Posted in about shae, Activism, advocate, Car, commentary, community, flowers, see

Wilted Beauty

Houston traffic is rarely kind. You just want to get home and get out of the car and away from all of the tons of metal that try to kill you on the way. Most of us are on autopilot, our thoughts already home and wondering what’s for dinner.

About a half mile from home, I saw her. She wasn’t young, but her circumstances could have made her look older than she is. Her head and shoulders were covered with a terracotta colored scarf, and she carried a bunch of wilted flowers in one hand and a sign that said she was a single mum of three kids needing help with food and rent.

As I’ve written before, I have had to choose between gas, groceries and electricity before. I know how hard it is to make ends meet in a system that sets up women to have to depend on others and fight harder than most to achieve financial security.

I see a lot of people on the streets with signs. This woman, however, was different. I looked at the sun-wrinkled face behind the smile she wore. I saw the divine in her. Her personhood. I saw her.

It was still over 90 degrees and I could tell she’d been out there a while in the heat, trying to get enough money to make it through one more day.

I rarely carry cash, but recently, I was paid back for something in cash and I had that in my wallet. I reached out to give her the money, and she gave me two flowers and tears ran down her face. I saw her, and she’d been seen.

Posted in commentary, community

Hometown Blues

When I was growing up, I saw so much potential for my hometown of Huntington, Indiana. Politicians and businessmen were eager to bring jobs and growth to town. Industry and stores bring workers. Workers buy homes. Workers like to go out to eat and play in town, and have good schools for kids. Seems like a simple, but daunting plan. I love to see Huntington fight for its future.

I have lived elsewhere for thirty years. Each time I come back to Huntington, something else has closed down or moved away (likely to Wabash, where they actually seem to support a growth plan). The south side of town has especially been hard hit. I don’t even recognize it anymore.

When my friend and brother, Ian Stallings, told me he was renovating and reopening the Silver Moon Pub on the south side of town, I was ecstatic. I visited him last summer and he showed me the progress he’d made on construction and his vision for what this pub would be. Beyond job creation and a place for friends and family to meet, drink and be merry, this building would also include apartments and artist space for his WIAR project (Wabash International Artist Residency) that has brought artists and culture to locations up and down the Wabash River Valley.

My brother Ian loves Huntington. He loves it so much, he poured his blood, sweat, tears and money into having a quality gathering space into a town that desperately needs it. Yet, as has proven out for decades now, Huntington doesn’t recognize or support businesses or business people that bring something to their town that isn’t on their terms. There is a long history of businesses that give up that fight and go elsewhere (did I mention Wabash seems to have gotten with the program?).

I was looking forward to hanging out with Ian (and “Other Ian” who was managing the space) when I was home last week. We made those plans last year, long before the opening. Once the space opened, it started to grow and thrive. Most projects and initiatives that Ian touches, do just that. I couldn’t wait to visit the Silver Moon Pub.

I had hoped that Huntington had progressed enough to support this vision and business. I guarantee you, once the pub succeeded, Ian was just getting started. Unfortunately, Huntington’s vision doesn’t see past the courthouse or into the wider world. I saw that those who claim to care about Huntington managed to drive out another business owner with excuses and deliberate roadblocks (that’s figurative, but I also heard there were physical ones, too).

If you have someone that wants to invest in your community, you make the phone calls that need to be made to keep a space open, not throw up your hands in fake concern and turn your back on someone that loves your town and wants to see it grow. BS is BS, Huntington, and we can all smell it. Shame on you. SHAME ON YOU.

The only vision Huntington has for the Silver Moon Pub is what they or someone who is like minded would do with that space and those dollar signs will not produce what they hope for and the space will not thrive like it would under Ian’s ownership. I’m not sure what the reasoning behind not helping this pub stay open, but if it’s why I think it is, they need to grow up if Huntington is to grow. Huntington, you need people like Ian Stallings to invest in your community. Do better.

I visited the Silver Moon Pub while I was in Huntington last week and saw the FOR SALE sign Ian has in the window. I know he is hurt and discouraged, but my sincere hope is that Ian reconsiders and reopens. Nobody else in Huntington will love, grow, and encourage that space like Ian has and would do so through it’s future.

Posted in community, COVID, politics

I Celebrate, Even by Myself

Today is pandemic social distancing day 526. COVID-19 is just as bad here as it was last winter, a viral fire fueled by misinformation and a variant tearing through the unvaccinated population that has chosen freedom without responsibility.

One day, those that spread misinformation and mistrust to further their own political aspirations will be held accountable one way or the other. I believe that. One day, we’ll peel back the layers and discover what made a portion of our population vulnerable to that misinformation. There are many theories, and I believe many causes. As a nation, we have much to examine and repair. Moreover, we have a great deal of healing to do.

A couple of months ago, I bought a very nice bottle of wine. Barrel aged for two years, smooth, delicious. I was saving it for a special occasion, but by the time I truly will get to share it with anyone, it will likely go bad.

Therefore, tonight I opened my aged, fine wine. I am celebrating being vaccinated, socially distanced, and safe. I know I have chosen the right path for myself and for others. I will continue the same course of action until it’s safe to open another bottle, another time, with others.

Posted in Activism, advocate, community, education

Judging Those in Poverty

I’m building on the rant by Qasim Rashid above.

I have lived paycheck to paycheck most of my life. I have had to decide between gas and groceries and not just once. I have visited the food bank. I had to let my teeth go because I couldn’t afford the dental care I needed. I drove cars that broke down constantly.

AND I WORKED MY ASS OFF. At one point, I had three jobs and still sometimes wondered if I’d have enough gas to get to work. While life is much better for me now, I remember feeling the judgement, real or perceived, because I couldn’t make ends meet working those three jobs (without health insurance) and I couldn’t make my degree work for me either.

If your definition of socialism is “someone I don’t like or I think doesn’t deserve” what you already have, you a) need a dictionary, and b) you should be thankful you have the privilege you can stand on and make judgements from.

Poverty is not a moral failing, it’s a failing of a system. I’m no longer ashamed of what some call “wasted years”. Since I lived it, I know how hard it is to overcome it. There aren’t always opportunities, they need to be created. One was created for me, and I haven’t forgotten it.

Instead of “they don’t” or “they shouldn’t”, perhaps we should start talking about “we” and “us.” That’s what community is all about.

Posted in Activism, challenge, commentary, community

Blackkklansman

I’ve watched Blackkklansman several times now. Parts of it make me sick, particularly the parts where “Christians” believe white is right and the only color. Harry Belafonte’s part where he recounts several atrocities is particularly strong. One hopes we’ve made progress. Right?

Then a church going white man drives into a crowd to kill people for their assumed religion based on how they look. In Sunnyvale, California. In 2019.

We can do better, America. We need to stand up for each other. Own the past. Change the future.

I still have hope change can happen. May I do my part.

Posted in Activism, commentary, community, holidays, Human Rights, Humanity, politics

MLK Day

Until 1988, I didn’t know much about Martin Luther King, Jr. Nothing was taught about him in history class (of course, no history class I was in got much further than WW2), and so it passed under my radar.

In college, I had a friend named Dee Dee who suggested, since we were near Atlanta on Spring Break, that we go see the MLK Center opened by Dr. King’s widow.

We went on our journey that day and I didn’t know what to expect from our visit, but I left the MLK Center very reflective and sad that someone who fought so hard for equality was persecuted for it. He was not perfect, but he was important. For all of us.

My life is richer because of the diversity in it. May we all work together so we are all on equal footing to reach our dreams.

Happy birthday to the King of all Dreamers.

Posted in community, nature, pics, Uncategorized, weather

HARVEY, AND THE TURTLE SWIMMING IN MY BACK YARD

IMG_6213It’s been a week now since Harvey started steamrolling his way up the Texas coast, dumping 30 inches of rain in my neighborhood over a 5 day period.  I live in the Buffalo Bayou watershed, and that water is still lapping against the bottom floor of my four-story building.

Mercifully, that water has receded about a foot and a half in the last 24 hours.  It’s not unlike a clogged bathtub drain – since they keep releasing water from the reservoirs into Buffalo Bayou, they do not expect this water to fully drain (and that’s if there’s no additional rain) for another 10-15 days.  Most other places in town, the water is receding or has receded.

I’ve been working from home for over a week. Thankfully, I only lost power for 15 minutes on Saturday morning and it came back on and has stayed on.  Tuesday I did go out, in the pouring rain, because I was going a little stir-crazy.  I made it to the Thai place close by and got some takeout. While I waited, I chatted with a much older gentleman named Bill. It was nice to have some conversation that did not involve posting warnings to other coworkers (we are spread all over the Houston metro area) and checking in on people where the water was rising.

It’s not unusual to feel helpless during disasters like this.  My health is not allowing me to do much in the say of hands-on help for people, I have no cash to really help anyone, and though I live on the fourth floor, I sustained some water damage in my apartment due to the wind, prior undiscovered damage that this storm brought to light, and relentless, pounding rain.  I’m really worried about the mold that is already there and that will have a chance to grow until I get my turn on the fix list (there are many apartments on the first floor of other buildings that had rising water in them that are priorities, and I get that).

I know people who have lost everything (again) and people who have lost cars, and some people who are just stuck because we are living on a series of islands in this area of town and if you want to go north/south from here it is nearly impossible. It’s insane and difficult to describe what’s going on down here in Houston.

This is my fourth…fifth… major flood/storm in the last 9 years. I’ve really lost count how many times this creek that is often just a trickle of inches has gone over its banks (about five feet), but this is the first time the water has risen to within a foot of the balcony on the first floor.  It’s only gone down about 18 inches since the rain stopped Tuesday evening.

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I do the only thing I can do in times like this, document the situation as it happens, encourage others, and take photos.  Some of the photos you see on this post were taken with my iPhone or Canon over the past couple of days as the sun came out.

I noticed, while taking these photos, something was moving in the water. I know there are snakes down there, frogs, and who knows what, but a turtle surfaced in the water.  Of course, I named him Harvey.  How could I not?

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The apartment management visited yesterday to survey the damage and get me on the list of getting things fixed.  We opened the door to survey the door frame damage, and I pointed down to the turtle.   They were all amazed.  Through all that yucky, brown water, swam this little guy.  And from up here, if he looks like that, he’s probably a pretty good size.  Harvey finally made some people smile!

Some people thought I was delirious because I was saying a turtle swam by my apartment, but here he is:

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While I am ready to get back to work, I hope some of the routes north open up, otherwise it may take me over an hour (or more) to go 8 miles when it comes time to try go to the office. The Buffalo Bayou runs all the way to downtown and everywhere there’s a bridge over it, it’s under water and will be for a week or two.

Still, I’ve been able to find some beauty in the mess, and that’s saying something, because it’s a big mess!  All of Houston must reach deep inside to find the silver lining, and keep trudging forward, because Harvey left us with devastation that will take months to clean up.

The best part of this mess is seeing the best of humanity amid the worst of nature.  People helping people, no matter their color, creed or political slant.  Volunteers being turned away because there are too many.  Communities everywhere donating to those in need.  Trucks pulling boats from other states coming to rescue people from their homes. That’s still happening, by the way.  Amazing. People can be amazing when they need to be.

I hope this goodness continues to spread across the United States.  It’s too bad it took a natural disaster to draw it out, but I hope it’s a start.  Please be good to each other out there.

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