Election day: Measured. But hope nonetheless

11/5

Election day.  Sending out the word that we’re in. And thanks to all who got us through. Including Gale, our city council member running for Manhattan Borough President.

The Bread and Puppet people still buzzing.

I spend the night back and forth between two parties, Gale and Helen who’s running for Gale’s old seat.

Interesting contrast. Helen’s is in the back of the Firehouse, an old after session meeting hang out place back in the day. Typical neighborhood spot. Sports bar atmosphere. A Syracuse jersey above the bar. Helen’s party is in the back. Up front there’s a trivia game and  basketball on TV. In the back, they’re pulling up the election coverage on WCBS. Almost immediately after the polls close, Bill Di Blasio, Democrat and Working  Families candidate for Mayor has already been proclaimed the winner.

Helen’s serving up wings and nachos and pitchers of beer and well drinks. And her trademark cookies. Even though she’s been an insider, Community Board chair and all, she had to run against the machine, the local clubs. It wasn’t her turn. And much to our amazement, the one who’s turn it was supposed to be, wound up with the Working Families nomination. Not Helen. So no straight WFP vote for me.

Marc, Gale and Bob

Four blocks down the street at Corvo Bianco, a trendy Italian restaurant, Gale has taken over the whole place. Lists are checked. Black ribbons for drinks. Waiters with bruschetta and flat bread with pesto and meatball sliders.  A screen with streaming New York 1 coverage.  The liberal establishment making its rounds. As well as activists whose causes she has championed like Marc and others from the Interfaith Assembly on Homelessness and Housing. And more than a few former Occupiers who lived at West-Park who have embedded themselves in city electoral politics.  I make the rounds, offer my congratulations. And thanks. Wondering what Gale’s first victory party was like back when she first began her political career.

Decide to finish the night back at Helen’s. She’s finally arrived. And has won handily. A very well done campaign. Her young volunteers in their blue Helen shirts give it an energy like winning a big game on a campus. Helen renews her promise to turn her attention to West-Park. And her aides-de-camp talk about getting  an early meeting with local clergy and faith community leaders to hear our concerns and agenda.

Helen and Bob

I walk up the street with a sense of hope. Measured. But hope nonetheless.

Tomorrow we’ll learn that  WFP has taken the top three city elected positions and at least 9 city council seats.

Political calculations

9/11

After my morning neighborhood lectionary meeting, to the church. I review with Danielle last night’s political visits. First, to Gale Brewer’s victory party. I go to her campaign headquarters just in time for her victory speech. Yes, we’ve had our differences. Yes, the as of yet unfilled promises still hurt. She had a chance to help us pull through the barren season of summer, but her campaign was her primary concern. We pulled through, as always, by the skin of our teeth. On our own. No politicians. No denomination. No philanthropists. On our own. Again.

Still, we made a political calculation. It is better to have her now in the position of Manhattan Borough President with the knowledge that there is still an unpaid debt, than someone we don’t know, have no relationship with. We found the old article from the Daily News reporting her vow to raise 10.5 million. We’re still waiting. 

Still, I looked around. Many of my progressive friends like Marc G from the Interfaith Assembly on Housing and Homelessness and other housing activists were there. A who’s who of liberal Democrats from around the city.And as always, the common folk of the district who always found her door open. Gale is not a charismatic leader or skilled rhetorical polemicist. BUT, she has been one of the hardest working and effective politicians in the city. Tireless. And usually on the right side. She entered late but played it smart, played it wise. Avoided taking sides in the divisive mayor’s race. And won. I get my face time. My hug time. She promises we’ll work together. Her people tell me how important we are to the community. I offer my congratulations. Sincerely. But we’re not going away.

Then hearing Helen Rosenthal was about to be declared the winner, down to her party at the Firehouse. Of all the contestants for Gale’s City Council seat, she was the only one to openly speak of how the community had let us down. And to promise to hold their (amplifying adjective here) feet to the fire. She was not the machine candidate. It was, as they say,  not her turn. But she ran  a strong and wise grass roots campaign. Hers is a younger crowd. A bright and idealistic crowd. Again face time, hug time, congratulations. Accountability will come later. We were with the winners this time. (Including come from behind furthest left -- relatively speaking -- mayoral candidate Bill De Blasio who Deacon Pat introduced me to weeks ago at a meet and greet where I pushed him on income inequality..)

Now for the general elections in November...

Dennis is in for logistical work  for the Assembly’s panim al panim (face to face) life skills program that we’ll welcome to West-Park keeping our long connection with the IAHH alive.

Mid afternoon I skype with Zeljko,still amazed at seeing someone a world away in Serbia on my screen  as we strategize how co connect with peace centers across the country.

Coffee with Jane to catch up with Sanctuary’s plans. And reflect on our two years of living together at West-Park.

Then to Mac's to talk with Michael S about securing a place for RL in the house long term.  We'll catch up with RL at the Gate.

Tomorrow, off to Pittsburgh.

Had to remind myself, today was the 12th anniversary of 9-11.

The day began on the steps of City Hall

5/31

I ride the subway back uptown with my colleague Alistair.

What do we want? Housing.When do we want it? Now

We’ve been on the steps of city hall following last night’s sleepover in City Hall Park, in a sense a ritual act (in the sense that Bill Tripp has educating us about) commemorating and celebrating the occupation 25 years ago. City Hall Park....and the steps of City Hall....transformed into ritual space. 

We were there to join the emerging coalition calling for a new housing policy for New York City that could preserve a space for the middle class here.The Coalition to End Homelessness Now. Part of that coalition is Habitat for Humanity, known for their hands on approach, rebuilding houses one at a time....Thankfully Habitat’s Matt Dunbar is open enough to say that at the current rate it would take 5500 years for Habitat to build enough houses. Yes, 5500 years, Policy change is needed. And so they created the Hammer  and Pen campaign including a long scroll to collect signatures of citizens demanding policy change. Today we will roll those scrolls down the steps of City Hall and ask mayoral candidates to sign

Rolling out the scroll

on. We will learn that today there are over 55000 in the city’s shelter system including 23000 children.

Long time sympathetic council member Sal Abanese,who was there 25 years ago to talk with the homeless occupation, is first to sign. Followed by Republican George Mc Donald has  spent his entire public  career seeking legitimate solutions in a classic Republican (think Eisenhower) way. Then finally council speaker Christine Quinn. Who after she signs, draws all the press attention. She is of course, the presumed front runner. She should be the progressive’s favorite with the real potential to be the city’ first woman, not to mention lesbian mayor. But just below the surface, she is a classic New York City Irish take no prisoners politician. She will do what she needs to do to get what she wants.

I spot our own council member Gale Brewer, now running for Manhattan Borough President. Clearly a friend of Homeless Activists. And get her invited to sign as well. I wish I were wearing my collar. Dressed as a normal person, I’m just a body. Alistair, who spent the night bit went home for his collar,  and I agree, it was a good event....

Back at West-Park, Stephen tells me there is the smell of death in the sanctuary. He’s right. And that fills me with dread. When Danielle arrives, we’ll both don masks and enter the pigeon tower, the forbidden zone, to investigate. God knows, I’d love to just send her by herself, but I can’t allow that. So we go together. And find nothing. So we’ll investigate the whole sanctuary. And then together sweep the steps. And I’ll take care of dumping the decomposing dead mouse. (This is true urban ministry.)

He assessment was that the storm soaked the pigeon guan and the sun baked to foulness. We throw open the windows and burn scented candles all day.

Stephen will be tied up in meetings with Martin for hours seeking the elusive solution. 

A man from a theatre company come wanting to check out space. Seems his production takes place while most of the audience is sleeping...OK, then....

I hear a noise and find Edward Green on the steps with a ton of cardboard. Edward, you have to go. I say. You can’t be here. He eyes me, angrily, OK,  you made your point. I’m going. Taking my stuff with me. 

I come back later. He’s still there. Still glowering. I already told you I’m going. I already have a father, he’s older than you. (Maybe, maybe not...)

Edward is still on a wanted poster at Capital Hall. And persona non grata here. He’s the living challenge to my policy of unqualified acceptance. (But not the only one...)

In the sanctuary, a  woman is quietly praying...

Stephen comes in after his  hours of conversation. The dream is still alive. Still possible....but.....

My friend John Scotland arrives from Brigantine, New Jersey. Fighting his own battle with a Presbytery to keep his soup kitchen alive. His laughter speaks of cynicism, reality, determination and faith. But tonight’s agenda will only include his Red Sox vs. our Yankees at Yankee Stadium.(Another ritual space...) Stephen of course, shares his Red Sox tattoo. The first time I hear Boston sucks, I know that we are moving past the marathon attacks.....

Later, after the Yankees hold on to win, I’ll return. Stephen is staffing the Collegiate School alumni event. After I explain to someone that it’s a legitimate party, not some after hours affair, it's time to head home.

                                                                      * * * * 

I wish my #OWS friends could have read Jiler's Sleeping with the  mayor...25 years ago, the homeless occupiers of City Hall Park, kochville,  tried to create a community of radical acceptance, radical democracy, perhaps even sustainability.  They faced just what #OWS did long ago. And their failures, as well las their successes, were important lessons.