Sunday Stroll 12.30.12 - A Stroll Through the Year

I spent most of the afternoon cleaning out the attic.  The only actual strolling I did today was around the block with Regis, a neighbor boy who wanted to take our dogs on a walk.  The pit bull he was keeping showed some aggression toward Daisy, so I walked a good distance behind them instead.  I laughed so hard at his suggestion that I would have time to "change my pants" while he went to get his dog.  He was embarassed to be seen with me in sweats that had attic insulation and dust all over them, so I can only assume he was grateful we couldn't walk together!

Yesterday was full of visiting and catching up with some dear friends over breakfast and again over lunch.  2012 has been a difficult year in a few ways.  There were some terribly challenging days at work, with personnel issues, added work load, and a good but overwhelming amount of work on grants and reports that interrupted nearly a week of vacation and consumed my late summer and fall.  This summer I struggled with feeling insecure living in the neighborhood. I experienced the first break in I've had since the earliest days of renovation and at least two neighbors were affected by some "wannabe gang" violence, thankfully perpetrated by young, stupid, ineffective boys.  People close to me suffered heart-wrenching losses and challenges.  My relationship with a dear neighbor has been shattered by the ravages of a mental illness that has made me the focus of her delusions.

But the day of reflecting reminded me that even this difficult year has held joys and encouragement and goodness - and thus my Sunday stroll through just a few highlights from a year that I often thought I would be glad to leave behind:

You just can't beat these beautiful
nieces and nephews!

Spring was official "beach season" beginning with a grown up girls week in Seaside and culminating with a family trip to Fripp Island.  



Reading with my nieces

Playing with my sisters!

Yep, 17 folk piled in to one fantabulous beach house and loved nearly every minute of being with each other.  It's a wonder, these amazing people with their unique personalities, abilities, and interests who are so connected to my very heart.

Still a little sunburned and just about tired of each other, we convened in Tennessee to host the celebration of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary.  Every minute working and rushing was worth it to me on that beautiful afternoon as friends and family shared in the joy of the occasion. 

For 3 years now, I've had the privilege of meeting with a wonderful small group. Most of these women were new to Atlanta when the Bible study started.  As we've studied Scripture and prayed together, we've also shared joy, grief, change, and struggle. 



 

Don't get me wrong.  "Hard" doesn't equal "Bad" any more than "Fun" always equals "Good".  Some of the best things about 2012 have come from the faith that grew from the  most difficult of circumstances.  As I sat on the dusty attic floor this afternoon, I found this from a journal of what was undoubtedly the Worst Summer Ever more than 7 years ago:

 

"Even in Laughter the heart may ache,

and the end of joy may be grief" Proverbs 14:13

 

I can't go back, but I don't want to go forward. My feeble praise - that I am known by One in all the bitterness, joy, aches, and griefs of my heart - rises weakly from the depths of pain and fear. Will there be a day of seeing beyond now? Of a vision of Christ's glory that is big enough to include every grief so that it becomes joy?...The praise song in Revelation is sung by those whose deepest griefs, joys, and sins have been taken up, borne, known by the One they worship.  What a day!  When tomorrow seems impossible - help me hope for that day and the beginning of that day now.

 

"The crucible is for silver, and the furnace is for gold, and the Lord tests hearts." Prov. 17:3

 

 



Sunday Stroll 12.2.12

 

Sunday's stroll was in the neighborhood - by the community garden and down the street. . .

By abandoned and broken homes on the left. . .

And abandoned and broken homes on the right . . .

But finding signs of life in each place...

 

narcissus blooming for the holiday in an empty garden bed

 

 and a truck in a driveway unloading friends who are now neighbors, filling up the empty spaces of a street and community.

Why I moved

Seth Rogin, in his blog about marketing, describes very succinctly  why I moved.

The Eve of All Saints

I wonder if it could be a glimpse beyond Hallowe'en to the saints that will be for our community.

Gathering for a parade down the park before trick-or-treating

Daisy was a hit as the resident "lab-ra-pumpkin"

Simple Life in the City

If you were to peek into my Google Reader right now and scroll down to the "Lifestyle" category, you would find subscriptions to a host of homesteading and gardening blogs that tout a simple, self-sufficient and sustainable lifestyle.  I gravitate there, I dream there, I follow a couple of idealistic 'train wrecks' there. 

Or you could peruse my Pinterest boards about gardening and the home, where I lovingly post pictures of rustic and rural and simple style.


Copyright What's in A Home?

But that isn't where I really live.

Why is it that I am of "two minds" about my actual choice of lifestyle and the lifestyles that absorb my online attention? Am I foolishly living in the wrong place? Or do those minds meet somewhere hopeful and helpful?

I love the pictures of harvests, the stories of livestock and sustainable home improvements in the homesteading blogs.  Yet the world of the homestead in the blogger universe sometimes seems uniform and isolated; a community that is generally one color and one persepective.  I connect with the descriptions of hard work, homemade bread on the counter, laundry on the line,  and dirt under the fingernails. But not with the sense I get sometimes that the ultimate goal is to get away from all the trouble in the world and take care of yourself.

The view from my front porch is rich and diverse.  My relationships with my neighbors definitely offer many different perspectives.  It inspires me. And it exhausts me. 

In the very same place I'm trying to grow my own food in raised beds around the yard, I'm also trying to figure out how to keep out whoever keeps breaking into my house and stealing food from my freezer.

So I run away to the blogs about the "simple" life and long for a change.

What exactly do I think "simple" means? Easy? Undistracted and serene?

Well, not exactly.  Here are some definitions I found:
Not involved or complicated; easy to understand
Unadorned
Consisting of one part only, not combined or complex
Modest
Sincere
Frank

(Granted, it also means weak in intelligence or feeble-minded.)



Copyright What's in A Home?  Lyrics from GoodieMOB

Let me be frank.  The question that is eating away at me is whether there is a way to embrace the things that I so naturally enjoy and am interested in (including a garden and a creative outlet in my home) and all the while live an easy-to-understand, unadorned, unadulterated, and sincere life that is rich in relationships, invested in others and in community, and, most importantly, connected vibrantly to the very heart of Jesus.  Can I live this way in this city?  I don't know. 

It isn't easy.  It isn't serene and undistracted.  In short, it isn't MY definition of "simple".

"Love must be sincere.  Hate what is evil; cling to what is good."  Romans 12:9

MLK Day Celebrations

January 17 was a different type of MLK Day. The normal day off at work was canceled in order to catch up on the many appointments missed during the snow days the week before.  And I think it was a good choice; surely providing affordable healthcare to those who lack insurance and resources is a great way to serve.

Last night, my newest neighbors hosted a dinner planned while we were sledding with neighbors the week before.  It was a wonderful gathering of long-time neighbors and new, young and old, black and white.  We shared a simple meal, and the olders ones among us told stories of their experience during integration and the civil rights movement.  One lady told us Dr. King had once dated her husband's niece when they were in high school!

While the older ones told us stories of having to give up a trolley seat to any white person who entered the car or standing in the rain at a bus stop waiting for a white women to walk all the way down the block and get on the bus first, it seemed to me that they were exercising a gracious restraint in not telling those of us in the room who were white more painful things that they had experienced.

It was a special and humbling thing for me to share this meal with my neighbors.  I was reminded of how much I have to learn and how worthwhile it is to build relationships that bring down the barriers between us all.

"Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable... Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals."  Martin Luther King, Jr.

Snow!!

My Christmas tree gets
a second life.



 The snow that blanketed my city and my neighborhood was an equal-opportunity beautifier.  Trash and ragged yards disappeared and only the beautiful lines of old homes and stately trees stood out.  I lost count of the number of times I said, "I never noticed that cute house before!" 

It also provided some equal opportunity socializing as we all scrounged for items likely to make a decent sled.  (for the record, it was the trash can lid that worked the best).


Snowballs



sled dogs

trash can lid sledding

Daisy doesn't love the ice!

Them

have you read this fictional book about a white couple that moved into the primarily African American Old 4th Ward neighborhood in Atlanta? They bought a great old house for a good price. It had wonderful views of the downtown skyline and they were nice people. But when they encountered the realities of their new neighborhood they were in a whole new world that they didn't understand and alternately feared, resented, and pressured to change.

Yesterday I drove by to check on the community garden and noticed, to my shock, that a neighbor has put a for sale sign in front of his house. He moved into the neighborhood about 18 months ago, enthusiastic about discovering the next "intown real estate gem" with our old bungalows and parks. He has my best dog-walking companion.

In his 18 months here he has visited a neighborhood association, become vice president of the association, quit the association because no one wanted to really work on anything. He's sent untold numbers of emails to our councilmembers, former mayor, and new mayor about abandoned properties, undesireable businesses, and noisy car stereo shops. He has joined with a group of mostly white neighbors who want to form their own neighborhood association because they are all frustrated about having to work with the current neighbors.

I'll confess that I've often joked that he wanted to be the new president of Grove Park. But his frustration, to the point of selling and moving, has made me think. It's not a bad thing to get involved in the neighborhood and take issues by the horns. I've felt a little guilty that I haven't been that involved. Is there another issue here?

I don't really know for sure. But I suspect that the reason that he's ready to throw in the towel is one of perspective. This neighborhood is probably in worse shape than it was 2 years ago if you are looking at abandoned properties (increased), businesses opening that provide community benefit and improvement (none at all), or even a reduction in crime. (Though I'm pleased to report that one of the 2 known drug dealer houses on the corner is now empty and up for rent). Grove Park is not one bit closer to being the next "intown real estate gem" than it was in 2008. If that is the primary goal for being here, it would be frustrating beyond belief. He's not the only neighbor that feels this way. But that's another post.

I think that my neighbor fails to recognize just how much he represents "Them" and as a result does not appreciate the need for patience and humility in approaching our neighbors who have been here for years. Don't get me wrong. He's one of the friendliest guys you could meet. He may know more names of neighborhood association members that I do. He does care about this being a nice place to live. But what I suspect he does not realize is how much more time, love, and true understanding it must take to break down the barriers that a long history of racial injustice have built high and deep.

I hope we have many more nights to walk our dogs before his house sells. And I pray for the courage to ask him some questions that, just maybe, will expand his perspective. I pray that my own perspective will also grow and become more and more true in my relationships here as well.

Grove Park Community Garden

We launched a community garden for the neighborhood with a work day on April 18. We built 9 raised beds and built up the soil with lots of wonderful compost. The land is in our city park and given to us by the city. The hope is that it will become a garden that draws the community together, increases our mutual pride in the neighborhood, and ultimately provides healthy, fresh organic produce. The local schools and park summer programs for kids are going to participate in the garden too!

Been Thinking

Today I spent the entire day working on my front yard landscape. I've spent a lot of time thinking what I want to do, carefully saving up for what I could afford now, deciding what could wait until later, and reaping the benefits of surplus from friends' yards. It was good to more solidly plant another "root" in Grove Park.

This fall and winter, I felt quite isolated and not plugged in here at all. In fact, I had begun to wonder if I would ever be able to make any inroads. Plus some of the next steps of "cross cultural" adjustment were happening: the days when everything was wonderful and interesting passed, and a season set in when I couldn't stand anything about where I lived. Not the way people seem to always yell when they communicate, my inability to understand what some people on the street were saying, the apparently irresistable need for the guys hanging out at the corner store to keep making comments louder and louder to get my attention, and the seeming endless lottery ticket lines at every overpriced convenience store.

So I've been "saving up" to post some observations about my neighborhood based on the end of the honeymoon and hopefully the passing of the days when I couldn't see anything good about it either.

Gas always costs at least 10 cents more per gallon anywhere near my house. I have the luxury of often being able to get it cheaper when I'm running an errand in another part of town.

My car insurance doubled in the fall. Doubled. I haven't had an accident or a ticket. I drive 3 miles round trip to work, compared to the 12-15 I drove when I lived in Decatur and paid half for my insurance and 10 cents per gallon less for my gas. It doubled simply because of my zip code. I won't ever be so quick to say that people who don't make much money should be more responsible about keeping their car insured. I'm not sure how anyone affords it in a neighborhood where the median income is about half what my salary is. (and my salary isn't big).

There isn't a Publix or Kroger in my neighborhood. If you don't have a car, you have to shop at the Super Giant or convenience store or take 3 buses (45-55 min each way?) to get to the nearest Publix and then you can only buy what you can carry back by the same way. That Publix does sell chicken feet though

Papa John's won't deliver a pizza to my street.

At the local NPU (neighborhood planning unit) meeting last week, it was announced that Fulton County has passed an ordinance that a dog can't be left on a chain or rope all the time. This was followed by a long and sincere discussion about why Fulton County would want all those dogs running loose and not tied up. It was not an option to fence the yard or keep them inside. (I'm casting an eye toward my pup curled up asleep under my dining room table and my old dog curled on her bed by the door as I type this). My favorite quote of the evening: "To give an animal freedom, we must enclose it."

The list of ad hoc NPU committee priority needs includes: abandoned and derelict houses that play home to drug dealers and prosititutes, prosititution, concern about businesses opening in the neighborhood that have lately included a pawn shop, an application for a pool hall, and one of those tax credit loan shops.

The best collard greens I've ever tasted were around the corner at a restaurant called Soule. But when I walked the 2 blocks home just after dark at 6:15, I had 2 people pull up next to me assuming I was a prostitute. (see the ad hoc committee list above)

The South Evelyn Community Club is trying to resurrect. I'm amazed and encouraged at the people on my street who have known each other and lived together for more than 40 years now. There's incredible history that I'm blessed to be now included in. They are even letting me host the April meeting.

The Grove Park Community Garden has been approved by the city and will open after Easter. It may only be me and Chris T., who started it to begin with, but it seems quite hopeful.

I don't know that I have any point to this post, except to point out the realities of my chosen community with its warts, its beauties, and the injustices and obstacles it faces.

And as I go to publish this post, I hear 3 gunshots. It's not even 9 p.m., but it's a warm night and people have been out and about ( and some of them drinking) all day.

Days of Remembrance and Hope

Where you are makes such a difference in how you see things that happen, I'm learning. The back to back days celebrating Martin Luther King's birthday followed by the inauguration of Barak Obama as the first black president are days I think I see differently because of where I live.



About half of the houses on my street are owned by older black people who raised their families and lived out their careers in this neighborhood. They have lived through the decline of the neighborhood in the 80's and 90's when more and more of the neighborhood was taken over by drug dealers and gang members, suffering as poverty and crime affected everyone.



Each older neighbor I have met told me that they moved here in 1963. What does that mean? It means that as soon as one black family bought a house here, all of the white people sold their homes and fled to the white suburbs. The pastor of Paradise Missionary Baptist around the corner told me the building was sold to his congregation by a white church in 1965.



My neighbors have changed how I see this election and the new president. My neighbors lived in the Jim Crow south, being turned away from restaurants and the front of buses, drinking from separate water fountains and using a different entrance to the theater. My neighbors lived through the civil rights movement and encountered all of the resistance and recriminations of those who hated change. My neighbors have been teachers, pharmacists, firefighters, and housekeepers. They sent their children to college. My neighbors experienced continued oppression in neighborhoods that became neglected and blighted partially because they were primarily black.



Even if I can never fully know what it is like for my neighbors to watch the inauguration of President Obama, living here has given me a small taste of how momentous these days have been. It doesn't take the media hype for me to see the connection drawn from the dream of Martin Luther King as he spoke on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial to what the oath taken on the Capitol steps symbolized.

Running 'round here

Fiscal considerations have caused me to put my gym membership on hold for now, so any running I do must be done outside. (Brrrr!) It's been another opportunity to venture out in the neigborhood in search of the miles I need.

I can go in circles around the park on my own block, but since this is the only place I walk the dogs, I'm rather bored with that. So far, I've ventured down the main road that runs through the neighborhood on a quiet Sunday morning and during daylight rush hour. (Don't worry, I have a neat little elastic wristband with pepper spray for stray dogs and other unsavory characters.)

Soon, my work will relocate to a new building only a mile and a half from home. Since we'll have a shower there, I'll be able to switch 2 runs a week to my lunch hour and run home, let the dogs out and run back.

One Sunday I passed Chris and Star, a couple who live on my block, on my way back from a run. They were on their way to church, but we took a moment to talk about running and a half marathon that's in late March here. To my great surprise and delight, Chris showed up at my door several days later and asked about the race. We talked about running routes. It's so exciting that they may do this run. I may even gain a running partner.

I have discovered that things move slowly here (or maybe it's me). It's the first time he's set foot in my house. Most people on the street, no matter how kind and friendly, have not invited me into their homes. Only Miss Mamie and Johnnie (a young woman from the next block) have come into my house before this.