Living in Coronaviursworld: reflections on St.Patricks' Day and shootings in Atlanta....

 3/18

That day again

St.Patrick’s Day has  come and gone for another  year. And a strange one it was. No parade for sure. Restaurants open under the 35% rule. Up and down the pub crawl strip of Amsterdam Avenue, practically every place has a minimum 30-40 minute to an  hour wait time for a seat ,no bar seats allowed,  indoors or

The Gate

even out. There is a nice live band playing between 81st and 82nd.

Live Irish music....

My friend and I ultimately find a table in a tiki bar, probably the only non-green spot on the strip. But a good place to have a drink and watch Irish the passing scene  outside. Socially distance and responsible, of course. 

I remember past St.Patrick’s Days like the Occupy Era ’s march to the Irish Potato Famine memorial and the passing out of potatoes to plant to the marchers.  Our San Patricio celebration at West Park with Mexican and Irish bands to commemorate the heroic battalion that went over to the Mexican side during the US- Mexico War.

I share here a previous reflection:

OK...the easy thing to do is just go all shamrocks and leprechauns and just say "Happy St.Patrick's Day everybody"...and forget that the first New York St. Patrick's Day parade was a demonstration  for respect and dignity by denigrated immigrants...and that the potato famine was not a natural disaster but the results of a nearly genocidal imperialist colonial agriculture policy by Great Britain..and that the refugees were viewed suspiciously....lived side by side by African-Americans in 5 points and Seneca Village...until they were accepted as white..that they were disproportionately drafted..and sent to Mexico in an imperialist war...West Point's first Irish graduate John Riley took his batallion to the other side where his mainly Catholic immigrant  conscripts joined the Mexicans as el batalon san patricio. When captured they were hung as traitors without the usual court martial trial . Honored as heroes  in Mexico. Hidden in history in the US until️ recently. El batalon san patricio presente!

And happy St. Patrick's Day!

                                                    ****

The recent murders in Atlanta are disturbing on a number of issues.  Right on the surface of course is the recent rise in anti-Asian animus in the US.  Much of this is rooted in  feeling helpless in the face of Covid ....or  the “China Virus” as the former president continues to  say even now. It’s like, hey, there must be somebody to blame…our need to personalize and embody the invisible enemy, 

The sheriff emphasizes that the accused was a self-described sex addict and “having a rough day.”   Dude…those were almost all Korean women you killed…don’t say it’s not about race. 

One  problem is how race intersects with sex. How Asian women’s bodies are sexualized and fetishized so a “sex addict” can see Korean women as his enemy.

W also have at work here micsogeny and dehumanization and failure to protect the lives  of sex workers. 

And not to mention how massacres waiting to happen actors get their guns in the first place. Sex addict explains very little when so much is revealed and demands to be engaged. 

Yes disturbing. Time for solidarity. And serious examination of these American societal dynamics. 

Sprung

4/28

Anna’s on the sidewalk with puppy as I approach the 86th street door. Talking with a woman at the bus stop. 

Anna, what’s up?

I’m just helping this woman. Telling her where she can get some services. Oh and I’ve got something for you....a whole bag of paper and other decorative items to dress up our advertising boards.

Thank you  Anna, as I enter. 

Lee Breuer

Stephen’s all excited to tell me about his afternoon with Lee Breuer and his rehearsal. Lee’s long known for his years with Mabou Mines Theatre Company, La Mama and his Gospel at Colonnus gospel music retelling of Oedipus. (I’d seen it in revival  the old Apollo on 125th a few years back...) He’s got a new project in development. Called in his collaborators from the west coast, the south, all over. Stephen says the music was off the charts. And Lee wants to come back again in  August. (http://www.maboumines.org/lee-breuer) 

Martin and I trying to figure out if we have one more play to make. He’s got meetings. Then to Lee’s reading in Brooklyn. 

Cara helping clean up from the weekend before making a Brooklyn trip with Stephen.

                                                                 Harvey, the movie

I go off with Poet Tim and Mandola Joe and Katie to join in RL’s carefully choreographed welcome home for his wife Jean, better known as Harvey, after the rabbit, ( whose been sprung from the Big House, ie, Kateri Residence, for the first time in six months.  

When I get back, Dorothy and Ralph from the contemporary string quartet Ethel are here to meet with Ted and Mim and Danielle to discuss their group’s wanting to use the space, become part of the family.(http://www.myspace.com/ethelcentral) 

While I’m talking with them, Jessica arrives to help me talk through an issue with one of our people. We realize we’re not helping. He’s going to have to go, but he’s so far resisted any efforts at getting services that require an eval.  I go up and he’s not there, just three TV’s going on, one just static.

Jessica and I review the whole history of our experience with Occupy. The mental health war zone that came along with it. We talk about who made it safely out. And who didn’t. Who’s safe at home. Who’s recovered. And who just disappeared. Those heady days when whatever you dreamed of seemed possible. The time of hyper real presence at West-Park and how it consumed me and breathed new life into us all. Only last year. But seems longer. Jessica giving herself time to recover and redirect.

This is hard for me. I just don’t want to put him out on the street. I’ve got to be straight with him. Tell him I need a solution that I feel good about and that’s good for him. And I need his help to do that. And if he says  no, what then?

My friend John G. stops by to pick up tickets for tonight’s Yankee game. Not even enough time to talk church politics.  Or even gossip.

The Center Board is here for updating. Lots to be excited about programming wise. Lots to be discouraged about negotiations wise. Jamie joins us by conference and there’s no good late breaking news on that front. We  need to get moving on  the strategic planning and the Center can’t move forward until the church has gotten clear. And as always, just so much hanging in limbo. 

A woman comes in looking for a flamenco class but the 7:30’s been canceled as Soli tries to figure out what’s up with her knee. 

See Jane on 86th.
How are you feeling?
Shrug. OK
You're body language says something different. So hard to live with so many things in limbo. 
Out on that tightrope without any net.
God is the net.

It’s late as I’m finishing and Jay just looks in to see what’s going on. It’s just me. His plans for school in Colorado moving forward. 

The seventh day of Christmas: Two bottles of champagne and a large painted plaster statue of the Virgin Mary

12/31

I’m concerned when I go to the church and find the door already open, lights on and Occupiers gathering. I had carefully deadbolt locked the door with Jason when we left last night.  Wonder if the boiler guys are there, but no. An old homeless guy in the bathroom....I have my ideas, but can’t know for sure. I share my concerns with Jason and Jeff. The Housing Work Group is meeting yet again. 

I run some errands, go home to check in with my family and go back to lock up. But the meeting is still rolling on. I share my concerns that propping the door open just doesn’t work for me. Back in my office, I find two bottles of champagne and a large painted plaster statue of the Virgin Mary. The champagne? Well, RL’s been here. I try to imagine RL and the intensely serious Occupiers. As for the Virgin Mary? Well, I just don’t know. 

Gather my champagne and head for a late afternoon coffee with Jane. Then head back to lock up. Short time before heading to Joe’s Pub to see Martin’s Noche Flamenca at Joe’s Pub. It’s New Year’s Eve.

A legend and a true legend

12/6

The day after. While cleaning up, Occupier Dan, aka DJ Nomad, notices my hat and asks what the G stands for.  I explain that it is for the Homestead Grays, the old Negro League from Pittsburgh, that the H on my jacket is for the same team. He laughs and says, And the legend grows. I look puzzled. Uh, he says that with some of the occupiers, you're a legend. Tell him what you guys call this place, says Amanda. The miracle on 86th Street, says Dan. I laugh.  Remembering the ticket seller at Laura's performance I say, Well that"s better than   you know, the creepy church.  Apparently they find being a part of a community different than just sleeping in a building.

There's a steady stream of congratulatory e-mails and phone calls. Most meaningful is the call from my mentor and true legend, George Todd. One of the co-founders of the ground breaking urban ministry East Harlem Protestant Parish, former PCUSA urban staff person, urban staff for the World Council of Churches in Geneva, former Presbytery of New york City Executive Presbyter, and in many ways a facilitator of the establishment of democracy in Korea through his arranging for leaders to find refuge at Stony Point, his words are especially  moving. He said that we have found our ministry. 

Luli from Noche Flamenca is in to try and finish negotiations. Now she is gravitating towards the chapel and the session room, spaces we really can’t afford to let go of. 

A conversation with Sandy goes in an unexpected direction. Stories about her apartment that would normally strain credibility.  Except...her story is almost identical to that of P_____, who I always assumed was just, well, paranoid. In both cases, there is a vulnerable single woman in a rent stabilized apartment rented at a fraction of market rate per month. There is a possibility of an organized harassment going on here that's at least worth exploring. I need to get them together.

Jason is tall, striking. He left a home and work in western Massachusetts to come join the Occupy movement. He has a particular responsibility related to finding meeting space and relationships. Making the relationship more formal would be helpful to both of us. Later, Amanda will go down to Occupy headquarters and talk for two hours to better understand where things are headed.  

Teddy's taking a look at the door that was damaged the other night when some people tried breaking in.  The gala was great, but now,all too soon, it’s back to business.