quality of life

“Like me, my buddy (also black) grew up in a different DC. Not to romanticize it, but it was a time of tucked in shirt tails, “good” grammar, and what seemed like a zillion parents. Those of us who remain in neighborhoods like Petworth and Brightwood see the opposite of all this. And like some of our newer white neighbors, we are sometimes derided for being who we are. I don’t want to speak for my friend, but it angers, hurts and bewilders us. We sometimes wonder if we have been evicted from “the race”-and that maybe the paperwork got lost in the mail.The class divisions in this town are rarely discussed. But they are as real as Red Line delays. When my family arrived here in 1958-we caught the tail end of a very hue-conscious black middle class community. Some of our neighbors were less than thrilled to have “dark” people like us around.

But now I wonder if we haven’t swung-as America seems to do with everything from food to car size- 360 degrees

in the other direction. The elementary school teachers ( for example) who frequently told us we were somebody, and who, yes, preferred European classical music to James Brown, would have a heck of a time in this educational environment. So would I.

So maybe this is just some of the aforementioned “generational you know what”… I am certainly not nostalgic for the old days. I guess I am, well, angry, hurt and baffled. It does make me wonder what in the heck I am still doing here. But that is another riff.”

The following was written by my friend Cindy who is moving to Canada “in order to live with her partner because immigration is regulated by the federal government, and it will not recognize her marriage so that she can sponsor her partner to immigrate.”

 

Thoughts on the passage of Proposition 8 in California

November 6, 2008

Two nights ago, I celebrated as my country elected Barack Obama to be our 44^th president. It was a great day for democracy, with 64 percent of registered voters turning out, a majority of whom voted for a candidate who ran a campaign based on bringing the disparate pieces of our country together rather than exacerbating the existing divides. A few hours after the presidential election was called, it became apparent, however, that California’s Proposition 8 was expected to pass, taking away the right of gay people to marry in the state.

Yesterday, I watched my friends – gay and straight – lament the loss in California while also celebrating the presidential victory. My gay friends were particularly disheartened, wondering how this could happen, how people could hate us so much as to take away this right. I, too, am disappointed by the results in California. Defeating this proposal would have been a tremendous victory for gay rights in our country. But I am feeling mostly optimistic about what is to come. While it would have been wonderful to see this passed by popular vote, minority rights have historically been won in the courts. Starting in January, we will have a president who is more likely than perhaps any president who has come before him to appoint judges who will uphold gay rights.

 

In the meantime, we have our work cut out for us. Grab your anger and your disappointment and turn it into action. Here are some things that we can all do, whether we are gay or straight. Let’s get to work. Continues after the jump. (more…)

You know the longer I live here the more and more that happens that really does make living here the beautiful life.  Last night I went to bed knowing I was going to have to go to the GA Ave shell station to put air in my tire that has a slow leak. This really made my morning suck when I was cold and tired and just wanted to get in my car and go to work instead of driving down to a gas station where I would probably be harassed for money I don’t even have by someone wearing nicer shoes than I do.

Well I get down there and I’m sitting in front of the air machine searching for any quarters anywhere with no luck when a mini van pulls behind me and honks.  I lean out of my door to point to the air and she nods like “oh yeah, you need air too”, but since I don’t have money yet I pulled up enough so she could go ahead of me.  I got out and went to the ATM which I knew was going to charge me an arm and a leg, which it did, but I did not know it was also going to reek of piss as well.  I got my money and then went inside the little mini mart to get some change, the guy refused to give me more than a dollars worth of quarters even though I did ask nicely.  He said that .75 cents was enough to fill all the problems I had, I wasn’t sure I was convinced since I have never filled my own tires with air before.

A little annoyed and still cold and tired I walked outside to find that the woman was now filling my tire with air.  I couldn’t believe how lucky I was that some random stranger was helping me out.  I started thanking her profusely and she just smiled and said that there was no point in wasting the air that she didn’t need and that “us women had to stick together and help each other out”.  She really made my day and turned what was going to be a sour attitude for most of the morning into a much lighter and brighter morning.

A reader writes:

“So, we read and hear all the time about all the down sides to our neighborhoods – the crime, the racism, crack houses next door. What we don’t always hear about are the really great things about living in our area of the city. I had an experience in Columbia Heights that is a good example – and perhaps we could hear what other people have experienced?

I was at the Giant in Columbia Heights, rushing to get food and props for a baby shower I was hosting the next morning. I’d been out of town and crazy busy with work, so I was super stressed out. I got my groceries and got in the elevator to go to my car, when I realized that I’d forgotten to get my parking validated. There was a young guy in the elevator with me – maybe late 20’s – and he noticed my “I’m so tired and stressed I want to cry” state. He offered to give me his validated ticket and go back and get mine done. My first reaction was that this was a scam – he’d probably been there 48 hours or something and wanted my ticket so his parking would be free. I resisted. He then offered to go down and get my ticket stamped and bring it up to me, so I could unload my groceries. I was still wary, but gave in. He brought the ticket back to me just as I finished loading the car and the whole way to the street I kept thinking “this better not be a scam.” But it wasn’t – he really had just taken the extra time on a perfectly good Friday night to go get my ticket validated for me. That sort of thing never happened to me west of the park where everyone was too concerned about themselves – so that is one of the many reasons I love life in PoPdom.”

The beautiful life can be experienced at the most unexpected times. Not exactly the same but my favorite experience was when I was told to put some glide in my stride. Do you think these experiences are more common east of the park? What’s been your favorite encounter with the beautiful life?