The News From Oberlin, Ohio

Dear Blogger,
Everyone in Oberlin is asking me if my semester was worth it.
Here's my answer:
It was the most fun I've ever had at school and actually learned anything.

Steve

Weather Systems

Dear Blogger,
Here's my final shot of the city:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/20471837@N08/sets/72157603353662424/
I guess that's all we're gonna see of the city for now.

Go Green,
Steve

The White Elephant in the Room

Dear Blogger,
So I’m officially done in the city. All I have to do is leave tomorrow morning. I’m helping Kari get to the bus station so she can leave, and then I’m taking David’s WTFWJD hat to his co-op. And then I’m done with the Chicago Center.
I’ve taken the necessary goodbye photos of the apartment and my friends and the neighborhood.
We had a wrap-up session at the classroom today. It was really sad for me to go to. It’s been such a great time here. I want you to know that.
They asked us questions about what happened to us while we were here. Some people told funny stories about riding the CTA, and the people told touching stories about their internships, and we saw the student teachers that we hadn't seen since September, and we all said what we thought the experience meant for us. I said that I learned so much and that I barely scratched the surface of anything I saw. All kinds of surfaces that I might not have been able to scratch in Albion. And I got to spend time with a group of people that want to learn the same things I do. And that I love the people here, the people in the Chicago Center and at Haymarket Co-op and in Hyde Park, and the people in Oberlin and the people in Albion and the people in Ohio, and the people at the BPFNA, too.
It all just kind of comes out at once, y’know?
Ani and I were talking about this on the way home from the center. There’s a lot more we could have done, but we realized we didn’t do some of those things because we didn’t have the time. I did some great things while I was here. And there’s always next time, right?
I just have to leave and go back to Oberlin. And post my final photo album, post a few more things for you here and there, and then it’s all over.
So pay attention for a little longer, please.

Congratulations,

Steve

Nearly There...

Dear Blogger,
I gave my presentation, officially titled as The Last Garden Spot in Chicago: Civil Rights and American Nazis Come to Marquette Park, today. What a wordy title.
It went really well, as far as any presentation that I can give can go. The time slot was cut back from 30 minutes to 20, which was okay. I just talked faster, (which I cannot do unless I’m under pressure, which is weird. But we had thirteen people presenting—so if we’d kept it to thirty minutes, that’s around seven hours. We kept it to six, with lunch and a few breaks here and there), and I cut out some of the more fancy-hey-lookit-me-I-did-extra-research details.
And for those of you that are interested, I cut out the part about the interplay between class and race, for the most part. I alluded to it, but we have to remember that I was only giving a thirty (twenty) minute presentation. Race & class are pretty complicated stuff, and I’d only create more questions than answers, so I avoided it. (And when I was putting together the Power Point, I kept creating more and more slides... it was more trouble than it was worth.) Though, I did keep the idea of the internalization of racial boundaries and the overall impact these two groups had on one another, and, more importantly, Marquette Park. Fascinating stuff.
It was a great project to work on. I enjoyed the topic, I loved working on it, I formed a close relationship with my teacher Leesa (she wrote her masters about community organizing in the Southwest… truly a great resource), I uncovered some kind of scary and weird stuff about how people act, and I re-interested myself in learning at school. And possibly some ideas for FURSCA, if I’m still thinking about that.
And it’s finished!
I’m finished.
And here we are.
But there’s more to come. I still have to say goodbye to these people and the city. It’s not going to be fun at all. Everyone’s leaving on Wednesday.

Goodbye Friends,

Steve

ps- if you want to know more about my directed study, as there is still more, just let me know.

Goodbye, Sunlight

Dear Blogger,

Today was my last day at work. I can't believe it! Where did the time go?

The question everyone is asking: did you enjoy it?For the most part, yes, I did enjoy it. In a strange way, I really did. I think it really comes down to the kids. Those kids.

I've certainly gotten over my bitterness that you may have picked up on, during the early parts of the semester. In a program like the Chicago Center, I think that the limits of the program are pretty clearly the limits of the individual student. Everything we do here, we get guideline from our teacher, and then we have to get our own crap done. (Some people don't like this, but I really appreciate the complete necessity of imagination to learn.) So in this respect, I'm still a little disappointed with my internship, but in reality, I'm secretly (no longer secretly) angry that I didn't take the internship search more seriously and look into the other options I had.

But like I said the first time, I really did like the program, so in the end, I'm glad I got stuck in Sunlight. And more importantly, I'm no longer disappointed with myself for not being able to escape that place and going somewhere else.It's a skill, I think, to take something that completely sucks and doesn't take you the way you want it to take you, and so, you have to take it wherever you want. That's stupid when I say it out loud. (Who wrote this? Dr. Seuss?)

That having been said, what was the best part?I guess I could say the kids. But I don't know what part of that's true, really. I mean to say, I don't hate any of them. I could never say that, because it wouldn't be true... they did all sign a gigantic card for me and quite a few of them were sad to say goodbye to me. And some of the younger kids didn't seem to understand that I was probably never going to see them again. (It's strange, because I remember thinking this from when I was younger, but I think it's hard for young children to separate that the people they associate with school aren't always part of the school. For example, one kid was talking to me about something that happened on Friday, something involving pizza, I think. I was never there on a Friday, and I told him so, but he didn't quite understand that I only exist there for three days a week. It's very strange.)
I was talking to my teacher, Leesa, about this. It seems like I put myself through a lot of stress that wasn't necessarily worth anything in the end. I had to keep fifteen-or-so kids from destroying one another for forty minutes. I liked helping the kids with their homework and hanging out with them, but I keep coming back to the stress. It just seems like we, the tutors, kept pushing the kids on one another when we got sick of them. And I feel terrible saying it, but the kids were a lot of stress a lot of the time.

But why?

We were the ones keeping them in that room. We were the ones telling them to sit down for four hours. Was it our fault that they were misbehaving? I'm asking myself, right now, what exactly were we trying to accomplish? This is the curse of social work that I'm going to spend the rest of my academic life trying to escape.I guess in a round-about way, I've vaguely answered the question that it was a good experience for me. But it's a vague answer. I don't want to leave such an important storyline from my time here as unanswered. So I will tell you this: I have an immense amount of respect for Ahmad. For every ounce of sweat I dropped, he dropped three ounces. And for every hour I spent in that room, he spent four trying to make up for Ruphina's shortcomings as a boss. That's a good guy, right there. I respect him.

Wizard People, Dear Reader,

Steve

FAKER!

Dear Blogger,
I've got another photo album for you!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/20471837@N08/sets/72157603313465261/
It's what happens when the hippies go crazy in 1968, and Mayor Daley doesn't know what else to call you. This is the shortest set yet, but I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve, okay?
I'm Chevy Chase And You're Not,
Steve

Chicago Nazis

Dear Blogger,
I recently watched a video called Chicago Nazis, a straight-up single-camera documentary about the Nazis in Marquette Park. Two guys just followed the Nazis around while they were preparing for some demonstrations. It's one of those gut-wrenching, ohmigod-these-people-are-terrfying-and-they-are-just-normal-people sort of things.
It is probably the best resource I've had on the Nazis so far, at least, in giving a good record of what they were like, and what drove them to by who they were.
But I also found some good YouTube videos that were helpful. For some reason, I can't embed these videos, so here are the links, yo:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbhVuBlj4Hg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LIwRwG8S3w
Someone let me know if they're not working.
Let's Rock This Candy Shop,
Steve

What Comes After The Wave Of Change?

Dear Blogger,
Ani and I gave our presentation on the Bell/Oakley/Claremont gray zone. I had an interview yesterday with a man named Harry Meyer, who is the head commercial developer for The Greater Southwest Development Corporation. I asked him about the issue of race in the Southwest at the time when integration was taking place. Harry told me that the reason 60,000 people moved out of West Englewood in four years was not because of the presence of black people, but because of economic reasons.
During our presentation, we were mostly certainly stopped by the class to explain this at least twice. While I will admit that claiming there is a distinct separation between economics and race is a sociological no-no, I do think it is an interesting thought on the nature of race in Chicago.
Listen:
The black population in Chicago was growing during the fifties and sixties following the Second Great Migration, and the black middle-class was attempting to distinguish itself from the lower-classes by attempting to move into white, middle-class neighborhoods. Now this is where I think things get interesting. Keep in mind that before this point in American history, racial integration had not been such a major issue, and as a result, the notion of race relations that developed over the following years and even the notion that we have today, were not as developed. It was essentially a new experience for everyone in these neighborhoods.
There is no doubt in my mind that race was certainly an incentive for people to leave their neighborhood at 60,000 people in four years. But as most Americans hold much of their accumulated wealth in their property value, and because the social infrastructure was beginning to suffer as the wealthy left West Englewood, the neighborhoods began to suffer.
And this is where I begin to see Harry’s point:
Imagine sixty thousand people moving in four years. That’s an average of 15,000 people moving in a year. How can an economy even begin to survive such a change? And why would anyone want to stick around to live in poverty? Can you even comprehend how that would impact every aspect of your life?
And where do those 60,000 people go, Harry?
They move West— to Marquette Park.
And how do people in Marquette Park respond to a dramatic change next door?
They try to defend their neighborhood and keep it from happening to them.

They attempt to build a natural barrier.
Suddenly it all comes together.

It's the gray zone.
And as the white, working-class neighborhoods begin to change and more and more people arrive, the natives feel challenged by the change in their neighborhood’s identity. And they fear it will happen to them. Nothing is safe when your home is in danger, you see? The only natural response is to blame who comes behind the wave of the change, the black people. So, as a result of the economic losses and the association of African-Americans with the lower classes, and the sudden proximity of the two races where there had possibly been no proximity before in American history, there is no doubt in my mind that the notion of race in Chicago changed drastically. Race is socially constructed, I think we can all agree on that, and race and class became inseparable in an entirely new way after this.
And what comes next?
Violence.
Nazis.
Grhijregrenhigy78hb jkenite-- my brain is going wild. This is potentially my thesis statement.

From,

Steve

Open Housing

Dear Blogger,
So right now I’m doing research on the background of the Civil Rights Movement in Chicago. Still looking for credible sources on the nazis, though I’m going to a library on the North Side for a video.
At the center of the Civil Rights Movement in Chicago was the call for Open Housing. It’s an interesting topic, and at the center of both of my projects.
At this point in history, the mid-sixties, because of the two waves of migration of African-Americans to the north from the south, there was a growing black population in the city of Chicago. And wherever there is a significant population, there is always a middle-class that wants to separate itself from the lower-class. At this time, the black ghetto was from around Roosevelt Avenue, east to Kedzie, and south to 63rd street, and was slowly growing west during the 1950s. (South of the loop, and stretching south of Hyde Park, and towards the West Side of the city.)
As the black middle-class was moving away from the ghetto, they were moving into neighborhoods that had previously been white neighborhoods. Pretty soon the white people began to move away, to the suburbs, or further into the Southwest Side of the city.
At this time, white realtors were known for buying property from white families that were in such a hurry to leave the neighborhood that would sell for cheap. These real-estate agents would then sell these houses for nearly double the prices to the black families. There were even segregated advertisements for the whites with houses looking to sell, and advertisements for blacks looking to buy those same houses.
As these black families were paying hugely inflated prices for regular sized homes, which they couldn’t necessarily pay for, the families began having trouble supporting themselves, financially.
So at what point does this sort of thing stop being a series of racist actions by a select number of racist people, and at what point do these actions become something that happens by regular people who are only keeping their heads above the financial sea level? Keep in mind that the average American family holds much of its wealth in property value (I’m not sure the exact number. Len Berkey would be so disappointed with me…). Why would you stick around when you’re losing your money and your home, and just ignore what’s happening to everyone else? Most importantly, how can anyone justify aligning themselves with the Nazis?
In 1971, a series of ordinances attempted to allow the placement of For Sale signs in neighborhoods, although the Illinois Supreme Court eventually prohibited this. It was an attempt to stabilize white neighborhoods. But how exactly was it going to stabilize these neighborhoods? Was it going to keep whoever was buying houses in a neighborhood a mystery until someone moved in, to keep white people around, when it was too late for them to leave? Or was it a masked attempt to keep black people from moving in by keeping them from knowing which houses were For Sale?
Dr. Martin Luther King said the fight for Open Housing was “the most clear-cut form of discrimination which exists in the North.”

You're Beautiful,

Steve

God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut

Dear Blogger,
Slaughterhouse-Five is one of the funniest books I've ever read.
Sincerely,
Wild Bob

The Last Garden Spot In Chicago

Dear Blogger,
Things are getting a little backed up here, and I’ve been getting ready to go out of town for Thanksgiving.
Chicago Lawn is an important place in Chicago history, and also in United States history. I’m doing a directed study on the identities of two groups that appeared in Chicago Lawn: The Civil Rights Movement, specifically the Open-Housing Movement… and the National Socialist Party of America. And I’m also doing a presentation for my seminar class on attempts during the sixties to build a racial border between West Englewood (a black neighborhood) and Chicago Lawn (a then white neighborhood). As both of these topics hold a fairly complex history, and as they're fairly closely related, and I don’t want to give you a lecture, I’m going to give you what I’m studying and learning, piece-by-piece.
On Sunday I went with Ani and our seminar teacher, Leesa, to Chicago Lawn (also known as Marquette Park), and this is when I took my most recent photos. In the early sixties, Chicago Lawn was almost entirely white (99.9%), and was fairly affluent. During this time, West Englewood, a neighborhood just to the east was beginning to integrate, and more specifically, the wealthy white people there were beginning to leave for the suburbs. This, of course, caused the people in Chicago Lawn to panic. When rich people flee, the businesses have no business, causing money to disappear, which then causes jobs to disappear, and then the neighborhood just goes to hell. Of course, hell only stops by when the realtors buy property for cheap, and then sell it for twice the buying price, so no one can actually afford to stay in hell once they buy a house there. So what's going to happen to the people in Chicago Lawn that don't want to leave their homes?
About the time that Chicago Lawn was beginning to actually integrate, a bank owner (whose name I can’t remember) proposed building a wall separating Chicago Lawn and West Englewood essentially enforcing segregation.
Now, the interesting thing about this wall is that it wasn’t intended to be some gigantic, concrete wall separating the neighborhoods, like East and West Germany. It was actually intended to be some kind of neutral zone, like in North and South Korea, the Demilitarized Zone: a place where nothing can economically exist and no one would want to exist. This wall, what they called a “natural barrier”, would keep the neighborhoods successfully segregated. (In the photo album, this place is where there are vacant lots surrounded by fences and barbwire with garbage stuck on it, and some photos of traffic tunnels we walked through.) I’m not sure if everything there was going to be torn down and just left barren, or if it would be toxic place where no one would want to be build anything for fear of being alienated by their neighbors, or how the wall could come to be, at all.
Speaking of existing, this wall doesn’t really have a name. Leesa referred to it as the Western Avenue Wall, due to proximity with Western Avenue. (She was more specific in naming it in the Bell/Oakley/Claremont street area.) So far as a few searches on Google can tell me, this wall has no documented history, it’s something that people alive at the time all knew about. (We talked to a man in a restaurant and he told us that it was an internal boundary. Meaning that no one really drew the boundary. You just knew when you were out of place, and so did everyone else around.) And what’s the point of naming something that doesn’t technically exist? And it won’t technically exist anymore when the people who created it and enforced it are all dead.
But there is nothing really there anymore at the Wall. Just some old abandoned coal building, some cracked parking lots, empty traffic tunnels, and some solar panels that probably aren't powering anything in a vacant lot. (Is nothing there, because the formerly successful businesses all leave or fail when the neighborhood integrated indirectly leaving this spot vacant? Or, did the Wall come into some kind of vague existence with no one saying anything to anyone else outside of Chicago Lawn, making it a purposeless border when the neighborhood eventually integrated?)

It’s some kind of vague, secretive purgatory.

Happy Thanksgiving,

Steve

1447

Dear Blogger,
I've gone all around Chicago this weekend! A parade downtown, and a trip through the Southwest. I took roughly 150 photos, and here the 80 best of them:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/20471837@N08/sets/72157603123890379/
And, please, I'm serious when I say this:
these are the best, most important photos I've taken so far, at least personally. If you haven't been looking at my albums, I think you should at least look at these ones. They're deeply crucial to most of what I'm going to be talking about, from here on out. (I'm talking about the photos from the Southwest Side, as they pertain to my directed study and seminar project... but I'll be covering those, soon.)
I won't say anymore, but please look at them.
Rock Hard & Rock Steady,
Steve

Hell's Kitchen

Dear Blogger,

I was reading Batman: The Long Halloween this weekend (very highly recommended), and I was pleased to see that a mob family from Chicago played a significant role in Gotham City's organized crime syndicate.

When I first got here, the Chicago mafia, the Chicago Outfit was coming to trial for various crimes. (Operation Family Secrets! Sons turning against fathers! Racketeering conspiracies! 18 counts of murder! An anonymous jury!) Unfortunately, I kind of lost track of what was happening, but it's expected to severely dismantle the Outfit. And also, the Daley Family (Richard J. Daley who was mayor during the sixties and seventies and father of the current mayor) are rumored to have some connections to the Outfit.

I don't really have much to say, but here's the wikipedia entry, in case you're interested:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chicago_Outfit#History_of_the_Chicago_Outfit

Leave The Gun And Take The Cannolis,

Steve

A Gritty, Urban Crime Drama

Dear Blogger,

One of the most difficult things about living in a city, and please stick with me on this I know that I write about this all of the time, is that it is hard to realize that a lot of the things that happen here could never really happen in suburbia. The homeless here don't get rounded up by the local cops for peeing under that bridge, because it was a little to close to the golf course to go unnoticed, really. The cops and the homeless are two completely separate entities in Chicago. There are no cops in Chicago that look like Keith Charles, and there are no homeless guys here that ride on trains and sing songs with Pee-Wee Herman.

But, see, it's difficult. The cops here have a long history of violence, racism, hatred, and complete indifference to the people they are sworn to protect. I've seen people get off a bus and cross the street when the police come around with their sniffing dogs. There are people here that will avoid the police at all costs, and for good reasons, too.

It's heavy to deal with.

There's a reason I'm telling you this:

I was walking back from the 57th Street Bookstore today, and I saw a guy running down the street to catch a bus that was waiting for passengers. He was carrying something under his arm in that kind of awkward way, with one arm over the top to hold against him and his left arm supporting the bottom, while he ran kind of leaned forward.

I have actually seen this man, an elderly man, a number of times, in front of the Original House of Pancakes, which I walk past on my way to and from work. Sometimes he asks me for money, but he hasn't for a while. I've given him change, and I'd really like to help him, but how many times can I give him a quarter? Am I even helping him? Is there anything else I can do?

A lot of people run places in Hyde Park, especially when they're trying to catch their bus. But this guy was apparently being chased. Another man, a police officer came running around a corner after the homeless man.

It's really heavy to deal with, seeing someone you've tried to help in the past. Someone that you've heard about, growing up in Oberlin, the people you're told to help (it's not their fault, they're victims of society, you know).

I turned around to hear this cop yell, "Stop! Someone stop him! That's not his!"

The guy he was chasing was getting closer to the bus at this point. A kid who looked like a high school student, grabbed the thief and kind of half-tripped, half-swung him to the ground. The poor guy had dropped his bag at this time, and all of the contents had fallen out. I was close enough at this point to see that the homeless man had stolen a gigantic block of cheese from someone.

And the cop had caught up to us at this point and says, "Awww, man! That's nacho cheese!"

Happy Veteran's Day,

Steve

Miller's Crossing

Dear Blogger,

I was able to weasel my way into Social Research with the help of Dr. Togunde, and a few exchanges with the registrar.

I spend most of my time at college wanting to take a creative writing class and when I finally get in, I have to back out. How does that happen?

Things at work have been going well. I'm officially friends with one of the eight year old boys, Timothee. He's absolutely hilarious and absolutely adorable. He likes to climb on me when I'm talking to someone else, so I'll often have to shake him off, pick him up, and then put him in a seat.

Although, tiny little things sometimes happen that really get under my skin.

There's a family of four kids, the Adebanjos. Elizabeth being the oldest, then Michael, then Anu, and then Emmanuel. Being the oldest, Elizabeth is generally dependable to do her own thing and not get into trouble, and also, to help out if children start to get out of hand.

Yesterday, Emmanuel did something that I didn't see-- but I did turn around in time to see Elizabeth slap him on the cheek. I told her that she shouldn't slap him like that, she said she does that when he acts up, and I told her to Please don't do that in the classroom, though. (Keep in mind that from 5:20-6, I'm the only adult in the room.)

Like any small child, Emmanuel started crying hysterically. He climbed onto his chair, and then he climbed onto the table. I was able to get him to sit down, but not get off the table. I thought he had calmed down at this point, but then he jumped off the table and started hitting Elizabeth and continued crying liked he had been.

The weird part is that he kind of stopped hitting her, and started half hugging her and half-slapping her sides, but he was still crying although not as hard. I asked her if he was okay and she said that he was. After that, he seemed so exhausted that he just sort of collapsed onto the ground and lay there. I started rubbing his back and telling him to take deep breaths, and asking him if he was okay, he got up and started to run, but I grabbed him, and I told him to keep taking deep breaths. He kept crying, and then it just turned into some strange kind of exhausted self-healing process that no one really can put words on until it's finished.

This seems like it was something that had started at home, got bottled up, repressed (the other two siblings stayed back, and even seemed ambivalent for most of the time, although, they did help to settle Emmanuel down towards the end), and then it all just kind of exploded at once, and then settled into what's kind of like the unease that comes after a bad storm: you know what happened was awful, you just don't want to do about anything.

It was really the only time at work that I was at a complete loss for what to do. I asked Elizabeth to just take them home, as it was a little before six o'clock. Mostly I was afraid of what Emmanuel was capable of doing-- to himself and to anyone else who might have gotten in his way. It was kind of like seeing all of his repressed energy and anger and anything else that he might have inside of him blow out of him at once, and it just kept coming and coming and was somewhere between rage and terror, but still healing for him in some way.

Also, being the only adult, and being in an environment that isn't very well equipped for any sort of disaster/emergency (we don't have any Band-Aids in the classroom!), what was I supposed to do if anyone had gotten seriously hurt? It's a lot of responsibility that I don't know if I'm prepared for.

There were twelve other kids standing there, watching us or not watching us (I can't remember), and as all of my energy was focused on this one kid for a good ten/fifteen minutes, they could have done some awful things. This made me realize on the ride home, that for the first time since I've worked there, I had absolutely no control over the classroom. Children are capable of terrifying things, in terrifying moments.

But don't you think control is entirely a state of mind?

Let's think about that for a while...

Have A Good One,

Steve

Raw Meat & Egg Yolks

Dear Blogger,

I've registered for classes, and, of course, everything went kind-of-close to according-to-plan. Here's what I'm taking:

• Men and Masculinities
• Introductory Geology (With Keith and Ani!)
• Geology Lab
• Social Psych: Soc Perspectives
• Introduction to Creative Writing

This is pretty good. I got three of the four classes that I wanted. Except that the one class I wanted (Social Research), wouldn't let me in. I think it's because there is a stats class that sociology majors need to take, and I took RDA I in its place, so the interwub got confused and won't accept it. So I e-mailed Dr. Togunde and he told me to bring him the forms to sign, meaning that I can get in, but I'm off-campus so I'm going to call the registar's office in just a minute.

And the Chicago Center also gives us these journals that we have to write in ever day. Meaning that we all put it off to the last minute. On the 15th, we have our third section due, and I've been writing a few entries a day so that I don't need to write them all at the last second and want to kill myself because I'm so bored, like I always am when I write them. Turns out that no matter when I write them, I'm still bored with the assignment. My daily routine isn't so exciting that I have something new, let alone insightful, to say about anything.

(In Senior Composition in high school, we had to do this same assignment. I was just as bored with that, so I started making up story lines. For example, I wrote a lot about a horse I had named Henry, that ran away and got hit by a train near my grandparent's house in Kentucky, which I saw, and which traumatized me for life, and senior year I started having flashbacks. Although, the only reason I got away with this is because Mr. Blair thought I had a great sense of humor and told me that he appreciated my creativity and compared me to James Thurber for some reason.)

The dewey-eyed small-town boy living in a big city and pointing out things that everyone else overlooks from years of experience will only take you so far. It's just dumb.

Suicide is Pa-ai-ai-ai-nless,

Steve

Zabel Sandwich

Dear Blogger,

I'm going to Evanston this evening to see Daniel. Isn't that exciting? I've never been to Evanston before, except on a train.

I also went to Navy Pier yesterday for the first time since I've been here.

It's not really that exciting of a place.

Salutations,

Steve

Organizational Fatigue & The Plague

Dear Blogger,
I slipped these new photos from the Halloween Parade in, just under the monthly time limit. I hope you like them.
They're not scary. You won't get the plague...
http://www.flickr.com/photos/10959363@N05/sets/72157602818742370/
But you might get the organizational fatigue.

Happy Halloween,
Steve

Of The Holy Apostles And Of All Saints, Martyrs And Confessors, Of All The Just Made Perfect Who Are At Rest Throughout The World

Dear Blogger,

It's Halloween! We're going to a parade tonight up in Belmont. I'm hoping it will be almost as exciting and bizarre as The Big Parade, but I'm not holding out. How could I?

I had a meeting with my supervisor and my internship adivsor from the CC. Everything went o-kay. I'm apparently going to learn how to write grants, sometime soon. If my boss, who is still gone, gives Ahmad her permission. Meaning I'm probably not going to learn how to write grants soon. She's notoriously stubborn. (She fired a girl once because the girl's mother died, and she thought the girl was lying to her to get out of work. Although, that might not be stubborn, that might be insane...)

I have a presentation for class tomorrow on a writer for The Chicago Defender, and an outline for my directed study on Friday. Things are getting even busier. It'll get done if I can motivate myself.

Mazel Tov,

Steve

George Steinbrenner vs. George Steinbrenn-ah

Dear Blogger,

I have nothing to say, but the Red Sox won the World Series last night.

For eighty-some years, the Red Sox were defined as the team that fought the Yankees tooth and nail. Even if they still lost, we loved them because they did what no one else could: stood up to the Yanks. The good ol' Red Sox.

Not anymore. They've won the World Series twice in four years, and more importantly, they've broken that damn curse.

Stop it.

There's no curse.

God doesn't curse baseball, and, if there was, why would God curse the Red Sox?

Listen:

The Red Sox are just like the rest of the shmucks in the major leagues after they broke that curse. No, wait. They're not! The Yankees have the highest payroll, the Red Sox have the second. They're not just like the rest of us! They're just like the Yankees.

And everyone in baseball thinks the Yankees are evil, right?

Go, Team,

Steve

Mannheim Steamroller Rolls On Through

Dear Blogger,
A whole lot of nothing happened this weekend. Friday morning we had our directed study class. Our assignment due on Friday was to think of a topic we might want to research. I was initially interested in researching the infamous Chicago Democrat Machine. (There was, I think, a thirty year period where little, or maybe there were none, Republicans elected to public office... how did this come about?) I decided at the last moment, though, to research what circumstances led to hate groups in the Chicago area to forming.
Of course, when I told the class about this, The Formation Of Hate Groups, they thought I said The Formation Of Eight Groups. Meaning that when the class was supposed to be helping me to form an idea for my project, there were a few confusing minutes when they were telling me that I should narrow my topic down to maybe two groups.
Then there were a few more embarassing moments when people asked me how I was going to get interviews with hate groups. (We hadn't learned until three minutes earlier that interviews were necessary. I'm interested to see how that will work out.) The end result is that I've never ever in my life gotten helpful advice from any group on any project. I don't think they're stupid, I just don't think people should be giving me ideas on an idea that I'm still forming, unless they're the professor. Things just don't work that way.
On Saturday, nothing happened at all. Ani and I watched Robert Altman's MASH. If you haven't seen it, it's very dark and consequentially, very, very funny. Highly recommended. (Donald Sutherland's Hawkeye doesn't quite have the natural charisma of Alan Alda's Hawkeye, but Alan Alda's Hawkeye doesn't have the twisted sense of humor as Donald Sutherland's Hawkeye.)
Halloween is right around the corner! I got my costume this weekend. Not a word on what it will be. Pictures, eventually.
It's hard to get anything done around here on the weekends, but what is the point, really?

Arches And An After Thought,
Steve

IT'S A BOY! IT'S A BOY!

Dear Blogger,
I just talked to Mareike Wieth on the phone, and I'm all set. Registration on 11/6, 3:30 EST.
I'm apparently one class away from getting a minor in Psychology. A minor used to require RDA II, which is a big no-no in my eyes, just to get a minor something that seems like it only exists on paper... but apparently only RDA I is required. I guess I could be excited, but since I ran out of time to finish the Sociology/Psychology major, receiving a Psychology minor feels like going for the lowest bar. (But isn't a minor kind of about making yourself look good on an otherwise useless piece of paper?)

And here's what's been happening elsewhere:
I just spoke to the previous owner of my phone number, who Googled their name and came across this blog. After an exchange on AIM, we came to understand a few misunderstandings, made some small-talk, and the person asked me to remove the post that was previously here. It was a good story about miscommunications, but I really do need to respect the privacy of people-- especially that of people I don't know at all. So, I've removed the story, but I remember all the good details and will probably tell you if you ask me.

Your Federal Offender Friend,
Steve

I Wasn't Able To Save Mine...

Dear Blogger,
It has been a while, hasn't it?
This weekend was fairly busy. Friday we had our mural presentation at our teacher's house where he made us blueberry pancakes and we watched everyone's presentations. Then Scott, our teacher, talked about segregation in Hyde Park for a long time. Apparently the university considered abandoning its campus during the early fifties when the neighborhood was beginning to change. (Imagine leaving all those beautiful gothic buildings to rot!) They decided to stay, eventually becoming the saving grace of this neighborhood. But of course, since no segregation story at all is pretty to listen to, Hyde Park's integration comes at a price. This neighborhood, being different (affluent) from the other neighborhoods, they try to keep themselves separate. Meaning that I never noticed it, but there are NO public basketball hoops anywhere in Hyde Park, except in a park near a high school somewhere southeast of where I live... and these hoops are taken down at night. Why? Because the Hyde Park community is taking precautions to keep younger people who might be wandering into the neighborhood with no strong ambitions at the moment, who might then start playing basketball, which might then stand around, which then lead them to become bored, which might then lead them to start trouble. In Hyde Park.

Friday I went to the Great American Six Flags, in Waukegan where my friend Ashly works and didn't have to spend any money, and was in a Zabel Sandwich most of that time. Saturday, I came back into Chicago on the Metra, got back to 1447 at one, left at 6:30 to see The Darjeeling Limited. (Pretty good, no Royal Tenenbaums, of couse. But there were some really touching moments) Got stuck in the middle of downtown Chicago on a Saturday night along with the rest of everyone else in the city, and the trip home on the 6 took forty minutes longer than it usually does.

And because I'm off-campus this semester, and because Drew is also off-campus (sabbatical), I have a stand-in advisor, Mareike Weith. Now, the problem here is that I'm not really a psychology major at all anymore. (I forgot/made a last minute decision to drop that major and didn't have time to switch to Sociology.) So now I have to explain to this woman that I don't really need her advice, and why I was to dumb to change my major.

But here's my potential schedule:

Social Research (MWRF, 9-10) Dimeji Togunde (Required for sociology majors)
Men & Masculinities (TR, 3-4:30) Scott Melzer
Introductory Geology (MWF, 12-1) Beth Lincoln (Science requirement)
LAB (W, 2-5) Also with Beth Lincoln
Social Psych: Soc Perspectives (TR, 10-12) Scott Melzer
Badminton & Tennis (TR, 1-2) Scott Frew

Now, I realize that I have two classes with Scott Melzer. Okay, I do like Scott Melzer. But is it really worth it? I have these modes and categories things to fill, after all. At the same time as Melzer's Men & Masculinities, my old friend in the anthropology department, Hadley Renkin is teaching:

Environmental Anthropology (TR, 3-4:30)

It fulfills the mysterious Environmental category. But it also seems interesting. I have to make that decision.

And Keith also talked me into applying for Summer FURSCA. I have to e-mail someone in the A&S department, probably Scott Melzer, and ask if they'll have me. I'm at a loss, I don't really know what I want to research but that I want to do it. The best thing is to just jump on it, I guess. I'm going to e-mail him very very soon.

Rock & Roll For Toopy,
Steve

Six Feet Under

Dear Blogger,
I just watched this, and I love it so much:


Always,
Steve

Tunnels

Dear Blogger,

It was around ninety degrees on Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday, it was typical fall weather: in the lower-seventy degrees. Yesterday, Thursday, it got cold and kind of unpleasant. It's become the windy city, finally. And it's almost Halloween!

We went down to the southwest side of the city yesterday for class. We've been talking about white flight, so went to see a few neighborhoods. Marquette Park, which was once a wealthy, entirely white neighborhood, as well as the location of one Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s marches in Chicago. Marquette Park is now almost entirely black, because like many other neighborhoods in the south and the west side of the city, many of the white people fled to the north side (ironic) or the suburbs or the southwestern side. A few of the white people are still remaining, like in the old Lithuanian neighborhood, where there is a gigantic, beautiful Russian Orthodox Church that is expecting to close down within the next decade from lack of participation.

We've been reading a book called There Goes The Neighborhood, which is essentially about the changing demographics of many neighborhoods in Chicago. According to this book, there are two ways people deal with their changing neighborhood: voice and exit.

• Voice being standing up and either stopping or effecting the change for better or for worse, like one neighborhood (I can't remember which) that tried to build a giant wall to keep the blacks separated from the whites. Or, Hyde Park, which is pretty well racially integrated. Which I would say is only really because the university is the backbone of the neighborhood and actively supports the neighborhood. I can't really comment on race relations, otherwise.
• Exit being white flight, essentially, just white people abandoning their old neighborhood and moving to the suburbs or another neighborhood. People who can't afford to leave are usually the elderly, or the poorer, and sometimes become the minority within their neighborhood. (The former Lithuanian neighborhood.)

Most of the times, these changes leave neighborhoods impoverished. One of the neighborhoods is extremely poor, has active gangs, and as a result at some unsettling attempts of voice, was the headquarters of the American Nazi Party. (It's been replaced by a Blockbuster.)

And when the people relocate, they just start over again, rebuilding neighborhoods. We went to Clearing, in the southwest side of the city, where many white people relocated to after white flight. The City of Chicago requires that all city employees live within the city's boundaries. Clearing is interesting, because it's on the border of the city, but looks to be suburban. It's near the airport, the streets are wide, everything is spread out, and everyone owns a Ford or a Chrysler. It's also notable for having the highest concentration of police officers and firefighters than any other neighborhood in the city. (Which results in a hyper-patriotic neighborhood, where there's a US flag recycling bin, and cars with NRA bumper stickers, Bush/Cheney '04 stickers, and big SUVs.)

Given this city's touchy relationship with race and the police force, what's going to happen if the neighborhood begins to integrate itself? We talked to a lady from a neighborhood nearby, and it's starting to integrate. It's unavoidable that Clearing not integrate eventually. Where are these people going to go? Are they going to move again? How are things going to unfold? W.E.B. DuBois said the color line is going to be the biggest problem of the 20th century.

Good Luck, Laika,

Steve

One Million Strong For The Barack O-Barameter

Dear Blogger,

We found Barack's house. It's on the corner of Hyde Park Avenue and Ellis Street. We drove past it on our fieldtrip to the Southwest corner of town for class. One of the girls pointed it out to us.

Disappointingly close. I've passed this house almost everyday, and never knew it. I'm kind of disappointed that the search came to an end so early in the semester. Secretly, I was hoping for a semester long search, climaxing with me finding it the last week I was here. It's just a big brick house with shrubs, a black iron fence, and a basketball hoop in the driving way, and right across from the local synagogue.

He's an everyman, I know, but I'm secretly kind of disappointed.

Interestingly, a smudge has appeared on the Barack O-Baramater. He owns a plot of land right next to his house that was owned by Antoin Rezko.

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antoin_Rezko)

It's not really that big of a deal, I say. Everyone buys tainted land. There's land in Albion that's considered a toxic waste area. Indict someone in Albion, not Barack Obama.

Go, Tribe!

Steve

Enrique's Journey

Blogger-

More photos! More photos! More photos!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/10959363@N05/sets/72157602348929392/

I'll upload some more when I take them-- I have plenty of space left in my account. This one is more exciting, but less moody than my last set.

best,
sb

NO! STOP! GET BACK!

Dear Blogger,
Two Saturdays, one of the guys in the program was almost mugged. He was waiting for the Green Line by himself, at around nine, I think, and two guys threatened him and tried to take his wallet. He ran away and told the security guard at the station and they caught the two guys. Apparently they had been looking for these men for a while.
Anyways, don't worry about anything. (That neighborhood he was in is a mile west of Hyde Park, and we never go anywhere alone after night. But I'm not really sure why he was alone...) And honestly, I feel safer in Hyde Park alone at night than I feel when I'm in Albion at night.
It was just one of those things that happens sometimes.
The Chicago Center is making us go to a personal safety program tomorrow night. Besides, who in Hyde Park would mug me? A university student? I would probably end up mugging the mugger.

Be Safe,
Steve

The Dynamic, Again

Dear Blogger,

I got nine separate calls from Keith this weekend, haha. I feel blessed.

It seems as though things are really starting together in Chicago. Not that they weren't going well before, but it seems like they're really going well right now. We're starting to realize that some parts of the program weren't quite what we expected, and as it applies to "things" that "are really starting together", we're accepting those things and moving on with life.

Things are going well in the apartment. Ani got me into Farscape, which is a sci-fi show... produced by Jim Henson's son, and features some awesome puppetry and robotry. I'm not embarassed to say I like it. And I got her into Six Feet Under, a fair trade. I think we're all three also going soon to see some musical that is not Wicked, and the tickets are cheaper.

Things are really starting to clean themselves up at Sunlight Africa. I'm coming into more responsibilities from my supervisor, and I'm beginning to bond more with my co-workers. (Though I still need to get this required time limit figgered out.) He left early on Wednesday and it was up to me to keep a good portion of the class busy for a good portion of an hour. As a result, I'm starting to, and learning to, contain the class more effectively. (Is contain even the right word? That means to be, the kids are responding to us in a more positive form. Contain? Not control, certainly.) This all might be because my boss hasn't been in the office for the last three weeks...

But I did find a quicker way home, cutting almost thirty minutes off of my commute. (Red Line -- Wilson to Jackson, 6X to 51st & Lake Park Ave.!) That makes the ride so much less stressful that I don't have to worry about whether or not there will be a 10-40 minutes wait for the bus home.

A good portion of the Albion College Mud Hens (my IM team) who aren't in the Chicago Center, came to visit us this weekend. We took them around Hyde Park and Chinatown. Like when I visited Kiesel last weekend, I'm kind of struggling with my existence back in Albion.

Can you really compare Big City Chicago to Small Town Albion? What am I even comparing?

Our friends were talking about the new president and classes and gossip and Facebook and Freshmen, stuff I haven't been around for.

I'm out of the loop.

I think I'm secretly afraid that everything and everyone there is going to have moved on without me. I think Tyler's going to New York City in the spring.

Also, Cleveland is up 2-1 over the Yankees. I think the New York Yankees are one disgustingly self-aggrandizing, self-contradicting, self-inflicted wound on the inner-thigh of major league sports... but I won't go into that. (And I think the Cubs are just as bad, but just one step below the Red Sox. I'll go into this later, after the World Series.)

That's The News From Lake Wobegon Where The Women Are Strong, The Men Are Good Looking, And The Children Are Above Average,

Steve

J. Edgar Hoover's Revelation

Dear Blogger,

Things haven't been busy or slow around here. I just kept forgetting to do stuff. I'm very far behind on some class work I need to get done.

All of a sudden, I started getting some subtle hints that I do have a life outside of Chicago. Here's some:

• I've been contacted in a number of ways by vague friends asking where I am, and why I'm not doing certain things at Albion.
• I have to send in an absentee ballot for voting in Oberlin.
• Inconsequentially, in the third largest city in the country, I can't find a single post office or stamps.
• The Indians are starting the playoffs tomorrow. Of course, the one year they broadcast the games on TBS is the one year I don't have access to TBS.
• I like Ohio.
• I went to see Kiesel in the Ukrainian Village on Saturday, and it made me realize that Albion is about 181 miles away, and that's where my friends are. And it makes me realize I need to do a better job of keeping in touch with them while I'm away...

I need to get going on stuff.

Stay Cool,

Steve

The Cultural Barrier and the Goat

Dear Blogger,

One of the guys I work with is African. He went down to a store nearby and bought some dinner for himself. He gave me some and when I told him I was having trouble identifying it--

Steve: What kind of meat is this?

Christian: Goat.

Steve: Goat?! WHAT?! I didn't know you could eat
goats...

Christian: Yeah, man. Everyone in Africa eats goats.

It tastes like beef, except it's harder to chew.

In case you didn't know, I hate goats.

He told me that everyone in Africa eats goat, and I believe him.

Steve: In America, we usually only use them for making milk and cheese.

Christian: Really? Do they kill the goats after they're done milking them?

Strange how that happens, isn't it?

XOXO,

Steve

The Barack O-Baramater

Dear Blogger,
Today we're having a birthday party for the Zabel Brothers. It'll be fun, and it better be fun, because I'm missing an Iron & Wine concert for this.

Remember about fifteen years ago when the big names in Chicago were Michael Jordan and Oprah Winfrey? Remember that?
We no longer find them amusing. How passé.

The big name in Chicago these days is Senator Barack Obama!

So 3W has taken it upon itself to make a Barack Obama Sighting. It's not easy. Here's what we do know:

1. He doesn't live in Hyde Park, like we thought. He actually lives in Kenwood, which is the neighborhood just north. Though, you would never be able to tell you'd left Hyde Park, so we'll claim him as our own.
2. The good senator isn't in town to often. My teacher Leesa tells me that he is understandably busy, and was only able to attend one of his daughter's soccer games this past year. So we're beginning to doubt that we'll ever actually see him, meaning that we might have to settle for just finding out where he lives.
3. Everyone in Hyde Park that has been here for a long time seems to know him. The Hyde Park Herald had an article a year ago when they interviewed everyone who's ever spoken to him. Apparently, his pizza delivery guy says he's a generous tipper, and Leesa says she saw him at Blockbuster all the time... these are all very encouraging.
4. David supposedly knows the general area where Barack lives. It's a brick house with tall shrubs and a big yard, with security detail in front. A picture of Barack in front waving to me would be a priceless picture.
5. Everyone here agrees that he's just a regular, old boy. That's very encouraging.
   

I can feel the net clasping around him right now.
We're also trying to guess what he'd name his dog. Kari said Sparky, I say Abraham Lincoln. (Another great Illinois politician.)

God Bless America,
Steve

Down And Dirty

Dear Blogger,

So down to this internship business.

I'm working at a place called Sunlight Africa Community Center, an after-school program for children of African immigrants, or children who are African immigrants themselves. I basically tutor them, mentor them, and I'm eventually going to organize workshops for them.

It's mostly a fun job, so far. I like helping the children with their homework and talking to them. (One kid, who I really like, he's learning to play the harmonica which I think is really really cool. I'm trying to get him to listen to Bob Dylan, partially so that I'll help spark his interest in music, and partially so that it will blow his mind he'll become a world famous musician because of me.) So far, it's been a decent internship.

I was really discouraged, though, after my first week of working there. The program itself was really disorganized. Meaning that if you put fifteen children, ages 7-14 in a tiny room for four hours, don't let them out but to use the bathroom, give them no physical outlet, and keep telling them to shut up-- they're going to be scratching the paint off the wall, they'll be so desparate. I was terribly upset with this, partially because I don't like yelling at kids, especially in a situation like this one, where it doesn't seem to particularly be their fault. (Kids do need space, everyone knows that.)

But mostly, I was disappointed with the organization itself. My boss told me that I would be doing more interacting with the children, on a personal level. I would be learning about them and their experiences as immigrants or children of immigrants. Being that this was the reasons I took the position, I was very disappointed that my boss would essentially lie to me. Whether or not she lied to me, though, is questionable. Sunlight Africa does a summer program which sounds more like what I thought I would be doing, where there's more interaction with the children on a personal level. And I might have been a little impatient with the program itself at that point, because this last week I got to know a lot of the students more personally, and I plan to learn more about their experiences through the workshops.

Other than that, things are going well at my internship. I like the people I work with. (I'll go into detail on that some other time.) The only problems left over are the problems I need to resolve with The Chicago Center. I'm still coming short on the time requirement. (24 hours a week, I'm only working twelve so far.) My advisor wanted me to work at another immigrant place in the morning, but that just seems to demanding of my schedule... so I just need to talk to him. I'll take care of that.

Regards,

Steve

Love Letter To 3620

Dear 3620,

Today is September 19th, International Talk-Like-A-Pirate Day! Are you really as excited as I am? Are you excited enough, 3620, to send me a text message at 6:30 a.m. Central Time, 7:30 a.m. Eastern Time, to remind me? Well, good!

Well, listen, as much as I support anything that has Dave Barry's Official Stamp Of Approval, in actuality, I really don't care at all. I'm not going to talk like a pirate, today, or any other day.

Sending a text message at 7:30 in the morning is socially inappropriate, I think everyone can agree on that. You woke me up to read some text message from a complete stranger. Don't be stupid.

Sending a text message to someone who isn't actually your friend at 7:30 a.m. is socially inappropriate. Sending a text message to someone who didn't even know you existed until he started getting your text messages at 6:30 a.m. is just straight-up stupid. I've called you stupid twice so far, so pay attention, moron. You'd think the first time I told you I wasn't your friend Lauren Christov, you'd pay attention and get her number right.

3620, I'm not your friend. I'm not Lauren Christov. Stop sending me her text messages. Get her damn number right and call her and talk to her. Stop texting me! Stop it right now!

I wish there were some better way I could tell you to stop, but when I call you, you probably don't answer the number because you don't know whose number it is. (Funny how that works, isn't it?) And on top of that, when I leave you a message, I can't understand what you're saying. Your message sounds like you're trying to be funny or something, but it sounds like you're doing a bad impression of a muppet.

Stop leaving me text messages, I don't like them. I've even gotten her telemarketers! AUGH!

~5412

PS-

3620, if I actually do know you, and you actually are my friend, call me. (Don't text me.)

One More Thing!

Dear Blogger,

Things are a little hectic here.

Mostly, they're just busy, though.

I have these tedious daily journals I have to write each day and the first batch is due on Thursday... I'm eight days behind. And I have to read some articles about something or other for my directed study on Thursday, and another article for Friday. It'll get done, though.

Other than that, here's what happened since Saturday:

1. Two intense hours of David v. Steve, 007 style, Saturday afternoon... we're still friends, though.

2. James Gandolfini was robbed of best actor in a drama series by James Spader. (Who? Exactly!) But The Sopranos won best dramatic series, so it's all good. (And Rachel Smiths didn't win for Brothers & Sisters, but I feel like she probably should have, based on her work on Six Feet Under.)

3. Went to Wrigley Field last night with my friends. Cubs were winning, then they were losing, and then they won in the bottom of the ninth. I don't really care about the Cubs, and I don't care whether they win the division or not, but Wrigley Field is such a great ballpark. There's no imposing sound system playing a different pop song every thirty seconds, or useless jumbo-tron, or dancing mascots. It's just a ballpark, with baseball being played the way God intended it. (But the Cubs myth is a little over-hyped, but that's different.) You go to Wrigley Field to watch a baseball game, not to watch it.

4. My internship is turning itself around nicely, as far as I can tell. We've made some sort of schedule and structure for the program so that feels like it's going to work. I'm making friends with the kids, making friends with the people I work with. But my intern advisor at the Chicago Center wants me to work at another place in the morning, which I don't think will work at all. I might get stuck with extra work from him, which would be fine.

I'm still a little strapped for time, here... leaving for work in about ten minutes. I'll talk more about my intern next time, I realize I'm being kind of vague. So just wait.

Kisses,

Steve

With Love From Chicago

Dear Blogger,
I've uploaded photos and it's about time, too!
Here they are:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/10959363@N05/sets/72157602008651454/detail/

I'll let you know when I post more-- it's easier to do them in batches and I have a monthly limit on Flickr.

Enjoy,
Steve

Gentle Revolution

Dear Blogger,

My friend David wrote, performed, and co-produced this video with his friend that I think is too good to go un-noted.



Yours,
Steve

Dear Blogger,

Yesterday I started my internship at Sunlight Africa Community Center, and it seemed to go pretty well. The kids are a lot of fun and they call me Mr. Steve. It was a little unnerving at first, having to tutor the kids in third grade math, a subject that I haven't had to consciously think about for almost thirteen years.

How do you explain place markers to a kid that doesn't read very well, or understand abstract ideas?

But this seems to be the problem in itself.

You see, the other interns and myself were under the impression that we would be organizing workshops for the kids, playing with them, and doing things with at least some slight sociological implications to make the internship slightly relevant to my future. You know, interacting with the kids, learning about their lives.

I'm not sure if I should be reconsidering my internship and talking to my advisor. We're having a meeting as a group on Thursday to go over things with our boss. Hopefully, things will pick up. I really don't want to waste this opportunity to do something great, just because I let my boss step all over me. But before I do anything, I'm going to go to this meeting and see what happens.

The Weather Is Beautiful Wish You Were Here,
Steve

Red Lining Chicago

Dear Dirty,

I had my first interview at Sunlight Africa Community Center, and it went well. I like the program.

I tutor African immigrant children/children of African immigrants, play games with them, organize workshops for them, and encourage them to have fun while learning. It sounds like a lot of fun.

In fact, I'd say it's the internship I'm probably going to take.

I say this because none of the other organizations I mentioned, as well as a few other I called on the wing, are responding. Also, I really do like the program and I could stand to learn a lot.

Mostly, for most of the day it was a matter of whether or not I was able to accept the position. Being an after-school program, I'd only be working from 2-6, Monday-Wednesday, we're expected to be working as though this were more of a full-time job. After a discussion of semantics both with my roomies and with myself, I came to the decision that I would be spending a significant amount of time finding books for the children, organizing the workshops once a week, as well as developing relationships with the children (which my boss was very specific about). And when I talked to the guy in charge of the internships later, he said that was okay.

My trip there was more stressful than it needed to be. I intended to take the 15 to the Red Line Train, ride that north, and get off for my interview. Sparing the useless and very embarrassing details, I got off at the Green Line, accidentally got on Orange Line, instead of the Red Line again, and caught up with again after (intentionally) getting on the Brown Line and transferring onto the Red Line. I'm not sure what neighborhood I was in, but it's just north of Wrigley Field.

The trip home was the best hour I'd had in a while. The last few days of finding internships have been so stressful and I felt really good on the way home. An interesting contrast to how I was feeling an hour earlier than that. The release of stress is probably the reason why I'm the only person in my apartment awake at 1:42 and writing this.

Today we also went to the art museum downtown. We were told to write a page in our daily journal things about one particular piece that sticks out in our mind. Impressionism for me, of course: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d0/Lautrec_jeanne_wenz_1886.jpg

God Speed,

Steve

We Were Dead Before The Internship Even Sank

Dear Blogger,

We started looking for internships yesterday. Here's a list of what was recommended for me:

1. Sunlight Africa Community Center: I talked to a woman there yesterday, and I would be tutoring/playing with children, ages 6-16, before and after school. In between those times, I assume I would be doing some sort of busy work. When I talked to the woman, she seemed really excited for me to intern there, giving me the feeling that I pretty much had the position if I wanted it... which is both good and bad. Good because I have an internship, but bad because I want to take this experience pretty seriously and learn some job application skills.

2. Yocalli Youth Radio: I told the people that I was kind of interested in broadcasting, which is kind of some weird pipe dream I have from when I was younger. I'd be working with hispanic children. I haven't called these people yet, so details are what I've gotten from their website. I don't know about this one, though. I don't speak spanish, which I imagine to be a problem.

3. Community Television Network: I'd be working with teenagers, to help them develop programs to develop. I liked their website, and they have some stuff on YouTube that looks pretty interesting. I called the place and left a message with a man who worked there, asking for them to call back. This looks to be my primary choice right now.

4. Providence St. Mel: A catholic school in the southwest part of the city. A college prep school, sounds kind of interesting. I'm going to call them later today.

5. Oscar DePriest Elementary School: I went here on Friday when we were learning to use the public transit. The guy who gave me this list told me to think about this, but it's probably at the bottom of my list. There are two other students working here, and I kind of want to be alone in the city and doing my own thing.

6. WBEZ: "From WBEZ in Chicago, you're listening to This American Life."

7. The Jerry Springer Show: I was flipping through the internship database, and I saw this. The contact number? 1-800-JERRY! Kari and Ani strictly forbade me from even calling. MJ told me I should do it. (An interesting ethnographic study on race, class, and gender.)

I'm going to be making calls and scheduling interviews all day today. Should be fun and engaging when I get more answering machines.

Take Care Of Yourselves And One Another,

Steve

But African Shea Butter Smells So Good!

Dear Blogger,

I've been spending a lot of time on Wikipedia these days.
(But don't we all?)

I came across the University of Chicago's Scavenger Hunt. A bunch of students put this thing together every May, and it looks like a lot of fun.

Here's the Wikipedia entry. Be sure to check out the lists from the past years on the hunt's actual website.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/University_of_Chicago_Scavenger_Hunt

Cheers!
Steve

The Jungle, But Only In A Semi-Ironic Use Of That Name... No Slaughterhouses Or Diptheria, Yet

Dear Blogger,
The last few days have been busy busy busy.

On Thursday, we all sat through two hours of staff introductions down by the lake where we all got really sunburned. These sorts of things are very important to inter-personal relationships among the students and the staff are very important. But two hours is a long time to sit in the sun.

Afterwards, Kari, Ani and I were sent into Hyde Park to learn our ways around the neighborhood, and find the Graduate School of Business Cafeteria, over by the University of Chicago. Hyde Park is such an interesting place, in that it's placed in a major city but it's very residential. It's actually very touching to see all the similarities between Hyde Park and Oberlin. (The area is heavily dependent upon the support of the school, it's fairly quiet, somewhat diverse but still kind of racially and economically segregated, and it's an easy place to walk around. Although, the U of C is certainly bigger, and as much as I love Oberlin's campus, the architecture at the University is beautiful.)

Being my 21st Birthday, we celebrated by going to see a play that we were required to see. It was called Resort 76. It was about a group of people living in the Jewish ghetto, and their attempts at survival. Most certainly not a Neil Simon play like I thought it was, haha.

Yesterday, we all learned how to read a map of the city, and ride the buses and the El. Chicago is a fairly simple city to get around in. (I'd go into more detail, but I actually just spent twenty minutes trying to describe it-- you have to see a map to really conceptualize it... sorry.) I was put into a group with two girls from the program who are student teaching at a elementary school on the west side of the city. We rode the buses and the trains out there, looked around, sat through a hectic teacher's meeting and then we left. The trip itself wasn't so great, but the experience was. It was the first time I had seen parts of Chicago, other than Downtown and Hyde Park. There are apparently a lot of poor people in Chicago, and it's also apparently really uncomfortable to be around them.

Having compared Chicago to Oberlin, let's be rational.
Really, after having spent only a few days in the city, I'm having a hard time comprehending how large Chicago really is. My imagination is severely limited, right now, to Hyde Park, and downtown Chicago. Other than that, I have no concept of what kind of city this is, or what kind of people live here. Driving through South Chicago today, we would be in front of the projects one minute, and then in front of Hugh Hefner's the next. (Everything just seems to happen at once.) On the trains, we can be in a residential area, and then go over a bridge and be surrounded by yards full of dead grass and rusted iron pipes and trucks being filled with boxes. They tell us not to walk around in these neighborhoods, and take the transit as much as possible to where we're going. The people around here don't look like they're having so much fun as the university students.

They told us while we were learning to use the transit that after a while we would all learn to ignore the city, and stop taking pictures of everything and bumping our heads against the windows of the buses when we see the Sears Tower (Omigod it's so huge!) and just act like everyone else in this city does.

Peace,
Steve

Light Flashing When Animal Present

Dear Blogger,
After surviving Northern Indiana with my parents, we finally made it to Chicago. My apartment is not actually on Lake Shore Drive like I thought, or on Lake Michigan like I secretly knew it wasn't, it's still in a nice little neighborhood. The surrounding buildings are adorable little brick buildings. Some have ivy creeping up the walls, some have American flags flying above doors. Just around the corner, there are line houses, with gates separating their little gardens and yards from the street. But then there are some hideous concrete buildings surrounding us and sucking up the sky.

My apartment itself is better than I really deserve. My three roommates and I have our own separate rooms, with is good. The ceilings are so high, the floors are all hardwood, the window in the shower stall looks out into a tiny little courtyard. (That's the only word I can think of-- it's about five feet by four. We can't see the bottom, but being on the third and top floor we can see the sky. Someone put chicken wire to keep the pigeons from getting in.) Unfortunately, we don't really have wireless internet yet, so the few pictures I have might be a long time coming.

The room I'm living in is my sweet, sweet baby. It's probably about the same size as my room at home, except with less of my crap. There's a bed, a dresser that comes to about my knee height, a closet that reaches back about six feet and is about four feet wide, and a body-sized mirror. I pulled the dresser to the foot of my bed so that I can sit on my bed and use my computer without sitting on the floor.

Having such a large, empty room and not having to share with someone is endlessly strange, and most importantly, not as lonely as I might have thought. I always try to exact what music is best for a room I'm in, and Andrew Bird's Weather Systems is the music for my room. It fills the empty space beautifully and I secretly hope that someone walks past my building some morning when it's playing and stops to listen to it.

That's how I'm feeling right now. There's so much going on right now and I love it. I'll update tomorrow or maybe later tonight. We're going into the city today with the rest of the group.

Sincerely,
Steve

Action/Adventure

Dear Blogger,

How are you? I'm doing well. Ten days until I leave! But before any of that, there have been developments since we last spoke:

I received my apartment address. (I won't give it to you unless you ask, or I want to give it to you.) I'm living with my friend Anneliese from Albion, and a girl from Oregon named Kari. The three of us are living in an apartment, and according to MapQuest, is on Lake Shore Drive and incredibly close to Lake Michigan. (Lake Shore Drive is the street that Ferris Bueller dances on, but I'm going to be a lot further south in Chicago than he was.) But before you get to jealous, we're not allowed to put tape on the wall, or sleep on the floor of our apartment. That's dumb.

Actually, you should be really really jealous because I get a Student ID to the University of Chicago's library, as well as the SIX public libraries in the city of Chicago. Oh, snap!

I'm still sifting through the available internships, and I'm particularly interested in working at St. Leonard's Home for ex-Offenders. Basically, they find jobs and a home and a future for former convicts. I'm not sure entirely what I'd be doing, but I visited the Jackson penitentiary for my developmental psychology class, and the man I interviewed was sure that he was capable of living succesfully after he was released. There are a few sociological prospects involved here that I'm interested in, and just as importantly, I'm hoping this internship will give me some kind of direction for my life after I'm released from Albion College.

There are ten days left! How should I get ready for my adventure?
Buy underwear! Finish Six Feet Under! Get organized! Get a cellphone! Get excited!

Love,
Steve

PS-
I’ve been told that Rachael will be in Hyde Park, and I forgot to note that Ryan Kiesel will also be somewhere in the city.

Introduction To The City Of The Big Shoulders

Dear Blogger,

Here's what I'm doing in the fall:

1. The Chicago Center. I'm going away from Albion for the fall to spend the fall semester within The Chicago Center, which is "the only nonprofit and independent experiential educational program for college students in the United States." Essentially, I live in an apartment in the city, and do an internship. (http://www.chicagocenter.org/)
2. Internship. I'm not entirely sure what I'll be doing. When I applied in the spring, I was still a Sociology/Psychology major, particularly interested in Child Psychology and I applied as such. Currently being a sociology major, I'll have to find something else.
3. Living. I'll be living in an apartment with a few other people. I have four good friends that are also going, and I'd like to live with them. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how the living arrangements work. (The woman from the program said she is sending out this information sometime later this week.) This is probably the most imposing part of the semester, right now.
4. Directed Study. Really, I'm pretty excited about this. I like learning on my own, with an instructor as a guideline. It has to be related to the major, so it shouldn't be a problem.
5. Being in the City. I think this speaks for itself: Chicago is apparently a big city, with a lot of things to do. As Keith, Kevin, Ani, and Ashly are all nearby, I probably won't be bored. Plus, Dan and David are both in Chicago. On top of the that: downtown Chicago, baseball games, The Navy Pier, plays, concerts, and eating dinner in restaurants. (Very exciting, eating out is.)

Right now, this is all I know about the program. Once I get more, I'll be posting more often.

Also, I'm hoping to get a new camera before I leave. I'll find a website for posting photos. Joe tells me Flickr is lovely.

Your Pal,
Steve

PS- My more astute readers might have noticed some changes, or some details that don't add up. (See if you can find them!) I made a few mistakes around here, and I tried to fix them and accidentally erased my last post. So I tried to recreate this post as best I could from memory.