicians did everything they could to steer city funds to their wards at the expense of black ones. And the police were brutalizing young black men. Top it off with Harold Washington’s untimely death in office and you have the recipe for disillusionment and nihilism.

You can’t analyze the current situation of the inner city or propose solutions without dealing with this reality. It’s not something people can just “get over.” Little about how Chicago or America has treated its ex-slaves engenders hope or trust.


Links to some of the coverage:
http://www.suntimes.com/output/news/cst-nws-burge20.html
http://blogs.chicagotribune.com/news_columnists_ezorn/2006/07/the_final_word_.html

Peace

Another Post From An Overheated Chicago Resident

It’s days like today that make one wish for the leafy suburbs.

The heat index in Chicago today is predicted to be 105 degrees or so. That’s not a disaster for those who have air conditioning or live right by the water. But for those who live on the third (top) floor of a brick building with no A/C whose front windows face west to the afternoon sun, it’s a bit of a crisis. Last night I slept on my couch with my feet in buckets of cold water. Felt very Cannery Row or The Jungle-esque. I actually look forward to the doors of the Green Line train opening and letting out their blast of Freon-cooled air.

We spent the weekend in Peoria and the south suburbs. Let me say that green space makes a difference. Even the Midway was cooler as I was walking down it than the area around our apartment. I can understand now why earlier generations high tailed it out of their blazing, yet beautiful vintage apartments, row houses, and bungalows for air conditioned ranch homes in the burbs.

Not that I plan to do that, but since we can no longer sleep in the parks or at the lake front (like earlier generations of Chicagoans did) and since Al Gore says it’s only going to get hotter… it’s a tempting escape.

I’ll just have to sleep in the bathtub next time.

Fireworks rang out like a bell

My first night in Guatemala City way back in the more innocent pre 9-11 century, I drifted off to sleep to the subtle rat-a-tat-tat of what I assumed was small arms fire. In the morning, I was informed that what I actually heard was someone's birthday being celebrated at 2:30AM by lighting fireworks outside their door. Since fireworks were and still are illegal for New Yorkers without the surname Gotti, distinguishing fireworks from bullets was not one of my acquired socialization skills. But after living in Guatemala for four years, I eventually got it.

So now I live on the South Side of Chicago. I have the beautiful blinking light of a police camera creating a disco in my living room. I live a block away from one of the most poorly managed private low income housing developments in the city. And it's summer time. And I hear...
gunshots?

Fireworks?

Birthday celebrations?

Long live strange sounds in the night! Without it, urban life, rural life, jungle life would be too easy.

Peace