"Gentrification"

I will admit first and foremost that I live in Hollywood, which I characterize as seedy, yet safe. Seedy in that it features a sizable population of down and out folks including homeless people, folks with substance abuse problems, folks who have come here to "make it" but currently have next to nothing, and others who are generally just trying to fly under the radar of society in a way that can really only be done in seedy places with "hotels" that rent rooms by the week on a cash basis. But safe, because since it is cheap, it also features a fair number of working-class immigrant families, and also because Los Angeles is heavily invested in keeping its #1 tourist attraction safe for the out of town buck, so there are cops all over the place.

So when I started looking for an apartment here, I knew I wasn't going to be living in the lap of luxury, which was completely fine with me--I'm generally uncomfortable in unfamiliar laps, especially luxurious ones. As a law student going to school at UCLA with a significant other working in downtown and living in Orange County, Hollywood was perfect: cheap but not dangerous, easy public transit commute to UCLA, and easy public transit commute to downtown and Union Station (and hence Orange Country via commuter rail). I was hoping for a decent place with a minimum of sketchy people, no bugs, no foul odors, and doors that lock.

Happily, I was quickly quite successful. My roommate and I found our current place in a small building. It's a small two bedroom (AND two bath...unexpected bonus), there's a cute little courtyard with lots of plants and a pool (which is almost never open, but at least it's nice to look at); the apartment had been completely redone since the previous tenants with new fake-wood floors & fresh paint; it didn't smell; and the building, with a mix of studios and 1 & 2 bedroom places, was a mix of mostly working class Latino families--some of whom had been there many years, a few solo older folks, a few younger white couples, and one unit occupied by someone who I think just uses it as their weekend affair pad (read: really fancy car only shows up on weekends once or twice a month); and the big coup for Hollywood: TWO PARKING SPOTS.

For the most part, I have liked it here. The apartment has been exactly what I've hoped for--cheap, utility apartment where I've been able to get comfy, easy transport around town.

But...

About a month or so after I moved in, things got weird. The apartment manager changed, and instead of the younger, tattooed couple managing the place, we got this awkward, skinny, older white guy. At the same time we all got letters announcing that there was to be no more hanging towels on the balcony railing to dry, no more bikes kept in common areas outside of apartments, typical attempted-gentrification-type stuff. Can't have this place looking low-class now, can we.

Then a few months in, said weird apartment manager approached me in the laundry room one day. He asked if I would be willing to testify against my neighbors, a Latino family with 3 kids, to get them evicted on account of noise. Keep in mind, I had not once complained about noise from this family. Yes, they generate some noise, but THEY ARE A FAMILY. And the building isn't exactly soundproof, so I can hardly blame them if their typical family noise travels into my apartment. Not only had I never complained about the noise, but it had never crossed my mind to do so. They never bothered me.

Being do-gooder law students, my roommate and I talked to them, and we heard the story we were afraid of. Most of the Latino families in the building were being harassed, bugged about things they had never been talked to about before in years. And one by one, we started to notice turnover, and a higher number of white residents and fewer Latino tenants.

We were bummed to realize that we ourselves were part of a wave of gentrification which was hitting the building.

In a society where people automatically view a high concentration of non-white people as a sign of poverty and lower class, naturally a high population of white people must be a sign of safety, higher class, and a more desirable place to live, right?

So let's see what this gentrification has gotten us.

Many of the young white folks that have served as part of this wave are young kids trying to get into "The Industry"...those people I mentioned before who are trying to make it but currently have next to nothing. I don't have anything against them for that. What I do have against them is that they play music all the damn time (both listening to it and playing it); they stand in common areas talking on their cell phones or to one another ridiculously loudly; they loudly bring equipment in and out of the building at all hours of the day; they have more late night get togethers; they smoke a variety of things in common areas of the building and leave their cigarette butts scattered about; they prop the secure outside doors open so they don't need keys; there is a markedly higher number of strange people I don't recognize coming and going through the building; while I haven't seen any critters, I just received notice that they are coming through to do a pest control spray, because one of the units now has bugs.

In general, it's just a less pleasant place to live. And Mr. Manager, the guy who was so concerned about the noise from the family next door (who thankfully is still there)? I asked him the other day about some of these issues. He said he was too busy to be "policing" everyone all the time, and I would just have to deal with it myself.

Yes. Gentrification. White is better, of course.

And certainly, we are in a post racial America.

Advice

If you are working with a team of people, especially if you have asked them to work with you on a project that will end up requiring much more of their time than they anticipated lending to you, be respectful of their time, and follow through on your responsibilities to them. Otherwise, people end up having days like I have had so far today.

[Quick backstory:
I am helping organize a rather large event at my school, a 3-day symposium with most of the top names in the academic field it relates to, with over 300 400 550 registered participants (which keeps going up because they did not put a deadline or cap on registration), about 100 volunteers, and about 200 presenters. My primary job is Cat Herding...aka Volunteer Coordination. This means that it's my job to keep tabs on what volunteers are supposed to be where, where more volunteers are needed, and to relate to volunteers what/where/when/how they are supposed to do things. This is all based on instructions, needs, requests, etc. given to me by people managing the various different aspects of the symposium. Today is Wednesday. The symposium starts tomorrow.]

Back to my day thus far:
After being up late last night working, I dragged myself to campus for an 8:00 symposium breakfast meeting and a later--unrelated--lunch meeting. Both of these meetings ended up being canceled without my knowing until I showed up to empty rooms both times. This meant that I came to campus about 10 hours before I needed to be here, with no food (because food was supposed to be at both meetings). Only one of the 11 other organizers has sent me the instructions for their volunteers in the various areas. I have not heard a peep regarding a job I intensely want for the summer, despite being told to check in with them if I had not heard anything by yesterday. (Which I did. Yesterday.) Nobody has replied to numerous questions and concerns I have sent out about this and other aspects of the symposium, despite one of them explicitly asking if we could meet this afternoon. In about 5 hours, I am training anywhere from 10 to 100 volunteers, except I don't really have anything to train them on.

And a bird dribbled poop on my head. And it's only 2:00.

Let's All Pause for a Moment

...and cry for Diddy, or whatever he has decided to go by this week. No, really--let's be sad for him. Forget the 47 million Americans without health insurance. Forget the people in the Gulf who couldn't even worry about their homes being washed away by Gustav because they were still living in FEMA trailers three years after Katrina. Forget the kids struggling in areas with impoverished tax bases that can't support adequate school systems, whose families don't have the luxury of turning to private school. Forget the 400,000 dead and millions displaced in Darfur. Forget the people starving in the midst of food crises throughout Africa and parts of Asia.

Yes, instead let's be sad for Diddy because he has to fly first class. I mean, I know when I was worriedly checking the news this morning to see what was happening in the Gulf, I quickly forgot all about such mundane matters when I saw this heartbreaking news.

And also, let's all be thankful to Diddy for settling the confusion over whether or not fuel prices had gotten really high. The millions of people struggling just to fill their tanks, let alone cope with the rising costs of all manner of goods and services, will be happy to no longer have to wonder.

Seethe

An acquaintance of mine is putting together a photography show, originally planned to be a display of queer female-bodied people in relationships. She started out with the expressed goal of showing couples of all kinds, combinations and identities.

I had thought LT and I would be a fun addition to the show. Not only would we be supporting a young photographer in her first show, but we are probably a fairly rare (at least rare in Pittsburgh) example of a couple comprised of two female-bodied people both with alternate gender identities. Unfortunately, by the time we learned about the show LT was gone from Pittsburgh, so half of the couple was missing.

After a little while, though, the photographer had some difficulty getting quite enough couples, and began including some individuals. So, I volunteered to be photographed, because I figured I could provide a unique subject that is a bit scarce in these parts, thereby allowing her to represent a wider range of identities in the show. She was grateful--she told me that the vast majority of people agreeing to be in the show were femmy, obviously female-identified people. She did have one other person who often performed in drag, but that was about it in terms of alternate expressions of identity.

Today, she called and said that she had decided not to include either me or the drag performer. Her reasoning was that all the other pictures were going to be of happy, smiling, romantic women, and these just wouldn't fit.

Really, just typing those words makes me fucking MAD!

I tried explaining to her that presenting with a trans identity wasn't all drum glum seriousness, that actually discovering this and being free to be who you are is a happy thing. I had actually very much been looking forward to being able to have representation of happy trans people--I would've been downright ecstatic if LT had been here and we could have had pictures of two alternately-gendered people happily being together.

It wouldn't sink in. She used the cop out that with just a few pictures of trans identities in the show, she wouldn't be doing them justice, it would be an insufficient representation of "the subject".

OK, so not representing trans people at all IS sufficient? It IS doing us justice? F that S. Seriously, if you want to do a photo shoot that is just women-identified people, that's fine--you're the artist, you have the right to put in your show whatever you want, and leave out whatever you want. But don't tout that it's an inclusive show to represent all varieties of identity, then leave out the ones that you're not comfortable with and don't understand. And then make it sound like you're doing us a fucking favor by leaving us out.

NOT.

COOL.

Up...Down...Up...Down...

To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Nothing like a few drastic ups and downs to really make your weekend.

Up! - This past week the California state supreme court ruled that laws banning same-sex marriage are unconstitutional, making Cali the second state to allow gay marriage. Such an amazing and stunning turn of events! One YouTube video in particular showed activists waiting for and hearing the ruling outside the courthouse...absolutely amazing and inspiring.

down - This past week was also the last week of my most senior writer at work. I'm left with me and two very junior writers who need a good deal of babysitting. My job is about to get really shitty, really quickly.

UP!- LT graduated this weekend from CMU. Seeing everything she did during just one school year--all the great people I've met through her, seeing the challenges she met, what she's achieved, it was a great thing to see her complete this step in her life. I can't imagine how proud I would be for her if I had known her all four years or longer. It also really got my juices flowing for school next year--recognizing the passion that I saw in the grads, especially the masters and doctoral candidates, and feeling that same passion for the road I'm about to go down. It's a great feeling, exciting and exhilarating. Combined with the recent developments in Cali, I am downright chomping at the bit.

down - Along with LT graduating, however, came the visit by LT's family to see her graduate and pack her stuff back off to DC. LT's family is great in a lot of ways--it's your typical big crazy family, fun-loving, sarcastic, funny and loud. They support LT so much in many ways, they are proud of her and care about her. In other ways, not as much, and for that reason, the two of us being around them is a bit of a strain. Especially with us likely being on opposite coasts next year, I know LT could really use the support and love of her family, the recognition of the importance of our relationship and the difficult times to come for both of us. We hold out hope that someday they'll be able to reach that place, but in the meantime, it's hard to see that they haven't.

UP! - Of course there's also been the Pens' spectacular post-season run. They hit a temporary glitch against the (fucking) Flyers on Thursday, but finished them off in fine fashion with a 6-0 spanking this afternoon, sending my boys to the Stanley Cup finals. I said a number of times earlier this year that there was no way they would make it this far, and have been very glad to be proven wrong. GJ, hope you're ready to make good on the promise of tickets for a Wings/Pens final!!

down - At the end of the game, I was looking out my door and realized something was missing from my porch. Namely, my bike. Locked up on my balcony, Bumblebee has taken one last trip to an unknown destination. I swear, I will never understand people who feel the need to take other people's stuff. Bye, Bumblebee.

I mean, I love roller coasters and all, but really...this is a bit ridiculous.

Grrrrrrrrrr

The entire four and a half hours in the car, driving through crappy half piss rain, all I've been thinking about is getting my ice packs for my sore and aching knees. I'm tired and drained from an emotional weekend. I get through the door and two staring cats remind me that I was supposed to get cat food before I came home. Back into the car.

I get home again, and see that a little more water has come into the bathroom from the upstairs apartment while I was gone (the night before my last weekend gauntlet, which I haven't had time to post about, my upstairs neighbor's toilet cracked, flooding my bathroom). Irritating, but not a big problem.

Finally, blessedly finally, I get to ice my knees. Ace bandages at the ready, I open the freezer to grab the cold gel packs...and am greeted by a waft of warm air.

The new used fridge that the apartment people just gave me last week (replacing the ancient non-self defrosting one that was here previously) has decided to shit the bed over the weekend. The fridge that I had just filled with food because I had gotten a nice new fridge is dead. Goodbye new bag of chicken. Goodbye cheese. Goodbye yogurt. Goodbye mayo and cottage cheese and frozen corn and microwave dinners.

AND NO ICE FOR MY KNEES! FUCKER!

Memo to the PA Senate Judiciary Committee

FUCK YOU.

http://www.postgazette.com/pg/08078/866089-100.stm

I'm not having a good enough day to say anything more constructive than that.

America's Next Top Role Model

I was at the gym yesterday, and had to grimace at the fact that the TV above the cardio machines was set to a marathon of America's Next Top Model. That's really just evil.

I'm not much of a reality show junkie, so this was the first time I'd actually watched this show. I had forgotten to bring anything to read, so I was held captive as I pedaled. Frankly, I was appalled. The episodes I saw focused a lot on one particular contestant who was derided as being overweight. Seriously? She was one of the last five or six contestants, and was skinnier than the vast majority of people I've met in my life. But the message that was slammed home throughout the hour was that she was just too fat.

I, and a lot of the people I know, are wise enough to see the ridiculousness and not take it to heart; but there are thousands of women and kids who aren't that savvy. They're seeing this woman who is skinnier than most of them will ever be, and being told that she is still too big! How are they supposed to live up to that? They're seeing her being treated as a friend by the other contestants, being supported and encouraged, then seeing these same friends mock and deride her behind her back as being heavy. What is that supposed to make them think about their own lives, their own friends, or how they should treat their friends?

Completely disgusting.

Eat More Fiber

Maybe one of these days I'll have time to make a real blog entry. In the meantime, let me share the theory I have developed from this week at work:

People don't eat enough fiber, so they end up using their brains as roughage and flushing them down the john.

It's not elegant, but it works for me right now.

Sad News...and, Media Mediocrity

I heard on the radio driving home from work today that they just found Heath Ledger dead in his apartment. I don't follow movies and such very often, but he was one guy that I usually really liked in movies. Not just his acting, although I did usually like what he did, but the little I saw about his personality. He wasn't always in the headlines with relationship drama or getting into trouble, and in a couple interviews I saw with him around the time of Brokeback Mountain he seemed really low key and down to earth. So, I'm pretty sad to hear that.

I have to comment, though, that I was just getting home when they said something on the radio, so I flipped on CNN to see if they had any more info. In addition to being bummed about the news, it was another ugly reminder of the current state of media these days; the coverage was idiotic. Asking the same questions over and over; asking about stupid, inane details that mean nothing ("The appointment he had with the masseuse, would that have been a regular thing?"); blathering canned phrases of shock, attempting to sound educated and serious; and just generally talking to hear themselves talk. Just as with all other big breaking news stories, digging for any bit of potential new info, no matter its questionable validity or relevance.

Still Hating After All These Years

OK, I decided last night when I was falling asleep that I'd make an anti-hating list. But the morning didn't work out that way, so I'm hating more instead. Ha. So there. Take that.

• I hate when you make plans with a bunch of friends and then they change the plans and everyone who was involved with the original plans is involved in the new plans except for you.
• I hate how many times the word "plans" appeared in that last sentence.
• I hate feeling like out of sight = out of mind for people who used to be my little family.
• I hate the Post Gazette website's new layout.
• I hate loving Pittsburgh but not being sure if I want to live here much longer.
• I hate it when I get to work and realize that I forgot to wash out my coffee cup on Friday.
• I hate my knees.
• I hate my shins.
• I hate when I get my hair cut and the hands of the guy who cuts it stink like cigarettes.
• I hate when whoever brews the coffee makes it weak and crappy.
• I hate when I drink too much coffee on an empty stomach.
• I hate when I feel like I'm not too far removed from where I was 4 years ago.
• I hate when I notice that someone has been stealing tissues from my box at work. Seriously? Stealing tissues??
• I hate that the people who are my good friends and who haven't bailed on me will read this and feel bad even though they shouldn't.

Haterade!

I spent most of yesterday in an uncomfortable environment, so at this particular moment I'm a hater. Even my usual calming routine of coffee at CTR didn't really help my mood...so, I know I'm hating because that is usually golden. Maybe it's because I couldn't get my bananas & strawberries and the accompanying Pamela Family fix. Fucking Labor Day.

Anyhow, here's a hater list for the moment, just to try to get some of this shit off my chest.

• I hate the hill going from Regent Square to Squirrel Hill. It's not steep, but something about that bastard is insidious. Maybe it's just because I always go up it in the morning when I'm still half asleep. (Then again, I admit that at the same time I love it.)
• I hate being in hostile territory without backup.
• I hate knowing that when my mom looks at me, she wants to see a daughter that was never there and that I will never be.
• I hate when people who I love and who I know are good at heart say ignorant and hateful things.
• I hate knowing how precarious a balance it is that keeps those ignorant and hateful things from being directed at me.
• I hate that there's a light switch in my apartment that I don't know what it does.
• I hate starting meds that fuck my shit up and make me simultaneously jittery and exhausted and I just have to hope I get used to them.
• I hate my astigmatism.
• I hate that the remote for my cable box turns on my theater system even when I don't want it to.
• I hate that I am painfully shy.
• I hate when people feel and act superior to other people.
• I hate times like this when I'm sitting here hating.

There you go. Have a spiffy day.

I am sad and disgusted

I generally don't put the same post on both of my blogs, but seeing this story has broken my heart, and I just have to.

Words cannot express the dismay and sadness. This girl was not just abused by her father, she was apparently abandoned by an entire neighborhood. All these people are coming out of the woodwork with stories of how terrible the situation was, how widespread knowledge of the abuse was. Where were they when they could have done some good?

One person could have opened their mouth and saved this girl. Instead they did nothing. They knew what was going on, and did nothing. They heard her screams, and they did nothing.

Now she stands held as an adult, for taking the only option she could see available to end her terrible pain. Unless the authorities rethink this one, she will be victimized yet again.

My heart is broken. My heart is crying and broken for this poor girl.

Please, read about this and take this story to heart. I hope nobody has to be confronted with such a situation, but if you ever find yourself in the same place as these people, I beg you, have the courage to do what is right. Too many children are helpless victims to the people who are supposed to care for them and protect them. You may think it's none of your business, or be afraid of getting mixed up in something. But you can be that child's hero. If the people with the knowledge and ability to save them don't, then no one will.