Herban Sprawl

30 April 2008

I may live to regret this, but in spite of the newspaper’s endorsements for business as usual in City Hall, I am going to stand by my support for David Bowers. I still disapprove of him throwing in with Brian Wishneff, who I see as an opportunist and obstructionist, not to mention a hollow grandstander. But the way I see it, the current mayor has not learned to pay attention to city opinion in terms of common sense.
As to the council candidates the paper endorsed, well, again, I don’t see that their choices will be any better than the rest of the field. It was almost as though they liked one person and were holding their noses for the other two. Again, I’m going to go my own way. If for no other reason than to keep it interesting.

The Star City deserves better than it’s going to get with any of them.

29 April 2008

It’s been in the news that the Star City’s schools are going to try some creative approaches to dealing with their drop out issues, as well as streamlining some finances. I’ve been reading the plans with a great deal of interest, and approval. I cannot say how different it is to actually approve of what’s going on with the schools!

The Superintendent has decided to cut her losses on one of the elementary schools that cannot seem to get its scores up out of the gutter. That poor school has suffered from an abysmal lack of leadership ever since I have lived here. It’s had a series of inept principals, and the first one that I remember was one of the worst. She also rose in the ranks of school administration, where she snarled and intimidated and threatened. Leadership? I think not. The next one followed in her footsteps, and the last one was just inept. (She was an awfully lazy vice president of the education association, so I can’t imagine she did any better with that school.)

So, Her Eminence is going to scatter the kids from that school to a number of other elementary schools and use the building to house her overage students’ program. It’s a great idea. I’d hate to see that building used for anything except a school, or maybe a library. It’s a beauty.

The neighborhood is upset because most of the kids who attend can walk to school.

Ah. Now there is a concept. But, ours is a very segregated city, in terms of neighborhoods. If we were to return to the days of walking to school, we’d have segregation all over again, and the feds would be in here faster than you can add fries to your burger order. It’s a shame, but we have to deal with reality. If we want kids to learn to get along with each other, no matter the color, nation of origin or religion, we have to stack the cards to make it happen.

So, they will lose their walking distance school, but in the long run, what the Superintendent is offering those mothers is a chance for their children to succeed in school, graduate and be able to get decent jobs. If those mothers could think in terms of the long-term benefits of a high school diploma, then maybe we wouldn’t need that kind of school, but we had a breakdown and instead of whining about it, Her Eminence is doing something about it.

The other thing she is doing is moving the troubled teen school to another elementary building. It’s one with which I am very familiar, having taught there for six years. Again, this is a good idea. It will save the school division a lot of money on rent and it will give the kids a campus, so to speak. The scale of that building was always too tall for little kids anyway. It was renovated like an office building, rather than a school. I hope she’ll have it rewired, though. There were never enough outlets.

The children from that school will get mixed into their old primary school. Not a bad idea when you consider the SOL scores for those two schools were combined anyway. I’d like to see her do the same for the other split school on that end of town. The so-called Montessori program hasn’t really worked, and the magnet concept is basically dead and buried anyway. Simplify.

So, her first school year is drawing to a close and Her Eminence has done well in terms of ideas. As long as she makes the effort to bring the teachers on board, helps them see the benefits to their ability to teach, and doesn’t force things down their throats, all will be well.

Her predecessor lengthened the school day without adding the corresponding percentage of salary to compensate the teachers. He demolished her carefully constructed reading initiative. He took what was left of teacher morale and swept the crumbs out the door. Coincidentally enough, the teachers who had been in the countdown to retirement under the previous administration, heard the bell ring during his administration and left the schoolhouses en masse.

And, as ever, the surrounding areas snapped up the younger ones whose tolerance for job dissatisfaction is about as large as their cellphones.  They’re glad to get teachers who’ve had the Star City experience because they know those people can really teach. They teach rings around everyone else, actually. I think Her Eminence knows this, too. She is nobody’s fool. She’s had to start from scratch, she’s lost some veterans she really needed, and she’s still putting in 70 hours weeks trying to right the ship.

The community needs to get behind these latest initiatives and cut her some slack. It’s not easy being Queen.

27 April 2008
The Big Kitty underwent what can only be described as a religious conversion. Today, the day after his birthday, when he was pooped to the bone because he’s on call and had to go out at two in the morning, and then again around ten, I gave him a great lunch treat. I made him Chicago dogs with his Christmas hot dog set.

Here in the Star City, people wax brilliantly about the Wiener Stand. When I first moved here, that’s all I heard about so one Saturday I wandered in and had a hot dog. It was the worst hot dog I had ever eaten in my life! It had this greasy stuff that they called chili on it and, well, ick. So that’s the kind of dog my most beloved grew up eating.

My own religious conversion to the Chicago Dog came when I moved to Chicago back in the seventies. The roach coaches that parked near the Regenstein Library on the University of Chicago campus and Maurie’s on 55^th Street were my dog joints. To be sure, Lil Linda always favored the David Bergs over the Vienna Red Hots, but I didn’t care. The treatment was the same.

So the first time Big Kitty was in the Windy City, I hauled him into a dog joint and that’s all she wrote. It is now his dog of choice. To be sure, he will eat those obnoxious things served up locally, especially when the supply houses offer free lunch, but if you gave him a choice, he’d worship at the shrine of the Chicago Dog.

I had tried, in vain, to buy the green relish and sport peppers at the grocery store in Chicago. I guess there is no need since Chicagoans have hot dog stands all over the place. But the good people at Vienna will take care of you, my friend. You can go online and order everything from your Vienna wardrobe to posters, hot dogs to condiments. It’s great! In fact, condiments were all I had planned to order when I saw the complete kit – including the Plochman’s yellow mustard and a little thing of celery salt. (Personally, I skip the celery salt.)

Last week I was thrilled to discover that The Fresh Market had Vienna all-beef products in the case. This is good because now all I need to order is the emerald green relish and sport peppers from those good people at Vienna. Big Kitty’s hot dog kit included a lotta dogs, and two big packages of Carl Rosen buns. Now the buns are integral, but for a guy who might need to take a random drug test, they can be passed on as they are sprinkled with poppy seeds. Three dogs and three buns could create a little reading. So, when we use up the Rosens, we’ll switch to Pepperidge Farm, just to be on the safe side.

What a nice thing for Sunday – a deviled egg, Chicago Dog, and thou!

25 April 2008
I understand my piece on the non-profit boards caused a little rumble in the non-profit underground – my fond name for the people who dedicate their lives to working for these entities at substandard wages. I’m sure that sooner or later it will come back to bite me, but for now that is not important.

I have a story to tell of a person I admire a great deal. He lives in Botetourt County, and he is as poor as they come. Because of a number of disabilities, he subsists on the dole, supplementing that with collecting and selling junk and doing odd jobs. He hikes everywhere, including hiking into town to go see his doctors and pick up his medications. He is a great photographer and I have, on my desk, a couple of pictures that he took, framed and gave to me when I worked at Opera Roanoke. He loves opera and never misses a production unless he is sick.

The generosity of this man surpasses anything I have ever experienced. Every now and then we would get a check along with a letter written on school paper and in his unique dialect. The check was seldom more than $20 at a time. We would carefully and lovingly pass the note to each other, and whoever was responsible for acknowledgments at any given time dutifully wrote him a heartfelt thank you. When Steven White came on board as the General and Artistic Director, he soon learned of this man’s devotion to the organization. He was given a drawing made just for him, and his lovely wife, and their new home. It wasn’t great – okay, it was downright kid-like, but you could feel the love and energy he’d put into it. Only a cad would not appreciate the gesture. Steven has his moments, but he is not a cad.

Eventually, the staff was just down to Steven and me. The reasons are complicated, but it was only me, answering the phones and selling the tickets and sending acknowledgments, etc. etc. etc. One day I was compiling the donor list for the program and when the computer’s development program calculated the gifts, I was astounded to find our faithful friend in the $250 range.

He’d sold a lot of junk and done a lot of odd jobs for those $10, $15 and $20 checks he’d sent.

Now, those who were wondering why I got on my high horse about the “big donors,” I want you to stop and think about the lesson this man has to teach us. It’s easy for someone with a good-sized income to write checks to non-profits. We’re exceedingly grateful they do. But it’s what some of them do afterward that annoys the devil out of me.

When one guy can sacrifice $20 in order to contribute to his favorite arts organization, it says a lot about him. When another one writes a check for $10,000 but demands that the organization fire an employee in a willful “I am rich, kiss my ring” moment, then that says a lot about him/her, too. Or maybe that “big donor” has just changed his/her ideas about how some insignificant thing is to be done – for the third time in the space of a week. Or some nut case runs off an employee the organization just spent thousands of dollars to recruit.

No matter what kind of foolishness s/he perpetrates, s/he needs to understand something. With money comes the responsibility to give back. It wouldn’t hurt if a modicum of humility accompanied those checks. It wouldn’t hurt if s/he would allow the underpaid souls who keep the non-profits alive and running on fumes to do their jobs without making things more difficult.

It wouldn’t hurt if the Beamer was left in the garage and s/he tried hiking to the opera with Sam.

24 April 2008
There are friends for whom one will unquestioningly go to the mat. And the terms of such an unconditional arrangement also mean that one is also allowed to bring them to task when they deserve it. A friend forgot that yesterday was Administrative Professionals’ Day. He forgot to A) take her to lunch, or B) send her flowers, or C) leave her a little gift bag with a gift card for a massage, pedicure, you name it. Her method of bringing this to his attention was great and I have to hand it to her (I was there, you see-), her timing was excellent. His intern and I jumped on him with claws out! If he doesn’t do something for her today, I think I might have to go back out there and hurt him.

I might excuse him given the extenuating circumstances, but he’s a big boy and he oughta keep track of that kind of stuff. And now about those extenuating circumstances…

We went to school yesterday to get a new educational plan in place for his disabled daughter. The administrator in charge of the meeting was not the kind of person I’d invite out for a cup of coffee. I’ve participated in my share of these meetings, so I know the drill. But, as my own professional judgment was denigrated and I was insulted by the man, I did what I can do in those meetings – I bit my tongue. (Most of my friends still don’t believe I could sit through a faculty meeting without saying a word, but as goddess is my witness, it’s the only way to get a meeting over with!) In this case, the man was offering up ideas that had already seen better days and hadn’t worked before.

I observed the teachers and I could well imagine what they were thinking. I knew we were on the same page, but this guy wasn’t even in the same book.

I watched my dear friend lose it as he described what would happen if his child did not have the skills necessary to allow her to be independent.  I watched his child lose it when the reality of her situation sank in. It broke my heart. When he seemed to capitulate, I got nervous. But, as I later reflected, this is someone who avoids confrontation. (His daddy and I discussed this one summer afternoon many years ago -) He needed me to be the backbone for all three of us, but I was in a tenuous position. I wanted what I wanted, but to say what I was thinking might have lost not just the battle, but the whole war. Sometimes you have to pick your battles –

To be sure, I was vocal about the need for a reading specialist, but the part I really, really wanted to say was this, dear readers –

Listen up, you little worm! You have had this child in your system for thirteen years and you couldn’t manage to teach her to read. The idea of recycling an old special ed reading program that is designed for elementary kids is ludicrous, but since you don’t employ reading specialists in this division, then I can kind of forgive your blatant ignorance of the value of a reading professional with the kind of network I bring to this situation.

The fact is, fella, you have no idea what magic someone with my qualifications can make with a child who has never known success with reading. That I have done this for over 22 years, and with a success rate you could only hope for, is reason enough to listen to me. You think that by sending her back to the high school to go over the same old tired stuff that she’s going to make progress. The truth is she’ll just be spinning her wheels, all over again. Whereas, I, or one of my ilk, will not only have her leaving rubber on the pavement, but popping wheelies in the process.

You wanna compare my excellent and painstaking analysis of her reading skills and knowledge of words to the Woodcock Johnson or any other “thumbnail” achievement test? Go ahead.

But realize you’ve thrown down the gauntlet and I now challenge you to take my work to my hardest critic, my mentor. Let him review what I’ve done. He, too, has his degree in school psychology and he knows, probably better than you, what the score is – no pun intended. If I have muffed up, or used an inferior assessment instrument, he’ll be the first to say so. But I am so confident of my work that I can willingly invite you to participate in this little experiment.

And afterward, when the man tells you letting me work with her is not only more cost-effective for your school system, but that her achievement will be tended to by someone who cares deeply about this young woman and who will not let her down, you get to kiss my ring.

Her teachers have taken her as far as they are capable of taking her. They are good teachers and they are conscientious educators. They don’t like your ideas, either. But, bless their hearts, they need that paycheck, so they aren’t going to buck the system.

The bottom line is this: you can dream up all sorts of excuses, but you cannot take away my experience and my skills. You cannot say to this young woman, “Darlin’, don’t fret. Together we will make this happen. Trust me. I will not let you fall into the abyss of abject ignorance.” You cannot because you’ve already failed her and my assessment was the black and white proof. Luckily, my man, you are only the acting administrator. Let us hope your superior can exercise better judgment and teach you a thing or two about how not to conduct a meeting with a parent, student and consulting professional.

Ranting aside, it’s a sad day when the regulations that were designed to protect the children are used against them, and for a school division’s bottom line. In this instance we see a very bad case of penny-wise, pound-foolishness. I swear to goddess. In all my years in the Star City’s school division, I never saw this kind of thing. I just wish the real estate agents who push certain parts of the valley for the “excellent” schools could catch on to this.

22 April 2008

Here in the Star City of the South, we are celebrating Earth Day with rain. Given the drought, this is indeed a gift from the heavens. About twelve or thirteen years ago, I planted a climbing hydrangea in the corner, next to the gas meter. It was supposed to bloom and be a really neat climbing plant. It took it in the neighborhood of about ten years to finally produce some pretty unremarkable blooms that were hidden by an overgrown pieris japonica. This year, however, it is lush with buds and with any luck, our 50ish nights will continue so it can do its thing in the next day or so.

The thing about gardens is that you dig a hole, stick a plant in it, tend it (in my lazy case, nominally) and with any luck, the thing takes off. Gardening involves patience and the ability to ignore bad behavior by some plants as they go through their awkward stage. And then comes the part about having to get brave and take the clippers to them when they get out of line.

It’s a lot like being a parent or a teacher. Raising kids is the same deal.

It’s also a lot like keeping a watchful eye on City Council.

When they break bad, you have to get out the clippers and remove the bad stuff. And you also have to keep an eye on who they run with. Doggone if that crape myrtle didn’t take up with that grapevine, and that honeysuckle from next door just sneaked in and wreaked havoc on my vinca minor. It’s going to take some severe discipline, but if you give them an inch, they take a mile. Let them give you wishy-washy half-truths for answers, and the little devils will cost you in the end, whether it’s the necessity of using Round-Up, or paying lawyer fees or higher taxes.

What Shanna Flowers neglected to mention in her wonderful piece this morning about the restaurant at the top of Mount Washington in Pittsburgh is that it is in the midst of an urban neighborhood, not a public park and woodland. Yes, the view is important, but cutting down trees to create it is like planting annuals as opposed to perennials, or spending $500 on a prom dress.  It’s nice in the short term, but the excitement doesn’t last. And don’t go talking about cutting down trees for a questionable piece of development on Earth Day, of all things!

You want to eat in a restaurant with a view from up high? Go somewhere besides the beach for your vacation. Try cocktails on the 95^th floor of the John Hancock in Chicago. Look to the north and you will see beautiful Lincoln Park, stretched out along the lakefront, complete with zoo and butterfly house. Look to the south and see fabulous Grant Park, also along the lakefront with views of the harbor, and Navy Pier to the southeast.

How about a fabulous restaurant on the top of the Tower of Power, overlooking the new art museum, with a view of Mill Mountain and the rest of the Star City?

Seems to me we’re just looking in the wrong direction when it comes to views. And the current City Council seems to be particularly shortsighted. Like teenagers. They need pruning to perform better – like crape myrtles and climbing hydrangeas.

21 April 2008

Yesterday the Cubs moved ahead of the miserable Cardinals in the National League Central. For most fans, this is great news. I know my nephew Matt is probably tickled. But I’ve been a fan for so long that when this kind of thing happens, I just get nervous.

As Lil Linda would say, we’ve been let down before. But, as she also said, this is our 100^th Anniversary. It’s time. Lil Linda ought to know. She and her dad, the late great Seymour (Sy) were bleacher bums during the debacle with the Mets, when the New Yorkers got religion.

I remember when the late cartoonist Jeff MacNelly moved to the Tribune and the Perfesser and Skyler became Cub philosophers. He captured the essence of us so perfectly that we felt validated. Even Southsider fiction character V.I. Warshawski is a Cub fan with the same attitude as the rest of us. We are quite the tribe – I never met a stranger at Wrigley. We’re always hopeful, but we are anxiously so. We’re like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football.

On a more positive note, another triumph took place yesterday here in the Star City. Opera Roanoke’s Maestro Steven White brought about a concert version of Beethoven’s Fidelio that was superb. There were some grumblings in the audience that they had expected a fully staged opera and were disappointed it was a concert. The issue is the cost. Opera is expensive and contributions haven’t kept up with their overhead. Want a fully staged opera? Ante up and he will happily do it.

This morning’s paper noted the contributions that the non-profits make to our valley, and it’s time for me to get on my soapbox.

For too long, area residents have left support of the non-profits in the hands of a group of people who need the tax write-offs. This is not to diminish their financial support, but rather to point out that whenever giving is left to only those who will routinely write checks, then the pool of contributors becomes rather inbred and incestuous.

People, the non-profits are grateful for whatever you give, and they never, ever look down their noses at contributions of less than $25. They are going to send you a lovely thank you that you save for tax purposes and you will have the satisfaction of knowing they know you care about their continued existence.

Many people will contribute to the programs that help the needy, but they often overlook how badly the arts need support and how much the arts contribute to the overall health and well-being of the community.

Case in point is Opera Roanoke. A few years ago, Maestro White instituted a program of free tickets for students. Called Sempre Libera, always free, it enabled students to call up and reserve a seat. (Sempre libera was one of the songs from La traviata and that was the first opera for the free seats.) Area high school music teachers had been bringing groups for a long time, but now they only needed to cover the cost of the bus. This is a huge thing, but area residents are probably ignorant of it.

If people want a first place city, then they have to pony up. And they’d be wise to start watering down that murky pool of “big donors.” The big donors get put on the non-profit boards and to be honest, they aren’t necessarily the best stewards of these entities. Some are especially hard working and helpful to the non-profit staffs. Others are the opposite extreme, micro-managing and harassing staffers. The only way to create a balance is for you, the everyday citizens, to chip in and share the burden. Volunteer your time, send small checks, and become season subscribers. Talk up the great performances you’ve enjoyed to everyone and invite your friends.

I’m already trying to get Uncle Doc organized to fly down for the November 2^nd Handel and Mahler program – his favorite, Elizabeth Futral (our very own local diva!), will be singing. And I bet I can get him to part with a big check, too.  He saw her as Violetta at the Lyric Opera in Chicago and fell in love. We are so lucky to have Steven and Elizabeth, but if we don’t show our appreciation by financially supporting their art, then they will have to go elsewhere. That would be a sad, sad day. Every bit as sad as the Cubs losing yet another World Series.

19 April 2008

Yesterday we attended the service for The House Goddess’s mother. Sister Bernice was much beloved in her community. The small church in Bedford County was packed to overflowing, and the fans were duly passed out with the kindness and consideration you only see in such a loving group.

Unlike white memorial services, this one was designed to praise the Lord and give the deceased her just due as a good woman who served Jesus and her community with the generosity of one who was right with the Lord. They didn’t preach about sin and the importance of being saved. They instead preached of the glory that would be theirs if they did like Sister Bernice. They knew in their hearts she was in a better place and they sang the praises with heartfelt gusto.

This was my first experience in an African American Baptist church, and I must say, my eyes were opened to the beauty that comes from freedom of expression and passionate preaching. My own belief system doesn’t include the presence of a divine trinity, but that doesn’t mean I cannot appreciate and respect it. That people felt so deeply, that some were led off in hysterical grief, made my own somber grieving for our dear one pale by comparison.  When our dear one was moved by music that was intended to uplift the mourners and to celebrate her mother, she was attended to with her loving son, and a group of ladies who surrounded her with the fans. I watched her feel her despair and I reflected on the deaths of my parents. To be sure, her mother is the same age as my own sister and my two beloved bubbas. I would be a mess if something happened to them at this young age. I wasn’t when my parents passed on.

One was suffering the late stages of breast cancer and the other was just worn out from old age. In both cases, their deaths were their release from pain, misery and fatigue. That Sister Bernice had expressed to her daughter that she was just tired and wanted to “go home,” made sense when HG told me about it. When I realized how young she was, I became confused. Granted, Mom was only 55, but cancer is rough.

Once again, health care for the elderly, long term maintenance for diseases such as diabetes, and nursing care for the infirm came to my consciousness. We have a long way to go. In the meantime, I need to tend to my friend and loved one.

But I am going to have to chide her for introducing us as people she worked for. No indeedy. She is a businesswoman and we are her clients. When is she going to accept her due? Bless her heart!

18 April 2008

Last night was the McGlothlin Award event at Radford U. Our Stephanie didn’t win the big one, but a check for $1000 is nothing to sneeze at, either.

They opted to announce the winners by showing a video of their classes, and interviews with students. As the cameras panned the classroom of the secondary winner, there were no minority faces to be seen. Both winners had been finalists previously and the judges made sure to encourage our girl to reapply in 2010.

Along with us in the van were three girls Stephanie has been mentoring. One will be off to high school in the fall, and after a visit to this campus, she decided that college might be cool. The other two were also checking it out and you could see the wheels turning. Stephanie is likely going to be hauling them around to area colleges to make sure they get a chance to see what’s out there. Also, a Radford professor has invited them to come spend some time in her class so they can see what it’s like. What a great opportunity!

Kids from the Star City often don’t come from situations where an education is valued. For these girls, there is a better appreciation for the economic advantages that higher education will bring them. But it’s been brought to their attention by one very determined teacher who saw the diamond in the rough.

The sister of one girl came to the door, carrying a baby. She understands that the presence of a baby in her sister’s life has severely cut off some opportunities. The mother of one of the girls was one of my students. She got pregnant, which was too bad. She was very smart. But, so is her daughter and she is determined to give her daughter the best she can. The third girl is just amazing in terms of her positive attitude and the excitement from watching some AKA sorority sisters performing a skit in front of the library. She is setting her sights.

There were tears when “Mom” didn’t win, but Mom and Auntie are pros at the teachable moment - You can lose with grace, you can pick yourself up and try again, and you move on. You don’t pick a fight with the winner; you congratulate the winner with warmth and graciousness. I felt like an Olympic skating coach!
Now these girls need some encouragement from the Big Guns - A message from the Superintendent complimenting them on their ladylike behavior at this event, and encouraging them to dream their dreams would be a lovely surprise. After all, a girl who can’t wait to wear her nametag to school tomorrow is already starting to think ahead.

We older women need to be there to keep them thinking this way.  What good is getting to be an elder stateswoman if you can’t keep the flame burning?

Addendum to 16 April 2008

Okay, Mr. Bowers. Are you a believer, yet? Are you listening to your constituents, yet? We told you this would happen…
Now Council Member Wishneff is accusing city officials of deliberately setting out to sabotage his campaign by means of the timing their announcement of the amphitheater deal. His vitriol has extended to screaming for the city manager’s head on a platter.

Why should this be of concern to David Bowers? Well, for one thing, you can’t go and fire someone over a perceived insult. It’s the same reason why dueling was outlawed, and it’s clear that Wishneff wouldn’t know what to do with a flintlock dueling pistol anyway. And, for another thing, while Darlene Burcham is being disingenuous when she says she does not involve herself in the city’s elections, you can’t call for her head over that because you could never prove it. No city employee will speak up and we all know why. These are uncertain times - they need their jobs.

So what’s a former mayor who wants to be mayor again to do? For starters, he needs to distance himself from Brian Wishneff. If he wants the voters to believe he’s grown up and matured, he needs to project the image of a guy who can work with the team. He needs to pull out all the stops on his powers of persuasiveness. This is not something Brian Wishneff can do because he’s a loose cannon. He storms out of meetings, thinking that will cause the public to think he’s acting in their best interests, when in reality, it’s in his (or his clients’) own best interests.
The other thing David Bowers needs to do is to be able to count to four. It takes four votes to pass anything on Council, and he won’t have the magic number when Wishneff loses, which he most certainly will. That screaming act of his won’t fly with sedate Roanokers. They don’t like displays of bad temper.

The third thing he needs to do is focus less on how to spend money and more on how to build bridges that will benefit the city. A regional approach to public transportation, a common sense approach to cleaning up blighted neighborhoods that won’t bankrupt less affluent homeowners, support for the school superintendent’s initiatives to staunch the drop-out rate, and an aggressive attitude for economic development.

Common sense for the benefit of the good people of Roanoke. That gets votes, David.