Sunday, June 06, 2021

Cicadas

 Life trajectory through cicada timeline:

1987 — As a competitive runner, I was highly annoyed at them. Feeling them hit my face and hearing the crunch on the ground as I ran. 
Happy when they were gone.
2004 — Not much of a competitive runner at this point but still chasing…”I’m forever in pursuit and I don’t even know what I’m chasing.” — Harold Abrahams from Chariots of Fire. 
Didn’t really notice the cicadas. 
2021 — I take walks just to be amongst them. I see them. I hear them. I feel them. There’s something to be said about hearing ones voice after 17 years of slumber. Or even longer.
I hope I’m around for the next version of Brood X. And I’m curious about how I will perceive them. 

Monday, August 31, 2020

Missing Mr. Bones


Sing in Peace Mr. Bones. I miss you so much.

Saturday, July 25, 2020

A Good Cop. And So Much More.

I've struggled to write this blog post. Partially because of my own sense of embarrassment or even shame. And because while it is a story about one good cop -- it's about so much more. Organizing my thoughts and feelings has been challenging.

In such spaces, I rely upon the inspiring wisdom and insights of others. In this case, Bryan Stevenson, as expressed in his commencement speech at Johns Hopkins in 2018. Even if you don't read this blog post, please watch his talk:

I am nowhere near as articulate as Stevenson so I hope don't inadequately describe his four main points:

  • "Get proximate to people who are suffering or excluded."
    • Be close to the people or issues or institutions or spaces you wish to embrace. It's fine to read or think about them but real change needs proximity. My own interpretation is that proximity is the necessary ingredient for empathy. From his talk: "Proximity will empower you."
  • "Change some of the narratives that are out there."
    • Stevenson talks about the politics of fear and anger and racial division and the corresponding societal policies and structures. Stevenson notes that you have a better chance of justice if you're rich and guilty rather than if you're poor and innocent. And how such narratives are infectious to the personal level including my own assumptions and biases. He says: "It's like smog...we breathe it in the air..but we have to change it."
    • I often talk about resetting the default, which has been established by those with power and privilege, both explicit and implicit. As an example, another person with inspiring wisdom and insight, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, recently spoke poignantly and powerfully about changing the default and narrative around mistreatment and abuse of women
  • "Stay hopeful...hopelessness is the enemy of justice."
    • I am often called a cynic -- with good reason. And such cynicism leads me to complain rather than act. But I find great inspiration in Stevenson's casting of hope as "an orientation of the spirit", not an unrealistic optimism but a courageous stance to see injustice and remain vigilant and empowered enough to act.
  • "Be willing to do things that are inconvenient and uncomfortable."
    • Change -- personal or societal -- is never comfortable. I have plenty of experience with such inconvenience and discomfort in my personal journey but I have far less experience in the context of broader change, especially for others. 

So now onto my story...I will note that I did not hear everything clearly and it was dark outside. Nonetheless, I believe this story is a reasonable and true account in an essential sense.

After an especially long day and week of work -- none of which required me to expose myself to health risk or physical labor -- I sat down to watch my latest show on Netflix, an escape that has become even more welcome during the pandemic. Shortly after I started to watch, I heard a man yelling outside my window. His yelling became loud enough that I could not hear my TV.

Irritated, I moved to the window to examine the scene outside my house. There was indeed someone yelling at the top of his lungs. An African American man. With a white policeman standing over him.

For the sake of brevity, I will refer to them as the man and the cop.

My first very thought was that I did not want to be proximate to this scene.

The man kept yelling loudly and repeatedly swore "This is fucked up." Throughout the entire time, the cop simply kept saying: "I understand...I'm trying to help...relax." The cop was standing in the Baltimore heat, dealing with an incredibly angry man, and yet kept his patience. I pondered this as I reflected on my previous irritation, which had now shifted to nervousness and anxiety.

At one point, the man reached into his pockets. It was the first time I heard the cop's voice and stance change: "Don't reach into your pockets."

It must have been only a couple of seconds but it felt like an eternity before the man produced what appeared to some jewelry and money. He said something to the effect of wanting to make sure he kept an eye on it. The cop seemed to relax.

Eventually, other police officers showed up though the cop was the person who kept engaging with the man. As the man's anger subsided, the cop started to ask about hearing the man's side of the story. I couldn't make out all the details but it seemed that there was a group of people who had an altercation with this man.

The cop tried several ways of engaging this man and eventually seemed to gain his trust. The cop joked with the man, referring at one point to his salt and pepper beard. He asked him about any medical conditions. The cop seemed to be asking about possible social services the man might need. Eventually, the man described a scene where three kids attacked him and he fought back in self defense. His initial anger reflected the fact that the police were talking with him and not the three kids.

As the questioning continued, the man settled down and even started to laugh occasionally. I thought to myself that this is deescalation. I imagine that the cop must have assessed the potential threat but decided to adopt a...proximate approach.

Eventually, the cop told that man that they would take him away. I think the man and I assumed it would some type of ambulance.

Instead, another police car showed up.

The man became visibly upset, stood up and started yelling again: "Are you fucking kidding me?...you're going to take me in?" As three other police officers moved in, I thought one of them said: "We might have to cuff him."

While I was devastated by what was happening to this man, I was also selfishly imagining what I would do if this situation become worse. I took out my phone and wondered if I should start recording. Even from the safety of my home, I felt a deep sense of panic -- and admiration for those who have recorded police scenes with considerably greater risk.

I don't want my life to be affected by becoming involved. I kept thinking that selfishly as another man's life was going to be affected in a far, far worse way.

Then another type of outburst changed the scene completely. The man started crying. Sobbing. Uncontrollably. He kept saying that it was fucked up that he was being arrested when the kids were nowhere to be found. He then started talking about his kids. And how he couldn't go back to prison. He pleaded with the cop to listen.

The cop tried to be comforting saying that "I wasn't there..I can't speak for those kids." At one point, he said, "you'll have your day in court." The man, at this point, collapsed onto the ground, said: "You know it's 45 days before that happens..."

The cop simply said: "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

As I stood watching this scene, unsuccessfully fighting back tears, I kept thinking about this man's life was about to change.

You have a better chance of justice if you're rich and guilty than if you're poor and innocent.

However, this cop was going to change the narrative and remain hopeful even if he had to become uncomfortable. After a series of conversations and calls, another police officer showed up. The cop explained to the man that this was an investigating officer. That he should tell him his story. Eventually the man did so -- after much effort from the cop.

The investigating officer walked away from the immediate scene and called someone in authority right near my front door. I heard the entire conversation. The key elements included that the man had a plausible case for being attacked first and defending himself. And that the cop on the scene seems to believe him.

So they decided not to arrest him.

The cop asked the man if he needed a ride, if he needed medical attention and even gave him advice on where to catch the bus.

As the scene dissipated, I ran outside to find the cop. After he was done speaking with other officers, I thanked him profusely. I was so overwhelmed that I forgot to ask for his name, something I regret deeply.

He simply responded: "I'm just doing my job, sir. You have a good night."

Perhaps some might think that all police officers should act this way. Speaking for myself, I have a long way to go from being irritated at the interruption of my Netflix viewing to walking on water. So I'll forgo that type of assertion.

My university issues crime reports. In this case, it would have almost certainly included something to the effect of:

"Affiliates (if they were university students) or non-affiliates (if not) were assaulted by a suspect who was subsequently questioned and arrested by the Baltimore Police."

And I would have believed that narrative. And worried about crime in my neighborhood. And, if I being uncomfortably and brutally honest, I would have wondered if the suspect was an African American man.

Our institutions are being questioned more than ever. Depending on your political or social orientation, your faith in the police or universities might be diminished or even shattered. But institutions are made of up of individuals. In most cases, they are made of individuals who are saints and sinners with the majority of them being in between. Bryan Stevenson does not believe we should be judged by our worst actions. But perhaps we can be praised for our best actions.

I watched an interview on Democracy Now of a former police officer who has started an organization focused on police reform. He stated that if you are in trouble, there is nothing worse than a bad cop...but there's also nothing better than a good cop.

And if you're an incredibly good cop -- a decent, kind, caring human being -- you can indeed be proximate, change the narrative, and remain hopeful even if it means being uncomfortable.

Saturday, August 31, 2019

Mr. Bones

Rest in peace Mr. Bones

You showed me that you weren't really the one who was lost when I found you.

You showed me that when you love someone, sometimes you have to let them go physically, but never let them go emotionally.

I miss you.

Sunday, July 28, 2019

Broken Spirited in Baltimore


About four years ago after the first Freddie Gray trial, I wrote about being brokenhearted in Baltimore. My home since I came here for college except for a two-year stint with the UN in Bangladesh has been in the news multiple times over the last few months.And not in a good way.

The latest swarm of news locust comes in the form of an verbal attack by 45 on Congressman Elijah Cummings who happens to be my representative. I have voted for him several times.

Not surprisingly, the reaction of this latest incident has the deja vu feel of the scene in Dr. Strange with the infinite time loop -- though in our case there's little hope at the moment of resolution -- with "conservatives" cheering and "liberals" protesting. I often wonder if those labels even have meaning anymore.

When I first arrived in Baltimore, I was struck by its residents' earnestness and sincerity. During my first Orioles game, one of the food vendors kept calling me "hon" -- a term of endearment nearly impossible to explain to anyone outside Baltimore. When I asked her why, she simply replied: "I call everyone 'hon'...do you prefer sweetie?" It's an earnestness and sincerity that may have faded over time, reflected in the lost neighborhood ballpark feel of Memorial Stadium as compared to the corporate feel of Camden Yards.

At the time I wrote my previous blog post, I was not aware that what I described as two Baltimores has been characterized and analyzed as the "White L and the Black Butterfly" by Professor Lawrence Brown at Morgan State University.

I think a lot of about earnestness and sincerity when it comes to Baltimore.

I've heard several conversations about whether what happened after the first Freddie Gray related trial were riots or demonstrations or uprisings. I wonder if the people in West and East Baltimore who were most affected really care about what label is used?

While our precious news cycles are being consumed by "debates" about whether this latest attack is racist, I also note the surge of social media traffic, some of which comes from my friends and colleagues.

I feel...anxious about this blog post. Because I worry those friends and colleagues will be offended. Yet I'm encouraged by two recent conversations, one with my longtime friend since being roommates at Hopkins and another more recent friend who also went to Hopkins. Both of them said that if we want change, we have to agitate people.

So I hope that my words do indeed agitate, in the sense of moving people into action. I am trying to generate light, not heat, with this simple message: Your social media outrage or commentary is not enough.
In my previous post about being brokenhearted in Baltimore, I mentioned Ursula K. Leguin's "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas" as a haunting, revealing story about inaction. If you want a more recent narrative, consider reading the "The 9.9 Percent is the New American Aristocracy" which ends with the following paragraph: "It's going to take something from each of us, too, and perhaps especially from those who happen to be momentary winners of this cycle in the game. We need to peel our eyes away from the mirror of our own success and think about what we can do in our everyday lives for the people who aren't our neighbors. We should be fighting for opportunities for other people's children as if the future of our own children depended on it. It probably does."At the risk of adding more to the academic debate about how to label the post-Freddie Gray actions, I will add another label: a warning. I distinctly remember that evening when I left a work event downtown and raced back to Charles Village, driving at 50mph most of the way and running every red light. I saw several police cars that were driving much, much faster. I can still hear the anxiety in my girlfriend's voice (who was away from home) as I told her that I will make sure the people, dogs, cats, and homes we care about would remain safe. When she said: "But I want you to be safe too..." all I could muster in response was: "I will be ok." But I kept wondering if I would be ok. I haven't felt that anxious since I worked for the UN in Bangladesh when the government was overthrown.

I thought I saw fires at several times with a sense of disbelief, only to realize later that multiple businesses that I had visited were indeed set ablaze or destroyed. The next morning, I could see smoke rising from various points throughout the city.

The ashes from those fires have not yet been cleared away and the embers are still smoldering.

We can debate which politician is a paragon or a pariah, realizing that most are somewhere in between. Perhaps what we can agree with is almost every politician at the local, state, and federal level has failed Baltimore in some way or another. Of course we should expect more of our politicians, even the ones we admire and defend against such attacks. And it is actually a reasonable question to ask why they have not done more for Baltimore.

But an even more reasonable question to ask: What are we doing for Baltimore. What am I doing for Baltimore?

Many of the social media posts come from residents of Baltimore. Choosing to live in the city, paying city taxes and sales taxes, supporting local businesses and other financial expenditures are important actions.

But if you are moved by the suffering in Baltimore, then please move into action in other ways too.

On the financial front, consider taking loans from local banks for your homes and cars. 
Please consider making donations to local organizations and charities. Some of my favorite choices include the Maryland Food Bank, Manna House, House of Ruth Maryland, Baltimore Child Abuse Center, Great Kids Farm, Health Care for the HomelessMeals on Wheels, Village Learning Place, and the Charles Village Civic Association. If you donate furniture to Habitat for Humanity, consider driving through Sandtown to deliver it. It will give you some perspective.There are many other worthy causes and organizations. Investigating them is a useful task unto itself. Charity Navigator is a helpful resource.

If you use Amazon, start by using the smile.amazon.com site and choose a charity. Every purchase will generate donations for your chosen charity. I chose Manna House.

Volunteer.

Time is more than just money. It's an affirmation that you believe in a cause or mission or service. Some of the most meaningful experiences of my life came from volunteering for the People's Homesteading Group, Meals on Wheels, Manna House or during days of service. When I was an undergraduate student, after a group of us finished working on a house through the People's Homesteading Group, the owner of the house ran out to give us cookies. He said his wife baked them for us. He then added: "We never knew there were good kids at John Hopkins."

That statement -- that connection -- is simultaneously sobering and inspiring.

If you are involved in libraries or information technology or city government, please consider attending or presenting at the Baltimore Washington Open Source. The InnerSource Commons Event portion of this meeting is of particular relevance. Led by another alumnus from Johns Hopkins, this event represent a concerted movement to introduce open-source software and organizations to Baltimore. The Innersource Commons has already agreed to base its headquarters in Baltimore. There are discussions to use an open-source municipal platform developed in Paris for the city of Baltimore. I'm also working on a proposal to bring another information technology related conference to Baltimore in 2021.
There are no doubt other ways to move into action. Do something. Anything. Don't just talk about it. One of my favorite quotes about moving into action comes from a Hopi Elder who said the following at 1999 summer solstice event: "There is a river flowing now, very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are being torn apart and suffer greatly. Know that the river has its destination. The elders say we must push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open and our heads above the water. See who is there with you and celebrate. At this time in history, we take nothing personally, least of ourselves, for the moment we do that, our spiritual growth comes to a halt. The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves; banish the word 'struggle' from your attitude and vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred way and in celebration. We are the ones we've been waiting for. Now, go to your mat and push off from the shore."We are the ones we've been waiting for. We need to move into action. Now.





Sunday, March 24, 2019

If Cats Disappeared From The World

If Cats Disappeared From The World is a wonderful book by Genki Kawamura. I need to explore further Japanese culture's fascination with cats. For now, I'll share the following insightful observations from this book:

"We may think we own cats but that's not the way it is. They simply allow us the pleasure of their company."

"In order to gain something you have to lose something."

Sunday, December 23, 2018

Missing Zadie

Play in peace Zadie. I miss you so much.

 
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.