Who's Wrong?

Buddhist monk - Ajahn Brahmavamso

This infernal question is what I'm struggling with today, and everyday. For the answer there's a wonderful enlightening talk by Ajahn Brahmavamso that I'm listening to this very second - listen here.

The short answer, according to A.B., is, "If you're arguing, you're both wrong." And, "the one who's right is the one who says 'I'm sorry' first."

Urban Gravestones - Across the Border

These urban gravestones, photographed north of the Broadway Bed-Stuy border, come courtesy of Miss Heather from New York Shitty (many thanks Miss H.!):

Rock the House 8/22/65 - 12/26/92
Location: Hewes St.

in memory of a good friend
Location: South 5th St.

Loving Memory - Antonio 5/24/76 - 1/16/99 (23 years old)
Location: Ten Eyck St.

R.I.P. Ana Rivera
Location: Hewes St.

The Magical Shop

This is hands down, my favourite window in Bed-Stuy. First of all it's on the ground level and covered in dust, so it's easy to miss. But I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the treasures it contained behind the glass. It looks like a true magic shop - the kind where, if you went inside you might emerge from its depths at another time either 100 years in the past or 100 years in the future. Or if you did manage to come back out in 2009, if you returned to that street the magical shop would have ceased to exist - in fact people would swear it never existed to begin with.

Gone But Definitely Not Forgotten

Jose Orengo (1977-2001)
artist: Ariel Moreno

Three women left me some touching comments today about the memorial murals and r.i.p. graffiti of their loved ones that they found on my blog. The first was Sharon Orengo Watkins, who wrote about her brother Jose Orengo, who died of cancer, and whose gorgeous memorial mural I photographed last August:

I want to say Thank You for putting up this picture of my brother! It means a lot to me. I just found it. I was just hoping that you could correct some information. He was born in Dec. 10, 1977 and died December 4, 2001... he was 23. In case you want to know… it was done by Ariel Moreno from INKSPOT in Queens. Ari also drew this one [the attached photo]. Jose was loved by many many people… my father owned the store that serviced that community for many years… I hope that you can make a note of that.

DesiLou comments on the r.i.p. graffiti, now covered up, that I photographed in April last year about her friend Luis:

I don't even remember how I came across this website.. but I began looking through these pictures out of curiosity after I saw my brother's best friends mural "Rest In Peace Jose"... I kept scrolling down, and here it was.. R.I.P. Luis.. 5.06.07...
My god-daughters sister did this, after my childhood friend / boyfriend was killed.. I wish we could have made a better one, so that you can all see how handsome he was..
RIP Luis

And finally, Dora wrote about her brother Pablo, whose memorial mural I photographed in February of this year:

Hi. I'm Dora. Pablo, the name on the mural, is my little brother. He was 19 when he was shot on Myrtle Ave and Bedford Ave. You will find my nickname, Poocho, on the was w/ the series of names. I'm the second one. How these pics gone on here, I don't know. I'm shocked. An old buddy who used to live in NY just sent me this link and Thank you Sharon.

Pablo was not killed over a girlfriend either. The wall is a metal gate not wood (minor detail). Pablo was hanging out with Betziada and several other girls. This was at the time where every one owned a beeper. There was and still is a public phone Myrtle and Bedford. This is the phone everyone who hung out within our clic used. Well, one Friday evening Pablo and the girls were hanging out. The girls decided to yell at some guys or rather, nowadays the word is holla, and the guys stopped on the corner of M and B, a few yards in front of the phone. My brother was on the phone with his best buddy Ivan. Betzaida was over talking to the guys in the car. Ivan asked if Betzaida was there. Pablo said, "Yea. She just stopped some guys and is now talking to them." Ivan said, "Call her over to the phone." Pablo said, "Okay!" Pablo called her. The driver of the car came out and asked why my brother was disrespecting him. My brother tried to explain. The driver punched my brother in his face and the passenger came out of the car and shot my brother. My brother had no clue nor a chance to defend himself. My brother asked these girls to never call any guys over when he is hanging with them because he was always afraid something like this would happen. It did. My brother had no girlfriend and no chance to live out his life. He was a college student who was full of life and one hell of a funny character.

Well, thank you for posting his pic and for having an interest in his mural. His friends got together and decided to make this mural. It is falling apart; however, a new one is being thought up and maybe put up in the near future. :D He lived in the house right next to the picture.

Thank you Sharon, DesiLou and Dora for sharing your stories with me, I'm so very sorry about your loss. If anyone else knows the back stories to any of the other murals I've pictured, or have photographs of their loved ones from the murals that they'd like to share, please write me and let me know. I'm also glad to find out more about the artists who painted these murals. The above emails, full of love and heartbreak, are a clear indication of just how important these memorial murals are to our community and why they need to be preserved.

Hip Trash

This bodega took an active stance awhile ago to combat the trash problem on Broadway.

But this sign is new. I'm not sure if it's appropriated from one of the hipster fliers that now litter the poles around the Myrtle Station with increasing frequency, or if it was made especially for this trash can. And was it made by a hipster? Or was it made to appeal to hipsters? Is the trash free? Or is it free to toss trash in? The mind reels with the possibilities.

Missing: Formerly Feral Cat

"We took in a stray who just had tail surgery and kittens. She was feral and we domesticated her. If you have seen her or have her please let us know. She has had all her shots, wears a pink collar and is missing her tail. If you want to keep her please just call and let us know she is ok - we have her tags. Thank you! 646-884-2232"

Now that's love for you. Not only did these people take in this poor tailess cat, get her shots and domesticate her, but they're willing to let her go as long as someone else is willing to love her and take of her too. Since a couple of the numbers have been torn off this flyer, hopefully someone found her. But in case they didn't - above is the info.

The Secret Of My Success

Meet Giulietta, my secretary extra-ordinaire. As you might be able to tell from this snapshot of a tiny corner of my desk, my life is in chaos. I have trouble even getting started on my 'to do' list because I can't find the damn list. Enter Giulietta, originally from Barcelona, she spent some time with a vintage toy collector in Santa Fe, then on to our Brooklyn brownstone. Always cheerful, forever immaculately groomed and she knows shorthand. But the best part is that look in her eye, that cheeky, admiring, knowing look. "You're fabulous, Bella!" she exclaims. "Yes, you're absolutely right!"she says. "Brilliant, I couldn't have said it better myself." And with a wink, a saucy swing of her crossed leg in those platform heels, she pats her strawberry blonde hair and says, "Andiamo dahling. What are you waiting for? Let's go!" She perks me up and keeps me going. I don't know what I'd do without her. Everyone needs a Giulietta. Don't have one? You must get one today.

The message is LOUD and C l e a r

CARS KILL

DOOR BELL OUT OF ORDER PLEASE PRESS THE BIG RED BUTTON

BEWARE OF GUARD DOG (looks like an evil psycho guard dog)

ABSOLUTELY NO DRUGS

Today's Local News: SELL OUT

The art school I attended in Vancouver, at the time didn't give out degrees even though it was a four year program. They weren't focused on cranking out teachers, they were creating Artists. A true artist didn't need a degree - he/she just needed to find their own personal vision and express it. And when I graduated with my diploma in hand, I entered the world expressing my personal artistic vision and waiting tables. Selling shoes. Pouring beer. Cleaning toilets. Dancing on bar tops. Stuffing envelopes. Ordering office supplies. I never learned how to make money off my art. I shunned making money off my art. To do so was Prostitution. I wanted to be pure. I was no sell out. I was an Artist. A Starving Artist.

Now my art school gives out degrees. Now, as a forty year old parent on food stamps I've thrown my principles out the window. Two different people approached me about buying advertising space on my blog and I succumbed. Selling ad space on my blog or collecting food stamps? The choice is clear. And I have no shame. Penis enlargers, bunion treatments, cellulite creams, whatever. Bring it on. You got the money, I got the space. Scruples don't pay the rent or put food on the table. Of course it would be nice if I was able to advertise something I actually used or believed in. Or got a book deal with a 100K advance for that matter. Ah well, a girl can dream can't she?

Brooklyn weather: Warm and sunny.

Bed-Stuy Public Schools and the Wild West

P.S. 54 Samuel C. Barnes School
This school which borders Clinton Hill actually gets relatively high marks on insideschools.org. However that was a 2004 review. The long time prinicipal who was a driving force at that school and the reason it got such a great review in the first place, retired in 2005. No new review has been done since then.

While the school we're zoned for, P.S. 81 Thaddeus Stevens School, although receiving high marks from the D.O.E. last year, was placed on a list of failing schools in 2004:

In 2004, the school was placed on the state's list of "Schools In Need of Improvement" for math, and this has put it in a bind. Under the federal No Child Left Behind law, a school on the list is considered failing, so students there are allowed to transfer. But the federal government does not provide additional funding to improve the school until it fails for a second year in a row. "The option they are giving me is that my best children can go, but they don't give us any [resources to improve]," says [principal] Ault. "They want the school to fail, and then give extra help."

And then, aside from a 2007 report that indicated there are six sex offenders living within a two block radius of P.S.81, I just discovered that in 2005, the DEA and the NYPD closed down a major crack cocaine ring run from a building across from this school. Although what goes on outside of the school has nothing to do with the school itself, it really doesn't make me want to send my child on a daily basis anywhere near that area of our hood.

During my recent chat with Robert Cornegy Jr., he called the public school situation in Bed-Stuy the 'wild west.' This was in response to my dismay that the good charter schools in our neighbourhood had a focus on discipline rather than something more progressive, the arts for example. He said that the pendulum had to swing all the way to the discipline side and that had been needed in Bed-Stuy and that the stellar results of schools such as Excellence Boys Charter School, showed that a focus on discipline was working. And that given time, the pendulum could swing back to something more moderate/progressive in the future.

Anyway, we got lucky with the Manhattan charter school that Little Joe attends. Seven of the parents whose children were given kindergarten acceptance letters, declined their place at the school and the school's wonderful administration is so intent on getting all 17 of us who were shunted out due to being out of district, back in, that they're just going to increase their class sizes.

One thing I'll say about all this recent school drama, is that crisis does bring people together. I've gotten to know the parents at my kid's school much better during these weeks that we've been protesting and letter writing than I had at any other time during the school year. Kind of like when I was at the library today and this skinny young white punk guy was passed out cold against the bookshelves, expensive open laptop computer on the table in front of him, iPod earbuds stuck in his ears, mouth gaping open. Several librarians attempted to rouse him by poking his shoulder and banging books on the table to no avail, then they called 911. All of a sudden all the strangers at the library started chatting trying to figure out whether he was dead or not. Yes, nothing like unity in crisis.

123 Community Space Faces Possible Eviction!!!

123 Community Space at 123 Tompkins Ave. was started a couple of years ago by four activist groups. They are a prime example of how to gentrify in the right way - by becoming part of the community and giving their time and energy to make our neighbourhood a better place. They now have a variety of programs including:

an after school program, a free bike workshop, a screenprinting studio, political prisoner letter-writing dinners, an anarcha-feminist group, and Food Not Bombs. We also host a lending library with radical media, as well as many special events including benefit brunches on the first Sunday of the month, open mics on the last Friday of the month, and swap meets on the last Sunday of the month.

not to mention the Kalabash Food Co-op. And now they're being threatened with eviction. No one seems to know why as they pay their rent on time. At any rate they're not giving up without a fight. Yesterday they went to court with the 'evil landlords,' and the judge set a trial date for June 11th. For more details on their battle and to keep on top of what's to come, follow their eviction blog here. Let's hope for the sake of our community, that the evil landlords don't win.

My First Election

This American eagle is faded, under construction, and sits on a chipped pedestal next to a full trashcan.

The race for the 36th District City Council Seat is off and running. It seems only fitting that my first election ever as a virgin voter and newly naturalized American citizen will be for the council seat in my newfound home of Bedford-Stuyvesant. So far the candidates are: Mark Winston Griffith, Robert E. Cornegy, Jr., Saquan Jones, David Grinage, Robert Waterman, William Carrington, Aaron Fraser, Tremaine Wright, and the incumbent Al Vann.

Journalist Ron Howell on his blog, Brooklyn Ron, has been following the candidates closely - to see his take on the race, look here. Lifelong Bed-Stuy resident, Richard Taylor, also has decided opinions on our current elected council member - calling him Al "Don't Give a Damn" Vann. While the Atlantic Yards Report covers what's been happening on the fund-raising front.

I, on the other hand, am embarrassed to admit that I really don't have a clue as to what Al Vann has or has not been doing for our neighbourhood. My knowledge of the political arena is restricted to the snippets I hear on NPR, and I hadn't heard anything about the race on our home turf. I knew that I had a definite interest in voting this fall for a new mayor (as far as I'm concerned, Bloomberg's out - our current fight to get our child in a decent public school shows me he's done nothing for our public education system and the future of our children.) But I only really had an inkling that there was to be a far more local election as emails from candidates (a grand total of three) started trickling into my inbox. The one I was most intrigued by was from Medhanie Estiphanos who is actually running for the 35th district which apparently includes parts of Bed-Stuy? He had a fundraising vegetarian BBQ on May 10th which caught my eye and although there's nothing I like better than a good veggie BBQ, unfortunately I wasn't able to make it. I don't know if many others did either as AYR speculates that he may not have been able to raise the $2000 minimum to stay in the race. Wrong district for us anyway.

The only candidate I've met, who made a strong impression on me, is Robert Cornegy Jr. He came to speak with me after the blogfest and I immediately took a shine to him. He seemed down to earth and concerned about many of the same issues in our hood that I rant about daily. I liked what he's done for our community in regards to creating a shelter for men with substance abuse issues, his active stance on crime prevention, but most of all as a parent of six kids - he has a vested interest in better public education in our hood, safer and cleaner parks, and a working dialogue with newcomers - black, white, brown, yellow, or green if it comes to that. Sorry, that's my own take - I have no idea what his stance on alien gentrification of the third kind is. Did he bamboozle me with his charm? Possibly - although I think I'm pretty good at figuring out if someone's for real or not. Did he just make a strong impression on me because he's 6'10"? Perhaps. Being taller than the other candidates certainly doesn't hurt one's chances in elections. Obama is 6.5 inches taller than McCain, and now look who's president. I'm curious about the only female candidate, Tremaine Wright, owner of the Common Grounds cafe, who as yet, doesn't have a website or even a myspace page. At any rate, I have six months to check out the other candidates and make my choice.

And so do you. Bed-Stuy residents, here's your chance to have a say in the way our community and neighbourhood is evolving. Check out the candidates websites, go to hear them speak, and most importantly use your right as an American citizen and VOTE.

Sonntags-Schule and Evil

St. Peters Evangelical Lutheran Sonntags-Schule

This gorgeous deserted building harks back to Bed-Stuy's earliest German residents and their Sunday school. Note the horse tethering stones out front. It must have been built in the late 1800's according to Urbanology:

In the 1860s and 70s an increasing number of wealthy New Yorkers, mainly from Dutch and German descent, established residence in Bedford. The urbanization of the neighborhood followed the street plan ratified in 1839, which extended the grid throughout Brooklyn (11). Bedford was an exclusive and highly demanded suburb. Market pressure led to rapid urbanization of the area: “the suburban district of freestanding frame and brick homes was gradually transformed into a more urban neighborhood of brick and brownstone row houses.” (12) Instrumental in popularizing the neighborhood was the construction of the elevated railway lines giving fast access to Downtown Brooklyn and Manhattan. The housing market boomed from 1880 to 1920 as Neo Greek, Romanesque, and Queen Ann style buildings mushroomed all around Bedford.

Funny to think of Bed-Stuy as being an 'exclusive and highly demanded suburb.' Which just proves that the only constant is change. From being a white neighbourhood, to a black one and now the whites are returning in droves, it seems.

The other day Big Joe was walking down our sidewalk and came upon a little black girl with her mom, who was wearing a headscarf knotted Muslim style around her head, walking in the opposite direction. As Big Joe passed them, the girl looked up at him and said, "You are evil." He stopped in his tracks, turned around and gave the mom a questioning look, but she said nothing in affirmation or denial of her daughter's statement. We wondered if this was something the little girl was being taught at home, about evil white people or if it was more along the lines of when a little white boy in a playground said to Big Joe, "You're Voldemort!" and then ran away in terror. For those of you who aren't Harry Potter geeks - Voldemort is the most evil of villians. A child's vivid imagination or a reaction to gentrification, who's to say?

From Serendipity to Opportunity

Upbeat sign adorning this women's drug rehab center. The sign offers a sharp contrast to the building on the right.

Church Design

I'm nearly 100% again, thank the powers that be (and thanks to all for the well wishes on my recovery!) If I were to go to church based purely on esthetics, here's some prime examples of ones I'd consider (please excuse the clumsy photoshopping - I couldn't get far enough away on the last two to capture the entire buildings and had to make do - hopefully you'll get the idea):

Sick Day 2

Does this really say 'kitchen of tears?' What's this place about anyway?

Rough night. Sicker today. Went to the doctor and the doctor said, "No more blogging late, now off to bed!" (did all you parents get the jumping monkeys on the bed reference?) Actually the doc sent me home with a prescription for an asthma inhaler and antibiotics, with stern orders to take care of myself. And that means getting to bed at a reasonable time (not after midnight). The irony of 'sick days' when you're a mom, is that there are no 'sick days.' Anyway, I'm off to bed. And just may take a day off or two from blogging...

Sick Day

These mattresses have checked out of this motel permanently.
Photo taken in Albuquerque, NM.

I have the worst hayfever and a champion cold/cough - but this isn't news, I've had this dynamic duo for over two weeks now. So no proper post tonight I'm afraid - I'm not even going to search my files for a Bed-Stuy related photo. For as Big Joe says, if I don't get better soon - I'm not going to be able to blog at all. Night night everyone...

The Struggle with Our Schools - Part 2

The design for this new sign for the Cush Campus Schools harks back to an earlier era. It seems that when it will actually re-locate from Crown Heights to Bed-Stuy depends on how much money can be raised.

Finding a decent school for one's child is a challenge in New York, but even more so in low income neighbourhoods like Bed-Stuy. In 1972, Ora Abdur-Razzaq, a stay-at-home mom in Crown Heights took matters into her own hands and opened her own school. From a New York Times article from 1999:

There are about 150 private secular schools founded by African-Americans across the country, including 21 in the New York metropolitan region, according to the Institute for Independent Education. Many of the schools were founded like Cush: Veterans of the 1960's Black Power movement, frustrated with public schools, transformed living rooms, basements and brownstones into small schools with a pan-African focus.

Many now have growing enrollments and waiting lists. That, and the high costs of providing education, from teacher salaries to new technology, are nudging these modest schools into larger arenas.

''Black private schools are at a crossroads because there are many more demands on them with the explosion of information and technology,'' said Joan Ratteray, executive director of the Institute for Independent Education. ''Many of these schools have had low tuition and they have kept it that way for many, many years so they could help families in the communities keep coming to the schools. Funding is crucial.''

An article about Cush Campus in City Limits Magazine from 1997 talks about the history of self starting schools in the black community:

More and more black parents across the country are going the independent school route in an effort to avoid burdened and bureaucratic public school systems and to help build Afrocentric cultural understanding in the minds of their children, explains TIE director, Dr. Joan Davis Ratteray. Parents now have a broader choice of institutions than ever before, ranging .from nonsectarian schools to Christian academies. The schools themselves are generally small, with student populations ranging from as low as 50 to as high as 400.This trend is, in many ways, a blast back to the past, says Dr. Ratteray. Until 1916, one of the few ways black people could get an education was to attend either church schools or schools that blacks them-selves had started.

The City Limits article also brings up the key reasons for the necessity of such schools:

More than half a million black children in New York City attend public school. As a group, blacks are the largest single ethnic cohort in the city’s public school system, comprising nearly 40 percent of all the students. The problem is, many of them are performing at abysmally low levels. Nearly half of the special education population in the city is made up of black children. And citywide, only 43 percent of black students can read at grade level, compared to 70 percent of white students.

At one public school in Downtown Brooklyn, for instance, administrators report that nearly 30 percent of their third graders were held over last year. “Many of these children are reading much below grade level, if at all,” says the school’s assistant principal.

Academic experts blame social circumstances, racism and poverty for the racial disparity. But these are often exacerbated by other conditions. “One of the biggest problems is overcrowding,” says a Harlem public school teacher. “It’s no secret, but many of my students don’t even have books. Sometimes there are so many [stu-dents], it takes half the year to remember all their names.” Class sizes in many public schools are as high as 40 or more students in a room.

The NY Daily News reported that in 1999, Cush Campus Schools tried to get Charter school status. For even though their tuition was low compared to most private schools, "the $5,200 in annual tuition, which is the school's main source of funding, is nearly unaffordable for many of the school's parents, said Abdur-Razaqq." It seems that the school didn't get charter school status - as it is still listed as private and the tuition must be even higher now.

Cush Campus Schools, which serves students from Pre-K to Grade 8, has an average class size of fifteen students per class and is still currently located in Crown Heights. According to their website, CCS is non-sectarian and admits students of all ethnic and religious backgrounds. Although all the articles I can find about it, talk about how it was created to help black children. On Private School Review it says that 100% of the students are children of colour. Which is great if you're black. Or Latino even. But what if you're not? When I was searching for a good school in the neighbourhood last spring, a reader suggested I send my child to Excellence Boys Charter School, which is geared towards African Americans. Considering the apparent Black Nationalist history of these schools I wonder if my half white/half Asian child would be welcomed at either one. Not that we could even afford the tuition at Cush Campus. In fact we can't. But what I really want is a progressive, solidly performing, loving school with a strong parent community that embraces children of all races and backgrounds, with a focus on art and music. And that simply doesn't exist in Bed-Stuy.

Which is how Little Joe ended up at a diverse, progressive, arts-focused, charter school in Manhattan which we've grown to love. And now because of the backwards thinking of the Department of Education my son may not be able to return to this school for Kindergarten. Once again, for no good reason, the DOE has decided to switch up the rules at the last minute and eliminate all the out of district students for Kindergarten. Partly this is due to the last several years of New Yorkers breeding like bunnies. Maybe it's all the fertility drugs in our water supply. At any rate we now have an overabundance of little people and nowhere to put them. And now it's too late for us to apply at other charter schools in Brooklyn. But it ain't over yet. We're fighting this thing. But if worse comes to worse, I may have to follow Ora Abdur-Razzaq's stellar example and start up a school in our own basement.

Cush Campus Schools
221 Kingston Avenue (between Park Pl. and Sterling Pl.)
Brooklyn, NY 11213
(347) 425-9741
contactcush@aol.com

Gambling On God

When I was growing up in Canada, every Wednesday and Friday my dad would by a lottery ticket or two. I'd say that in twenty or so years my dad invested at least 2000 dollars in lottery tickets and won back about $500. That's a loss of $1500. Which, I suppose is not that much to spend on the thrill and suspense of gambling. Not to mention sustaining eternal hope that one day, he'd win the lottery and all his problems would be fixed.

My mom didn't believe in lottery tickets, instead, she put her hope and money in God. Saturday evenings or Sunday mornings, she'd drag our family to the Catholic church. My dad would fall asleep, snoring lightly. While I, in the early years taught my brother to read with the reader in the pew, then in later years, I led the congregation in song, playing the church organ at the 8:30am mass on Sunday. I prayed for the usual stuff, for my parents to stop fighting, to get a boyfriend, to pass an exam, to grow bigger boobs. Everything I asked for eventually came through, although not at all in the ways I'd expected. So although it seemed the return on prayer was better than the one on lottery tickets, when I left home at age 17 I gave up on church. Then I gave up on God.

I never buy lottery tickets. But occasionally in times of trouble I will pray. Figure it can't hurt. I wonder if a militant prayer army gets better results. They're clearly better disciplined in the praying department. And they don't hope for miracles, they expect them. I wonder if they buy lottery tickets too.

Today's Local News: Guerilla Gardening and Mamabration

A few of the dozen bundles of sticks and trees from our clean up of the neighbour's backyard rest beneath a mural Big Joe painted on our garden wall.

Yesterday was our house's monthly meeting and clean up day. Once a month all six adult tenants and one preschooler get together to bring up concerns, resolve differences, and applaud successes. Then we get to work cleaning all the common areas - living room, hallways, bike room, and in the warmer months, the garden. We love our garden - it's one of the great things about living in a brownstone in Brooklyn. However, we have a phenomenal mosquito problem. So that means roughly from the end of May to the end of October, you cannot step into the backyard for five minutes without getting eaten alive. That is, unless you're a chain smoker, which only one of us is. Lucky him. Where the mosquitoes come from exactly, is a mystery. A few yards down there used to be a huge pool of standing water which has since gotten cleaned up. But it made no difference to the ever increasing population of our blood sucking friends. So then Big Joe and I decided they may be growing in the small pools of standing water on our neighbour's low roof and in the swampy mires of their neglected trash strewn garden. While we were in New Mexico, while browsing through Big Joe's favourite store, REI, I seriously considered buying a complete suit with mosquito netting - only it would just be too damn hot.

So yesterday I decided to take charge of the situation and with garbage bag, hand saw and gardening gloves, squeezed through the narrow gap in the fence bordering our properties. For the next two hours I picked up soda cans, glass, tires, hundreds of sodden plastic bags - some filled with unknown contents, chopped down the errant tiny trees and tore out the weeds. Big Joe had asked the landlord, who doesn't live in that building, on a few occasions to do something about that yard to no avail. And apparently, the tenants on the first floor of that building, a couple, used to look after the yard with a friend of theirs. But then that friend died, and the yard fell to decay. So I was a little concerned that someone might start yelling out the window at me or call the cops. When I was halfway done, a woman did yell out the window. Only she hollered, "Thank you! Thank you so very much!" That was all the impetus I needed to complete the job. In fact it made me want to go out and buy bulbs to plant in their yard - to create a garden that they'd actually enjoy sitting in. But I'm afraid our finances won't accommodate that impulse, and quite frankly I don't have time to work on our garden let alone the neighbour's. But I was glad our neighbour was so thrilled. Then I had to take Little Joe to a classmate's birthday party and Big Joe finished bagging the leaves and tying the trees I'd chopped down into bundles.

Today was hands down, the best Mother's Day ever (that is, since I became a mother myself.) Got to sleep in, which is always a rare and delicious treat, and then at the late hour of 9am I was woken up by my four year old presenting me with a dozen orange roses, two cards he and his dad worked on together (yes, TWO), and a fresh carrot/ginger juice from Mr. Kiwi's. On the above card, the simpler of the two (I'd say painted in an impressionistic style), Little Joe had asked his dad to write the above message, which just blows me away with its forthrightness and confirms my belief that before you turn five you know all the important things in life - like asking for a hug when you want one - and then you spend the rest of your life unlearning that good stuff.

Then Little Joe and I made a scrumptious strawberry shortcake which the three of us promptly devoured. And I got ready to do a reading at 'Mamabration' at Bluestockings Books that night. Unfortunately, the turn out was rather small - it being Mother's day and six o'clock on Sunday night didn't help. Nor did the fact that I didn't promote it on this blog because of my nagging paranoia of being seen in person. I clearly could learn a thing or two about asking for what I need from my son. It was unfortunate because the five other women I read with are amazing and talented writers and I could at least have promoted them. So although it's too late for anyone to get to the reading, here's my belated shout out to these wonderful women. In attendance was (from their bios for the reading):

Christen Clifford is a writer and performer in New York. She has written for Nerve, Salon and the Huffington Post. She is a storyteller for the Moth and her solo show BabyLove ran for three months off Broadway and was a critic’s pick in Time Out and New York Magazine. She is married to writer McKenzie Wark and is the proud mother of Felix and Vera. More at www.christenclifford.com, and twitter.com/cd_clifford.

Ayun Halliday is the author of four self-mocking memoirs, No Touch Monkey! And Other Travel Lessons Learned Too Late, The Big Rumpus, Job Hopper and Dirty Sugar Cookies: Culinary Observations, Questionable Taste, and a brand spanking new children's book, Always Lots of Heinies at the Zoo. In her spare time, she is the Chief Primatologist & sole staff member of the quarterly zine, The East Village Inky, as well as BUST magazine's Mother Superior columnist. Ayun lives in Brooklyn with her husband, playwright Greg Kotis and their increasingly well-documented children. Dare to be Heinie and visit www.AyunHalliday.com!

Victoria Law is a writer, mother, and photographer. Since 2002, she has worked with women incarcerated nationwide to produce Tenacious: Art and Writings from Women in Prison. Her writings have appeared in Hip Mama, off our backs, make/shift magazine and Left Turn. Her new book, Resistance Behind Bars: The Struggles of Incarcerated Women is the culmination of 8 years of research, writing and listening to the stories of women incarcerated nationwide.

Jennifer Silverman is a recovering journalist, mama of two rambunctious sons, agitator and co-editor of the forthcoming anthology My Baby Rides the Short Bus (PM Press, 2009). Her writing about mothering her son with autism has appeared in Hip Mama and off our backs, and the ‘zine version of Short Bus, among others. She resides in Queens, NY.

And last, but definitely not least, Bed-Stuy's own: Tomasia Kastner. Hopefully a special post and interview with Tomasia to follow soon.

Born in Portimao, raised in Rockland, and residing in Brooklyn, Tomasia Kastner emerged from New York City's spoken word renaissance, where she shared the stage with Saul Williams. A captivating lyricist, Tomasia has brought audiences to their feet at such esteemed venues as the Brooklyn Academy of Music and Hammerstein Ballroom. Tomasia opened up for Gil Scott-Heron, has performed with the likes of Me'Shell N'DegeOcello who called her "…too funky..." and has shared the stage with Mos Def who exclaimed "She's really good!" as well as Mums the Schemer (Oz) who declared, "She's like a female Rakim!" Tomasia recently released an album entitled Death of the Fresh with DJ Stef-Eye as their latest incarnation FISHEYE.

Geekfest Brag and Swag

So now that I've outed myself and made a public appearance at last night's Fourth Annual Brooklyn Blogfest, I just thought I'd share the official blogfest photo of yours truly. As you can see I agonized over what to wear, because as my old stripper/stylist roommate used to say, "Looks are everything." I dismissed corsets I could barely breathe in, semi sheer shirts that revealed my nipples, above the knee skirts that would expose my crotch while sitting on the stair "stage", ballgowns and stilettos I might trip in, anything light colored that would show nervous sweat stains and finally opted for a conservative midnight-blue silk Costume National tuxedo suit that I got at Century 21 many years ago for practically nothing, with a black t-shirt.

It was only as I was heading out the door that I realized I looked less Marlene Dietrich (which was what I was aiming for) and more Miami Vice. But by that time I was already running late so Don Johnson it was. But I'm glad I made some effort at least, as bloggers have a tendency to turn up at Blogfest in the clothes they blog in. Big Joe likened the attendees to the geeks who go to the Comic Convention, minus the people dressed up as their favourite superheroes. How I would have loved to have seen people dressed up as Batman and Wonder Woman. Or even hipsters for that matter. There were a select few but even they weren't at their flashiest.

The space was great except for a giant pillar that blocked the screen and speakers from view for many of the attendees. I appreciated the Robert Guskind tribute, but really, how could you not mention this man at a Brooklyn celebration of blogs. As for the panel discussion, I enjoyed it more than I expected to, except for the long winded explanations of their respective blogs by each of the panelists (including myself) which took so much time that the actual 'discussion,' which was beautifully moderated by Megan Donis, was a scant 10 minutes, perhaps even less. I was disappointed that there wasn't time to debate with Jake Dobkin about his point that there are too many neighbourhood blogs - as many neighbourhoods are still unrepresented, or his other attack on the pointlessness of personal blogs, as there are several personal blogs that I enjoy reading regularly. After all the personal is political. I also wanted to discuss whether the others thought that blogging was a privilege of the middle class. Namely the white middle class. When you're trying to support a family on minimum wage, and fighting with the system for food, shelter, education and health care, when is there time to blog? And finally I wanted to say that my blog is most 'successful' when I'm being true to my passion. So if you're thinking about blogging, my advice is to write whatever you're passionate about, and the readers will follow.

I am curious as to what Jake had to say in his Guerrilla Blogs-of-a-Feather group about how to make money off your blog. He is after all the Donald Trump of blogging.

So then when it was over and the conversations just started getting interesting, we were shooed out of powerHouse books to the 'after party' at Galapagos across the street. Unfortunately this is when many chose to make their escape. The 'shout outs' were far and few between compared to last year's and I didn't get a chance to meet as many people as I would have liked especially as the bar was so loud it was not conducive to conversation. It was more conducive to drinking. Naturally. And as neither our current budget or lifestyle supports this, we didn't stay long. It's a tricky event to co-ordinate, however, as bloggers are an opinionated bunch, but it was professionally done and had an impressive turn out. Plus I enjoyed chatting about race and problems with the public school system with Frank Jump of Fading Ad Blog and also met Roopa, a blogger whom I'd never heard of, whose blog is called Political Poet(ry) and who is a self described, 'Indian American hip hop head and politics geek.' Interesting. Check her out.

Some of the swag, aside from bottled water (outside.in was discouraged from donating beer as there was to be a cash bar at Galapagos) was Jolt gum. When I was handed the package at the afterparty, the image on the package was so jolting I nearly upchucked my free pizza -as it only reminded me of the senseless war that Bush led us into. Apparently Jolt sent 25,000 free packs of caffeine-charged gum to our troops in support of the war effort. Because what does a armed soldier need more than an energy drink in gum form? Big Joe used to study Muay Thai kick boxing in the city, and one of the students, who was already inclined to be aggro, drank a Red Bull before every class which upped his aggro quotient 500%. Here's some gum, now go kill those Iraqis!

Oh and then we got some shiny stickers at the afterparty, which were not official blog swag, promoting this hipster band called Last Year's Model. Their music's way too electronic and high energy for me (it actually goes great with the Jolt gum) but I really dig their look.

Mega What?

So apparently the brand spanking new drugstore on the Bushwick side of Broadway - Mega Aid or Mega Rid as Big Joe insists on calling it, has finally opened. I believe their sign went up over a year ago and now finally they had their "Grand Opening" and we missed it.

We passed it on Sunday afternoon, which, oddly, is a day they're not open. Their hours are not posted so they may be entirely random for all we know. Only a few partially inflated balloons remained from their mysterious opening day.

However the "pharmacy" part of the sign has been covered up, and they have yet to take credit cards. Do we need another drugstore in our part of the woods? No. Am I sorry I missed their grand opening? Only because I'm curious, not because I'd ever frequent their store. As far as I'm concerned, the only worthwhile reason to cross the Broadway border is to go to Mr.Kiwi's which I cannot say enough good things about. They carry organic products that are cheaper than Whole Foods and they're always friendly. The only problem with the place is the glut of "hipster highschoolers" as Big Joe calls them - wearing ill-fitting variations of clothing they saw in Vice Magazine, fresh pimples dotting their face, clogging the aisles in groups of 4 or 5 with long discussions over which gourmet potato chips to buy, and spending their trust fund money. Or not. But they all look like they intern at MTV or Vice Mag - which means someone's gotta pay the rent. Question is, will they spend someone's hard earned money at Mega Aid?

Bed-Stuy Architectural Digest - 12 - Dos and Don'ts

DO

invent your own random tiling system to decorate the front of your building.

DON'T
cover your front yard in a sea of cement
DO
put out lots of potted flowers and a garbage bag on the sidewalk for passerbys' trash

DO
re-do or renew your brownstone's detailing.

DO
install intricate decorative iron window gates - security doesn't have to be unattractive.

DON'T
mix tiles. Especially when the old ones are so classic, and the new ones are just plain ugly.

DO
let ivy take over the front of your house.

Kimchi and The Show

Lab 24/7 has a lot of interesting events but this one, in particular, caught my eye. Not the least because of the great visuals on this flyer. But even more reasons - Korean food (yum!), drag performers and an AIDS benefit. What's not to like? Go.

This Friday, May 8th, The Lab is proud to lend our space and support to the ultra-talented performance artist/singer Yozmit, in her race to raise money for AIDS Walk New York. This is going to be an extraordinary event with much taste, texture and indulgent visuals provided by Honeygun Labs.

Everyone's An Artist

Dress for Success

In our reminders for this Thursday's Brooklyn Blogfest, the female panelists were reminded that the 'stage' at PowerHouse Arena is the stairs of the arena, and that it was recommended that we wear "pants not a skirt." Which reminds me of when I was down and out in Amsterdam many moons ago and got a job go go dancing on the bar at the Clit Club. Our pay was free drinks and whatever we made in tips. Although my outfit was sexy, my friend and fellow dancer, Cherry, a pale busty girl with a Louise Brooks hairdo and multiple body piercings, chose to wear a mini skirt and no panties. Needless to say, she made all the tips, exposing her cherry.

That's one way to get all the attention. However I imagine that the Blogfest attendees aren't looking for that kind of show. But you never know.

Don't Be Afraid

Allen
Pam
Allen
Pams
Don't be afraid
go to the hip hop
parade