Riding the bus can be an interesting human experiment. A wide range of characters are obliged to inhabit and coexist in a confined space for a period of time, often with various degrees of harmony. But there is also an interesting dynamic that starts from the moment you enter this vessel of suspended discord.
I was riding the Blueline train the other day and this young black man was trying to get my attention. He wasn’t that cute, he was too young, and I have a boyfriend.
I mean I have a boyfriend; even if he were the right age and was cute I definitely would not have talked to him. I don’t think.
Anyways me ignoring him pissed him off, so he proceeded to call me a “f*cking b*tch.â€
It was weird, because I haven’t been called a bitch by a black guy (that wasn’t homeless) in years. The last time a black man called me a bitch was when I brought a white guy friend on accident (sort of) to a coffee shop that was very heavy on Nation of Islam types. Well this guy didn’t so much call me a bitch, but pulled out a gun and threatened to kill the guy I was with (he said he didn’t believe in hurting black women,) that actually happened. Awesome story, but that’s another post.
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The 24 hr Cafe is a western themed place in the industrial part of Long Beach. This family owned establishment has been serving customers with home cooked meals since the early days of diners and coffee shops.This place pretty much is considered a truck stop and by all means has the elements of one, but I say it’s a truck stop with some character!
I’ve passed by this Cafe many times, but I never really thought about eating in there. One day I just happen to be riding around taking pictures and stopped right in front of it, just like a magnet I was somehow drawn in.
It was like a bad B-movie with the powerful, evil conglomerate evicting the struggling protagonists—for a profit. Once a PR tool used by the Los Angeles Archdiocese to portray themselves as benevolent benefactors to Self Help Graphics & Art’s internationally acclaimed Chicano/a art center—the unmasked and crumbling religious foundation appears to no longer have a need for Self Graphics. Without warning, in a clandestine underhanded maneuver, the Archdiocese has sold the Self Help Graphics building to the odious developers who have been circling in on the east side.
Since the closure of Self Help Graphics by the then Board of Directors (June 7, 2005), Self Help Graphics has begun to rise, aided by artists, volunteers, community members and the spirit of founder Sister Karen Boccalero. Maintaining the small integral staff, getting back in the black, restoring the building to a safe functional level, protecting the art collection, reconnecting with artists, continuing the tradition of artistic center with community based cultural celebration, has been the focus of a group of diligent Self Help Graphics volunteers. It has been the visual, performance, written, crafts, culinary and musical artistic communities, as well as individual community supporters that have sustained Self Help Graphics these past years—without public funding, without grants, and without the local politicians’ help.
Over the last few years the Board of Self Help Graphics had met with the Archdiocese, the nuns from Sister Karen’s order and their representatives to strategize on a comfortable plan to transfer ownership of the building to Self Help Graphics, Inc. More like a ping-pong game—with Self Help Graphics as the ball—these entities each claimed to have no power to reach any decision with respect to the building—urging Self Help Graphic reps to ask one of the other entities—but not them. At the same time, they vehemently assured Self Help Graphics that the occupancy of the building would continue as always—there was no need to feel nervous about the relationship, if anything were to change or the building were to be up for sale, Self Help Graphics would be notified first.
Then suddenly last week–(predicted by many disillusioned community members) the call came, “The building has been sold and escrow closed—you have until December 31 to be out.†Shock, injustice, betrayal, wounded, angry and incredulous are not strong enough words to express what one feels, because you wanted to have hope in the process of the spirit, in truth, in common decency, in the respect for Sister Karen’s idealism.
As a volunteer at Self Help Graphics during the Sister Karen years, the Tomas Benitez years and post 6/7/05, I have seen the various seasons of change. Witnessing Sister Karen’s commitment to Self Help Graphics, a dedication with pressures and worries that cut her life short—I find it hard to believe that she did not make any provisions regarding the continuation of Self Help Graphics, after she was gone. Self Help Graphics was her life and her passion. Could she have also entered into a verbal agreement with her not-so Christian family—that also conveniently got forgotten? Half files, incomplete documents, select meeting minutes, empty drawers left by the pre-6/7/05 Board of Directors—also tell a story.
I don’t believe in hell, but I do believe in the dark forces that work feverously to destroy anything good. Those that work to create beauty, goodness and righteousness in the world must work doubly hard to wipe out the injustices that have taken place and at the same time take a step forward into a better humanity.
A public press conference is scheduled to take place at Self Help Graphics & Art on Friday, July 11, 2008 at 10am. Members of the Self Help Graphics Board of Directors will be present to answer questions about the future of our beloved and historical art center.
For those that are not able to attend the press conference, please know that your input and thoughts are direly needed. For updates on upcoming actions, please keep checking on the Self Help Graphics website at www.selfhelpgraphics.com
For the last two weeks I have been in Thailand and although this post is not about Los Angeles it still has the west invasion of the east flavor. Yesterday I was taken to Pattaya, a major beach resort and sex holiday destination for many Europeans and Americans but we were there to have tea with a friend. Our Pattaya colleague suggested we take a quick walk down the street to a gallery.
Walked in and was introduced to a retired British ex-patriot watercolor artist who had been in Thailand for six years and opened a gallery. The last two weeks I have been living in Bang Saen in a faculty condominum at Burapha University so i haven’t had much interaction with westerners and certainly not the stereotypical ex-pat. Whizzed through the gallery and headed outside.
After snapping the above photo I thought it might be a good opportunity to ask the British fellow some questions. Continue reading
Monterey Park‘s attempt to go upscale.
I visited council member Jose Huizars Boyle Heights office to talk about the memorial site and other issues around the neighborhood. Celina Mancia, a field deputy for the council member informed me that the site has been brought to their attention and they are taking the needed steps to clean up the site. She didn’t go into details when I asked her what those steps are. It’s the nature of the beast that they have to go through procedures and steps to make something happen and it’s understandable that the process will take sometime. However, the process can be sped up the more people call in or visit the office to ask about the site and what’s being done about it. If you read the post and want to do something like I do, call the Boyle Heights office or pay them a visit and inquire about the site.
Of course you could go to yet another happy hour (hell it’s going to be vegetarian, vegetarian are good people), another one of “my friend’s†band or even a circle jerk art event. Remember when the art editor of that major paper had a solo show in Chinatown and his paper picked that very horrible show as a pick? Fabulous times. Yeah those are all fabulous times.
But say you went to Catholic school you managed to make it through with no one touching you in a special place. Sister Theresa told you that your life should be one of service, you should be nice to people and the IRA is truly getting a bad rap.
Maybe you’re not Catholic anymore (except during emergencies, you got your Rosary blessed by the pope, I mean they can’t just be beads, it was the pope), maybe you’re not so nice, but that service part was ok and you know, Northern Ireland does belong to Ireland.
Here’s a list of your things to do.
Went to the movies, doesn’t matter where or what I saw. Paid our $16.50, child and I.
Sat down in the dark, didn’t notice who was behind us. Soon we would know. The little voices, chatting. Reading out loud the words of the signs flashing on the screen, maybe to show off that they could read. Got kicked.
My seat was pulled back, kick. I turned to see and there are two in one seat in two different seats, squirming for comfort. 4 kids in two seats. My daughter’s seat was kicked.
I turned backed to see the film. Giggles, little hand brushed my hair, kid walking behind me.
I hear “Tienes que ir al ba~o”? Soon a bunch of little feet, and legs bumping my seat march out the row 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and others were still sitting.
When they came back I looked to see how many all together, 10 kids and one tired looking mother. Aunt? Naw. They were too well behaved, relatively speaking, for her to have been anyone other than mom.
How much did it cost for her to bring all her kids or kids and cousins to the movie this day, any day?
I’ll take the kicks. I hope they remember these days full of familia fun, when they would all go to the movies together and have a good time. No need to remember a grumpy man telling them not to kick to the seat. Well at least not me.
I briefly mentioned my distaste for “Edible Estates” in a previous post and I figured I’d expand a bit on why that “project” annoys me. I don’t dislike the concept, quite the contrary: everyone in this city should stop watering their wasteful lawns and plant some food instead, for the good of the environment and for gustatory pleasures. But the amount of press and coverage for what ultimately amounts to just an activist art project is unmerited, especially when the garden proposal Haeg makes is a reality for many working class families in Los Angeles. Since he was living in Mt. Washington when he did this project he should have been aware of the gardening practices right around NELA, he ought to take a stroll down the hill once in awhile just to see how the flatlanders live. I took the following pics of front yard gardens in Lincoln Heights mostly in one day, just riding around randomly on my bike. They’re everywhere.
The LA Times recently did a story on a place called Skyfarm (in Lincoln Heights no less) about a middle class family building a “country escape” in the urban environment, meaning they grow food and have some chickens. Oh wow, how unique. Here’s what I read as the subtext: when poor people grow food and raise chickens in the city, they’re just poor and desperate, and that lack of intent gets them no carbon credits. When middle class (often white) folks do the same thing, it’s an exploration in sustainable living and a return to homesteading. This should be no surprise to Eastsiders, as we’ve learned how things work when you’re outside of the media loop: your shit don’t matter ’til they say it does.
Though (and because) they may be off the radar of those that dictate the social gaze, I present you with pictures of green living done on the cheap! Lack of theory does not negate the practice! Be an urban pioneer and click ahead for the tour! (Warning: lots of pictures ahead. I highly recommend you read this on company time.)
The north end of Hollenbeck Park became the Boyle Heights Bowl as revelers sat grassy slopes to watch fireworks July 5th. The sounds bounced off the rows of Victorian-era homes, post World War II apartment buildings, and the sound wall next to the freeway ramp–– causing ducks to scatter out of the water into the crowd of people sitting on blankets along the rim of the lake.
Before the fireworks, food booths from local vendors and non-profits made a perimeter around the north lawn, leaving room for those to watch the concerts that scheduled mariachis (Roosevelt High School Mariachi Olympico), funk (Backtraxx), swing (Chico Big Band) and salsa (Angel Lebron y Su Sabor Latino) from 4pm. Around 9pm, CD14’s José Huizar lead a countdown to the fireworks show.
Last year’s inaugural celebration was held at Evergreen Park and outgrew the location in the first year, according to Huizar, whose office organized the event. While this year’s crowd was larger, there was a still a very local feel to the day. “The biggest sponsor was Shakey’s Pizza,†said the councilman, who earlier from the stage told the crowd he remember anticipating fireworks each year while growing up as a child in Boyle Heights, and wanted to bring them back to the neighborhood.
The 17 minute display was solid and will be well documented, as many took out cell phone cameras to document light reflecting off the lake and towering Mexican Fan Palm trees appear out the dark and smoke in silhouette. Still, the taped music the fireworks show was set to was generic. With all the music from, and about, East L.A. and Boyle Heights, using some would have made the finale to the day even more local.
It’s worth a survey to see what six songs could be edited into 20 minutes that would reflect the neighborhood.
I saw this bit of news over at Curbed L.A. and I had to post it here.
It seems that the streets around la Plaza del Mariachi (First & Boyle) have reopened, thereby allowing for greater traffic in the small streets and mariachis to return to a state of quasi-normalcy. In early March, mariachis moved to side streets because of construction at Mariachi Plaza for the Metro Gold Line. The plaza itself itself is still under construction, but at least the streets are open and the mariachis can now be reached more easily. The plaza itself should reopen by November, when the festival in honor of Santa Cecilia, patron saint of musicians, takes place (one or two weekends before Thanksgiving weekend).
In another bit of mariachi news…
Next Friday, July 11th, Mariachi Los Camperos de Nati Cano is holding a free concert with Son de Madera, one of the leading voices of son jarocho (http://www.myspace.com/sondemadera), as part of the Grand Performances series at California Plaza, at the center of Downtown Los Angeles. For more details, click here.
Image of Mariachi Plaza street sign taken from Francisco Cendejas‘ photostream.