Earth Day Highlight: Architectural Salvage Warehouse of Detroit

I mentioned a while back that Labra Design+Build and I took a field trip to find a radiator. What I didn't sufficiently emphasize is the awesome work the place we visited does!

Architectural Salvage Warehouse is a non-profit that saves pieces, large and small, of buildings that will be demolished, so that instead of being land-filled they can be re-purposed. Did you know that a huge amount of landfill use is from construction, not household waste? Have you considered that new construction also typically requires the mining and processing of a lot of resources? So efficiently and safely salvaging what we can out of properties before they are demolished is an important part of saving the planet.

Not only does Architectural Salvage Warehouse protect the environment by allowing construction companies and individual consumers to re-use items, the money from their purchase helps to finance training in salvage techniques for youth and adults looking to get specialized training in construction and recycling. This technical training is a needed boost for the building trades and an example of on-the-job training that's very needed to help students avoid crushing student debt! 

As if that isn't sufficient, the prices at Architectural Salvage Warehouse are significantly lower than buying new, which helps families stay on budget. We were able to find a radiator for our boiler system that was a fraction of the cost of a new one, or even a used one elsewhere. We also found a pocket door in great condition. While you may not always be able to find what you need, I recommend starting here first and then moving to other salvage options, and then finally end at a typical hardware store if necessary.

Another Earth Day consideration: If you're considering whether to build or buy a home, seriously think about whether you could buy a previously occupied home and renovate it instead of buying a new house. You don't have to go to the lengths that we have on #fixerupperdetroit ! There are many great homes that are move-in ready that could reduce landfill waste, blight, and consumption of new materials. If you decide that a new construction is the right choice for your family, you can still purchase salvaged materials to cut back on consumption and waste.

Reflections on Life in Southgate, Now that it's Almost Done

Back in 2011 or so, when we found out that Rebecca would be doing her third year of medical school at Henry Ford Wyandotte, we looked for apartments in Southgate. I didn't know much about Downriver communities. I can't say that I held them in particularly high esteem. We picked an apartment in Southgate but ended up finding a flat in Wyandotte that was cheaper.

The flat itself was terrible. Unsafe, not up to code, and horribly inefficient, but it was cheap and only about ten walkable blocks from lovely downtown Wyandotte. We fell in love with Nanna's Kitchen, visited the Wyandotte art fair without buying anything, and sometimes walked to the Methodist church for services.

When we left Wyandotte for Meridian Township, I thought our tenure as "River Rats" (a term used to refer to people who live Downriver from Detroit - used, at least by some, affectionately) was permanently over. We expected to stay in the Lansing area, where I would do my Ph.D. and Rebecca would get a residency.

Women plan. God laughs.

Our next move was to Royal Oak, and we thought we'd move from there to the Detroit house. The mold infestation left us scrambling to find an apartment with a six month lease, and we ended up finding one in Southgate, near the one we had picked a few years before.

The apartment here is okay. Carpet is less than ideal with two cats, and I miss having an outdoor space, but six months isn't so long. The commute to my Oakland county students is longer, and it ended up farther from the Detroit house than would be easiest, but it's temporary.

If I'm being honest, the worst part of our apartment building is the smell. The mail room, hallways, and laundry room are a mix of so many personal and/or foul odors, and then covered with an awful air freshener. Our apartment usually is okay, but both of us sometimes gag in the hallways.

In other words, my unhappiness here is more a reflection on our apartment building than on Southgate itself.

And here is what I remind myself:

1. This is temporary. We're moving out soon.

2. This is what we needed to do to get away from the mold infestation that made us really sick.

3. I am not too good for the things I need to do.

We needed to live in Southgate for a while to avoid anaphylaxis from the mold and still be able to afford our house. We needed to live in this giant complex that smells weird. We needed lower rent.

I see my students sometimes decide that they are too good for community college, even if it is their only option to continue their education. I see other people decide that they're too good for certain jobs, or parts of their job, even if they really need the work. And it's helped me realize that if there is something that I need to do to achieve an end goal, I'm not too good to do it (assuming that it is ethical, of course).

In twelve days, we'll be moved into #fixerupperdetroit, ready or not (let me assure you: not). I'm sure there will be new things that I'll do that I'd prefer not to. But the alternatives to struggle are boredom, stagnation, or death.

Confessions: Clothing I Wish I Never Had to Buy Again

Apparently I'm not a typical girly-girl. Who knew?

In spite of non-stereotypical behaviors such as (gasp!) wearing skirts and having long hair, I don't really enjoy shopping for most clothing items. I know this is a first world problem, as I am at a point in my life in which I can afford these items if I truly need. Here is a list of items I especially hate shopping for:

1. Slacks

Maybe because I grew up in pants that never seemed quite long enough, or because it's easy to fall prey to muffin top, or because the pockets are never big enough, or washing instructions are a pain, or the line between too loose and too tight is razor-thin. I'm fortunate that my employer doesn't often require business casual dress. I think I own one pair of slacks right now. I tried to buy more, almost had a meltdown, and gave up. I suppose someday I will have to try again, unless I make it a life goal never to work for an employer that requires business casual clothing.

2. Bras

Especially when it's chilly out, spending much time scantily clad isn't a fun proposal. Add the sticker shock, strangers measuring me, and the knowledge that in a few months, this article of clothing will probably attempt to stab me in the heart, and well, I put off bra shopping as long as possible. I've tried ordering online with little success - which I guess makes sense given how specifically they must fit - so I periodically trudge to the store. I suppose I could be a rebel and stop wearing this somewhat pointless undergarment, but I'm really not there yet.

3. Coats

This is mostly because I really love the coats I already have and want them to last forever. But coats are such a commitment. If properly cared for, a good coat can last for years, and I have a general policy of keeping things until they wear out. Therefore, I typically look for something I don't expect to go out of style. Add to that a penchant for buying coats that aren't black, and well, it's a bit of a challenge.

4. Socks

I would spend the year barefoot if I didn't live in Michigan. When I do wear socks, I have specific length and fabric requirements if I don't want to be tugging at them or despising my clammy, chilly feet. For some reason, bamboo socks have mostly not been in stock, and manufacturers seem to believe that I want socks that come to my knees or sit below my ankles. Sad panda.

5. Boots

Much like coats, I feel obligated to choose boots that will span multiple seasons. I also need soft-soled boots for proctoring (my students expect me to be a ninja), find the price of a good pair overwhelming, and need something I can wear for long periods without experiencing leg fatigue. Most women's boots aren't designed to meet all of those needs and still look chic.



Yes, these are first world problems, and I feel very fortunate that I can afford these items when necessary. I think a large part of the issue is how few designers live someplace like Michigan, where the weather gets cold and the streets get sloppy. I hope as Detroit continues to make its come-back, we see some of the designers there rise to influence with practical but awesome designs.

Michiganders: Reject "Necessity" of Inequality

Flint.

My heart still aches for Flint. I don't think it will ever stop. We've seen emergency managers step down, a few other officials resign, Snyder is heckled in Ann Arbor, national politicians have come, lots of speeches, lots of bottled water.

And in some ways, we've seen Michigan do what it does best. I know Michiganders to be kind, charitable people, compassionate when they hear about suffering. The amount of bottled water sent to Flint is an example of that.

We're also independent, stubborn, gritty, and I think some of the rhetoric coming out of this - about holding people/leaders accountable - comes from that.

Much has come out about the failure of emergency financial management. Articles have explained the deep problems with austerity budgeting. People have countered with the risks of stimulus spending. No one is 100% wrong.

Here's what I haven't heard mentioned (although it's impossible, at this point, to keep up with every thinkpiece on the Flint Water Crisis):

Michigan, in the last 100 years, has lived on the boom and bust cycle, perhaps more than any place except Wall Street. We watched as auto production boomed, and the wealthy built things like the world's largest art object - the marble and fresco-covered Fisher Theater in the New Center - while paying workman's comp and prioritizing employees. And then in 1929, things crashed. And it was terrible.

Then World War II came along, and Detroit became the Arsenal of Democracy. Rosie the Riveter was a Michigander. The state, and especially metro Detroit, kept the military stocked. People bought houses. The suburbs expanded. And then the war ended, some stuff stayed good, some stuff got messy. Racial tensions ran high. Inflation became an issue. Like I've said before, pick up The Origins of the Urban Crisis.

Here's what seems to happen in every Michigan bust:

The state slashes budgets, especially to urban centers. They cut back funding to education and other services. They allow infrastructure to deteriorate and swear they will put money back when they get it, when the economy improves.

And here's what happens in the subsequent boom:

Most of the time, they don't really put the money back in urban centers (possibly with the exception of a new tax-exempt stadium for the suburbanites to visit). They leave the budget cuts in place. Lately, that seems to have resulted in lagging economic recoveries compared to other states. If leaders have extra money, they either squirrel it away or spend on . . . consultants? Tax credits? Retreats? Beats me where the money is going in the good years, since it never seems to fix roads or run down school buildings or municipal budget shortfalls or city water systems.

And so the boom and bust seems always to result in less money for urban areas, which means that most cities end up trying to spread butter over too much bread. Crumbling infrastructure costs more to fix than routine maintenance. Poor students cost more to educate than rich ones.

So I'm calling on Michigan politicians and citizens NOT to give some money back in booms or to austerity budget or overspend and stimulate in busts.

I'm calling on all of us to reject the boom and bust cycle.

I'm calling on all of us to seek sustainable growth, sustainable funding, routine maintenance, adequate services, 100% of the time. We can do that through promoting equality, improving employment, and making sure every child has access to education. We can increase our tax base by welcoming diversity and improving services. Let's not set a quota for a number of students on to college that can be met by gathering every wealthy suburbanite into the fold. Let's set the expectation that every child can and should learn.  Let's not accept that much of the state is headed for a lead poisoning issue much like Flint's. Let's not keep joking about how bad the roads in Michigan are without any end in sight. Let's become a state where employers provide training and invest in employees.

Let's be Michiganders. Let's solve problems. Let's show compassion. Let's be gritty and inventive and stubborn.

I can't accept the alternative.

Land Bank Strikes Again: This Time it's Worse

Edit: I'm waiting for more details to come in about this.  Action steps #1 and #2 still apply. Action step #3 should be put on hold until further notice.


Remember my Open Letter to the Detroit Land Bank Authority that so many of you read and were appalled at? Remember the struggle we had a month ago to make sure that #fixerupperdetroit stayed ours? Remember the problems I articulated with the land bank?

The land bank strikes again, this time at something INFINITELY more important than #fixerupperdetroit. 

You see, even worst case scenario, if the Detroit Land Bank Authority had taken my property away and I had ended up homeless with ruined credit, it would just be me.

Now, a Detroit institution very near and dear to my heart, one of the reasons we bought in the city in the first place, a group that has helped me think and love more deeply about food and money and friends, a group that feeds neighbors, stabilizes the community, preserves the environment, and keeps me posted on how much #detroithustlesharder has been hurt by discriminatory Detroit Land Bank policies.

How?

The Detroit Land Bank has been selling side lots to try to stabilize neighborhoods. This in itself isn't a problem. Having lots owned by residents of the community is beneficial, as they are more likely to be maintained.

However, many lots were already being maintained by neighbors or urban agriculture groups. There actually were policies that approved this type of behavior (it gets complicated to explain, but suffice it to say that Detroit benefited). Faith Farm CSA was one group in a large network that was helping substantially to maintain neighborhoods, feed people, stand in the food desert gap, educate people, and farm sustainably. In fact, they have distributed more than 2.5 tons of food to the needy.

I heard months ago that some of the parcels they were maintaining (but they didn't own) were up for sale with the land bank and they were trying to file to get them permanently. At that point, Rebecca and I went all in, bought a community-supported agriculture share, and determined that we WOULD be living in the city by the time it started, whatever it took. #fixerupperdetroit ensued. Faith Farm had at least some of the cash in hand they needed to purchase the lots that they should have had precedence for.

Now Faith Farm has been notified that someone else, someone who wasn't already doing all of this maintenance, was successful in purchasing the side lots, and the farm will have to move everything to a new location. This will cost them a lot of time and money, just like when we were staring down our unreasonable rehab agreement.

I made this risotto with ingredients from my Faith Farm share. Their veggies always inspire me to cook my best!

Faith Farm eggs are absolutely delicious. You'll never eat fresher. Because their chickens eat a more varied diet than commercial chickens, their eggs are richer, creamier, and more flavorful.

This Faith Farm tomato was exquisite. Flavorful, juicy, the perfect counterpoint to fresh mozzarella and basil.

Here is what I am calling on every reader to do:

1. Financially support Faith Farm CSA by purchasing shares for this summer.

You can purchase a share for yourself or for an urban family (Faith Farm makes sure families with children and seniors in their neighborhood have fresh foods whenever possible). The food is absolutely top notch, and pickups create an opportunity for you to meet new people, learn new things, and visit their chickens and turkey. Although the amount might seem like a lot up front, when you divide it out for 18 weeks, it actually is a very reasonable price for a weekly local, organic grocery budget. And it's not a handout. It's a hand up. You will be investing in something that is directly changing Detroit neighborhoods. Faith Farm still has a chance to buy other lots from the land bank to continue production, but they need to make sure they have the resources to do so. Our direct support is essential.

If you can't buy a full share, consider donating what you can. Some of you offered to support a Gofundme for our legal fees, and I trust that you will put that money to good use now that #fixerupperdetroit is in the clear but another important group isn't.

2. Volunteer at a Faith Farm workday

If you are around Detroit and have time, Faith Farm organizers are looking for help, especially if you have access to tools and equipment. This is a great chance to meet new people, get your hands dirty, and see permaculture in action.

3. Contact the land bank to complain*

You can comment about Faith Farm on the Detroit Land Bank Authority facebook page or leave a negative review, tweet @1DLBA, or call (313) 974-6869. The land bank is already suffering from negative publicity due to actions that have targeted homeowners like us.

*Please hold off on this as we await further details.

My heart is breaking that such good people doing such important work will have to allocate resources they don't really have because of the bureaucratic failings of their city.

DPS, MBA, disaster: Sickouts came from somewhere

I attended GMAT training this weekend and last weekend. My employer was looking for a few more instructors, and I had put in interest, since it's similar to one or two other tests that I teach and would allow me more flexibility.

 But the other reason that I am attending GMAT training is that I am trying to figure out next steps. I am planning to go back to school eventually, probably when Rebecca finishes her residency, and I am considering what degrees I could best to leverage to improve Detroit.

There are many options, given that Detroit has many problems. For a while I considered a Masters of Public Health, so that I could address the environmental issues facing the children of the city. For a while I considered a law degree so that I could make sure that students with special needs were receiving the services that the law guaranteed that. There was a time when I thought that an Ed.D. in something related to education was the best choice, or perhaps a PhD in second language acquisition.

I haven't completely ruled out any of those choices. All of them sound interesting, and do much to research and apply new concepts of problem-solving. I know people with each of these degrees, and I deeply admire the work that they are doing.

However, there is a new field of study that I am considering after pondering what degrees I've been seeing used in decision-making lately.

Robert Bobb? MS in Business Studies.  Roy Roberts? Bachelor's in Business Administration. Darnell Earley? Master's in Public Administration (and Ph.D. in poisoning entire cities). None of the emergency financial managers had a background in education (although Robert Bobb did attend a school superintendent training program created by business mogul Eli Broad).

Governor Snyder has a JD and MBA. 

What degree do many of those controlling the vast majority of the wealth in Detroit have? Business degrees. Administration degrees.

My wife pointed out, at one point, that even in Flint, people with PhDs, DOs, and MDs were ignored for months when they insisted that Flint children were being poisoned by the water. They've also been ignored when they've insisted that the children in Wayne County are being poisoned and shortchanged. Given how long med school is, add some residency, add a high level of difficulty for those doing residencies particularly at urban hospitals, and it is very puzzling that the state has ignored those with that kind of degree, but they did.

And so I believe that I may need to get an MBA to get people to listen to me. Given my nontraditional background for business school, I feel that it would be important to my application to have a very, very high GMAT score. So I went to training to learn more about the test, because I doubt my background in education will count in my favor if the state is unwilling to listen to educators about things like school conditions and curriculum.

After all, what could a teacher know about the business of schooling?

Land Bank, Red Tape, MI Hate: #fixerupperdetroit lawyers up

Today's post was going to a charming tale about how demolition makes a better story in a 30 minute HGTV show, where it's like five minutes and over, and only shows the exciting parts, than it does in real life, especially when the people doing it have other jobs.

Here are the pictures you would have gotten to see:

Panoramic of our fully gutted kitchen.

This window apparently used to be much bigger, or even a door? Not sure.

This is where our ground floor lavatory will go.

The dumpster is starting to fill up!

Panoramic of our street. Isn't it lovely with a light blanket of snow?

Rebecca deserves mad props for having pulled up this much tile, leveling cement, and hardwood. This is down to the subfloor now. What were those holes for? Not exactly sure. Plumbing or heat, maybe.

It's been a lot of work getting everything hauled to this dumpster!

Did I mention I'm proud of myself for hauling out so much rubbish?

Instead, I'm writing an update about the land bank story line. For back story, see: Why Detroit Can't Have Nice Things and #fixerupperdetroit Googles Squatters' Rights.

I heard from the lawyer recently and explained the situation and that we're on a renovation mortgage and would be happy to provide documentation of that so they can close our file.

She wrote back to say that she must follow a specific procedure. The "easiest" option is for us to sign a rehab agreement. That seemed reasonable-ish -

if you ignore the fact that entering into an agreement with an entity that operates very slowly, doesn't correspond with other agencies before acting, uses a lot of vague requirements, doesn't exist in most cities, could take away your house, and doesn't have to notify you of situations before acting is unreasonable -

until I read it.

And then I started thinking about our timeline for renovation for the bank, and the timeline they laid out, and how much paperwork and verification we already have to do to keep our renovation mortgage working, and how much we've already inconvenienced our contractor, and how busy we are with just what we've agreed to now, and how impossible it can be to file paperwork with the city, and how much paperwork this would require.

The nuisance complaint isn't even because of us. The neighbors would retract it in a heartbeat if they could.

So I called a real estate attorney and we will see what he says.

This is why people don't buy homes in the city. It's not that the homes aren't beautiful - many are. It's not that the neighbors aren't great - they are. It's the amount of red tape and the way services are delivered.

Rich Privilege: Difference Between Couldn't Afford and Didn't Afford

I've been noticing something lately. It's one of those things I didn't used to notice, but once I started noticing, I can't stop.

It's the use of the phrase "I can't afford X."

As in, "I just can't afford another tutoring session." Or "we really can't afford to travel right now."

It's not so much that I notice that people don't have enough resources to do stuff. That happens a lot. What I've been noticing is that people don't always understand what "can't afford" means.

"Can't afford" means that you do not actually possess, and cannot acquire, the resources to do something, or alternatively, that allocating the resources for this particular thing would be skipping a necessity such as food, shelter, water, heat, etc.

There are many things I can't afford. A private plane. A home in Indian Village. A really nice car (I know I should name a specific ones, but I'm not into cars enough to know which ones are too expensive).

On the other hand, there are things that I don't afford, but could. I don't afford a European vacation, but at this point in my life, I could make choices to have one. I don't afford designer handbags, or manicures, or fine jewelry. I am privileged enough that my necessities are met, and I have enough income to make choices between luxuries.

The temptation of the privileged, though, is often to pretend not to be privileged. And so  it's easier to say "I can't afford" than to admit that this particular thing isn't a priority (particularly when it's something that perhaps should seem like a priority if one could, in fact, come up with the resources).

That seems to lead to another phenomenon, which is the belief that the only people who are truly rich in the US are those who not only can, but do, afford everything. As in, they don't have to prioritize. They don't have to choose. There are people currently alive that can buy everything they would ever want without having to sacrifice other things.

But having to choose between a beautiful home in a wonderful neighborhood and a vacation to a faraway land is its own kind of wealth. Of course, both would be amazing. Of course part of me wishes I didn't have to choose.

On the other hand, I know this house is right for us because I was willing to choose it over so many alternatives. And if I hadn't chosen the house, it's not like I would be staying someplace unsafe or particularly inconvenient. Thinking this way helps me keep it in perspective when I see families choose to pay for travel sports teams instead of academic tutors, or when I see politicians choose to pay for war instead of infrastructure, or when corporations hire another executive at six figures instead of giving raises to rank and file employees, or when a state gives tax cuts to large businesses while its public school system literally rots.

It's easier to claim that one can't afford something than to admit that the resources were available but went elsewhere. 

The next time you think that you can't afford something, ask yourself if it in fact just isn't a priority right now. It's eye-opening what I've noticed I prioritize.

Update: #fixerupperdetroit Googles Squatter's Rights

Today, I googled. I googled the phrase "squatter's rights Detroit," in fact.

Yesterday, I told you that we received a sign on our door from the Detroit Land Bank Authority that we had three days to call their number or we risked our home being seized.

We called twice. No one answered.

So I sent over some documents, Rebecca took this afternoon off, we gathered up some paperwork, contacted a bunch of people, and tried not to collapse under the weight of another straw on the camel's back.

I called the land bank today and sat on the phone answering and asking questions. The woman told me their attorney would call in 5-10 business days with instructions. I asked if I needed to fill out forms, if I needed to get money together, what I had done wrong, if I could see my file, if they're going to try to take my house. She repeated that the lawyer would call in 5-10 business days.  I told her that my demolition day is scheduled for fewer than 5 business days from now. She said I could keep working on the house. I tried to explain to her that I don't want to work on a house if they're going to take it away. She told me that she can't give me any information, nor is there a website or other set of documentation that explains protocol.

At this point, this process is starting to seem pretty undemocratic.

I've been suspicious of the land bank for a while now, but that's another post.

So I started googling. I was trying to figure out how to establish occupancy, because I've read that an eviction is harder than a seizure. We wouldn't really be squatters, since we have the deed and have paid for the property and so forth, but I thought it might help. (It didn't really.)

Then Rebecca filed our property transfer affidavit and principal residence exemption and changed her Secretary of State address to our house.

I called two different lawyers to see what I should do. I can meet with one of them on Friday, and I think he can help if it comes down to it, though that's another set of fees that can't go toward actually REPAIRING this house and then occupying it, which I'm pretty sure is supposed to be the land bank's goal.

And then, I contacted a friend who works for the land bank, and she was able to pull our records. She confirmed my suspicion: the neighbors had filed a nuisance complaint against the previous owner for neglecting the property. That's fair. They had been mowing the lawn and pruning the trees for him. He hadn't done any repairs in a long time. The garage is falling down, and there was a pile of trash in the backyard.

My friend is pretty sure the complaint will either be dismissed or that we'll have to agree to rehab the property (which is what we did when we took out a renovation mortgage, so I guess that's fine). I wish the land bank would have actually looked at the property, though. It no longer looks like a nuisance.

It looks like it's in process.

Just like most of us.

DPS Sickout: In Defense of Teacher Sick Days

Lately, Detroit Public Schools has had sickouts.

For those who have never heard of those, it's when a large number of teachers call in sick on the same day, resulting in school being cancelled due to an inability or refusal to fill all of the spots with subs.

I can't say that I'm privy to any backroom discussions, so I don't know if these are coordinated, though it seems likely that they are. And though I don't find school being closed ideal, here's some real talk:

Teachers go to school sick all. the. time.

Lately, probably even more than they used to, because Michigan is experiencing a substitute teacher shortage on top of a full-time teacher shortage. Class sizes have risen. Some districts are forcing teachers to teach on their prep period to cover classes without subs. I've even seen places that combined two elementary classes, putting 40-50 children in one classroom, because they didn't have a sub. If teachers actually stayed home when they're sick, as undoubtedly some of those calling in to the sickout are, schools couldn't or wouldn't run. Schools, like almost every other business (yeah, schools are a business now, I went there) run with no slack. So many teachers go to work while they're sick.

Some more real talk: Teachers have been blamed for their students' lack of success, despite the amount of money, time (recent studies show that the average full-time public school teacher works 60 hours a week), and energy they put in. Legislators don't show up every day to take care and teach of 25-50 human beings at a time. Emergency financial managers don't take multiple developmental stages into consideration on a moment-by-moment basis. Legislators and emergency financial managers can call in when sick without feeling that they're letting people down. Heck, they can go to the bathroom without feeling that they're letting people down.

Not to mention that legislators and emergency financial managers haven't been given more work to do with less pay and worse benefits. (Darnell Earley, the new DPS emergency manager, makes about $221,000 per year while telling teachers they deserve less than a quarter of that.)

Somehow, emergency financial managers and legislators aren't blamed when the things they're in charge of go badly. (In fact, if you're Darnell Earley, as the emergency manager of a large city, you can poison the children with toxic water, and the consequence is getting promoted to managing the largest school district in the state.)

Nope, financial managers and legislators aren't blamed for things.

Things like making sure there's enough money to maintain school buildings so that schools don't have electrical outages on random days.

(Oh, you didn't know that DPS has also been having school closures from power outages when there hasn't been a storm?)

Things like making sure teachers have enough supplies for every student.
Things like keeping track of how many students are in each classroom so they don't exceed the legal maximum.
Things like making sure it's impossible for principals to steal money (oh, sorry, it was EAA, not DPS, being indicted for that) that was supposed to fund instructional time for students.

 Sickouts aren't ideal, but no one has listened or made positive changes when teachers have voiced their concerns through typical channels. If you have a suggestion that doesn't involve teachers working for free, abysmal working conditions, larger class sizes, or other poor outcomes, I'm sure they'd love to hear it.

Confessions: I Hated Being Poor

I just read an article posted by a friend of a friend about the trend of tiny houses and the glorification of poverty or "the simple life." You can read The Troubling Trendiness of Poverty Appropriation
for yourself - it's definitely thought-provoking. It isn't demonizing the practice of minimalism for a reduction in consumerism, but it criticizes the middle class and wealthy, particularly hipsters, of romanticizing and copying behaviors or items they associate with poverty. Pretty sure reusing Mason jars counts. Ditto the obsession with "authentic" dive bars, dumpster diving, and a trend I don't understand where anarchists go on welfare to avoid participating in capitalism (yeah, read the article, I guess people do this, though given how hard it is to go on welfare in Michigan when one actually has no other option, I don't know how they manage).

I read the article introspectively - things were really tight for a while during the Recession while I was underemployed/underpaid/underinsured and Rebecca was in med school, and as members of the LGBT community, we also faced oppression in terms of some of the systems we could have used. Our marriage wasn't recognized, which affected our tax status and my access to her insurance. So as you know, we were on food stamps for a little bit, I calculated the price of food per pound, I worked two jobs with irregular hours, avoided seeing the doctor so I wouldn't have to pay a co-pay or deductible, visited the student food pantry, and rented out our second bedroom to lower housing costs. That's around the time I started playing the remnant game, too.

It wasn't simple. It wasn't easy. It was really, really hard, even with an end date. Some of you remember the story about the second worst day of my life and 72 hour psych holds, which happened in the thick of this. With the benefit of hindsight, of course, I know that we didn't stay broke forever, and that I would mostly get my mental illness managed on much lower amounts of medication than I thought possible, and that someday we would be buying a house, and that having money drastically reduces the likelihood of having to sleep on someone else's floor. At the time, though, it wasn't glamorous.

And in some ways, for us it was a choice for Rebecca to follow her calling (into a career that admittedly hasn't made enough room for people with even slightly limited means, such as her, let alone people who grew up in poverty). She could have remained a despairing pharmaceutical engineer with a high salary and no integrity. We could have lived in a nice suburb, driven nice cars, eaten whatever people eat in that situation. We still had access to credit that helped prevent the worst effects of poverty and the knowledge that it would be over someday, or even that if it came down to it, Rebecca could leave med school (or I could take a position in Asia that paid a significant amount for the teaching of English).

Our poverty was clearly temporary and to some degree, optional, and it was still incredibly difficult. Romanticizing it, and worse, capitalizing on it, is strange. I learned a lot during that time, and I hope I will continue to use my resources well. 

I also hope I will never have to scramble like that again.

MI Love: Greenacres - All the neighbors will stop by

I mentioned yesterday that we had a meeting with our contractor (Rufino Labra of Labra Design Build, who should really get his own MI Love post at some point, but for now you can visit his website to see his portfolio) to figure out if we can afford to fix the house.

I arrived to our house early and sat on the porch to wait for the realtor - and I decided to wave at cars as they drove past. Most waved back. Some called out hello. Rebecca laughed at me, but I'm pretty sure waving was the right thing to do.

We had a productive meeting; I love watching Fino's problem-solving process. We're still waiting on a couple items from the inspection, but we tentatively have a plan in place to get the house livable, though it will be a few years before it's restored to its former glory. (How long? Part of that depends how many of you volunteer to spend a few Saturdays helping with projects.)

And then our next door neighbor came home as we were leaving and stopped to chat; he said once we close and move in, all the neighbors will stop by to say hello. He acknowledged that high insurance prices are an issue and that there are other challenges, but he also said he wouldn't want to live anywhere else, and after every single visit to Greenacres, we can see why.

Now we have to close.

Confessions of Weekday Dinners: Raise Quality with Lowered Expectations

Confessions: I don't cook nearly as much as I used to. And I probably don't eat all of my fruits and veggies every day. And I don't budget as well as I should. But I'm doing pretty well for now, and a few people have asked me to share how I pull off some semblance of home cooking on my chaotic schedule.

Another confession: I don't have children. Right now, I'm not completely on a full-time schedule. And we're in a more solid financial situation, so my budget isn't as tight as it used to be.

So: there is NO judgment in this post. If you have had to order takeout, or serve pizza out of your freezer, or served people cereal for dinner, or whatever, it happens and it's okay and I definitely do it sometimes too. This post isn't supposed to guilt you or shame you or anything like that. I just wanted to give a few ideas that might lighten your load.

1. Lower your expectations

I love buying and prepping fresh veggies, especially from the farm market or my own backyard. I love long, intricate food prep and infusing the exact right flavor blend.

When I have time.

When I don't, though, those veggies sit in my veggie drawer and wilt, I end up trying to salvage them past peak, I don't get to use them for the dishes intended, and I feel guilty when I sometimes have to throw them out (and don't compost because composting got too hard in our apartment situation).

The fix: acknowledge that frozen or canned veggies are sometimes okay, or pre-chopped things from the grocery store if you can budget for them. Canned tomatoes actually taste better in the winter unless you're splurging on local hothouse ones (which you should do if you can, but . . . ). Frozen veggies don't have added salt and are pre-washed, pre-chopped, easy additions to soups, stir fries, casseroles, etc. Using leftovers, also okay. Prepping ahead, okay. One-dish meals, okay. Not serving an Instagram-worthy plated dinner, okay. Give yourself permission to do what works, even if it's not ideal.

2. Plan ahead and delegate as necessary

I have quite a few items that are staples - I know I'm going to use them, so I keep them on hand. Here's a link to stuff I stock in my fridge, and another link for pantry items. I also try to look about a week ahead in terms of how much time I'll have to cook/shop and set myself up for that. If I'm going to need chicken for multiple meals, I'll slow cook or bake it a day or two ahead sometimes, or I'll simmer a pot of black beans or slow cook a pork shoulder butt thingy and then make three separate meals from those. Rachael Ray's cookbooks can give you ideas for this if you're not sure how to make it work for you.

Also, unless you live alone, there's probably someone who can be helping - a partner, older child, cat (okay, just kidding, don't make your cat help). Think about tasks they can work with you on. I have pretty good estimations at this point about which meals I have to do myself (usually because they use my secret seasoning blends or are kind of time consuming) and which things someone else can do. If you have to teach someone how to do a few things, it's probably worth it in the long run, unless you enjoy being solely responsible.

3. Make dinner salads and soups

My go-to option for a quick, healthy dinner is salad or soup (especially soup I can make in a slow cooker . . . are you seeing a trend?). These are relatively easy to set up as one dish meals, don't require lots of stirring, and are easy to customize. Oh, and for added convenience and to lower your grocery bills (plus increase nutrition): skip meat, or go light on it. Having to thaw and/or cook it adds time, it often adds fat to your meals, it's one of the more expensive things, pound for pound, that you can be buying, and generally, it's going to decrease your creativity/flexibility if you feel like you must include it. The average American isn't short on protein (unless you're a body builder). We ARE short on the nutrients we get from fruits, vegetables, legumes, whole grains, etc. That's not to say you have to go vegan, but you might be surprised how much time/money you can save by cutting back on meat.

Okay, so what does this look like for a week? Here's this week's plan (though it's subject to change):

I took stock of my schedule/fridge/pantry last night and checked in with my wife and roommate about grocery items we're short on and then started a grocery list. Since I'm working 3:30-5:30 pm and 6:30-7:30 pm, I won't be home to make dinner tonight, so I got a vegan black bean chili (tomato paste, diced tomatoes, frozen corn, adobo sauce from a can, salsa, quartered fresh onions, drained black beans) started in the slow cooker this morning that I hope will feed us for today and tomorrow.

I already know that I'm not going to be home evenings much this week and that the helpmate or roommie like salads with romaine lettuce, so I picked up some cranberry goat cheese (seasonal at Trader Joe's - most affordable place in the area to buy nice cheese) and romaine hearts. We already have fresh apples, pecans in the freezer, and I made up a vinaigrette yesterday that we can throw on top. It'll be up to them whatever else they add. This can be packed up for lunches or used again a different day with different dressing or toppings (I think we have dried figs and Craisins in the pantry) for another easy meal.

Last for-sure item: lentil tacos. I can make up the lentil filling (lentils, onion, garlic, adobo sauce leftover from the can opened for today's chili) ahead and then it reheats pretty well, and the rest is just warming tortillas, shredding lettuce, prepping tomatoes - I put out Greek yogurt instead of sour cream (because as mentioned in a previous post, it's always in my fridge and reasonably healthy), salsa, avocado if I have it - but you can top them however you want. So tacos, another go-to, flexible meal option.

One Last Confession: I have stuff for chicken casserole like my mama used to make for us. I was supposed to make it last week and didn't. I'm kind of thinking I might not get to it this week either. Basically, it's diced pre-cooked chicken (and mine is frozen right now, which prevents spoilage but adds to how much I have to plan) mixed with a can of cream soup and frozen veggies, spread into a 9 by 13 pan and topped with biscuit dough/batter (I have some biscuit mix I've been meaning to use up). Not hard, but I have to be home while it bakes and it's not really make ahead. Maybe if I get it set up, the roommie can throw it in the oven at an appropriate time? It's an ultimate comfort food.

I hope to get time together to make pumpkin bread - I picked up canned pumpkin a couple weeks ago and haven't used it. We also have a pie pumpkin that's currently being an adorable balcony decoration, but if I'm really ambitious I might bake and puree it. Maybe I will mix the dry ingredients and put them in a jar? This is effectively making my own pumpkin bread mix, which lets me work in the ground flax, whole wheat flour,  and oatmeal I like, but like I said, no shame in using a box if you have to.

Confessions: I'll Probably Never Stop Calculating Price of Food per Pound

Most of us know a senior citizen or two with habits we think are a little eccentric that they attribute to life in the Great Depression or World War II. Adding salt to coffee. Swiping out the last of the egg residue with her index finger. Saving jars. Dealing with tiny soap nubbins. Most of them think it's normal, or don't even realize they're doing it. But of course, lots of people don't do these things.

Now that the Recession is ending and Rebecca has been a doctor for more than a year (see my post about what med-wife life is like),  we no longer hemorrhage money or burn up savings or wonder how we're going to pay for things as much as we used to. The financial stability of her having a regular salary and me being on a decent hourly-wage paycheck has allowed me to reflect on habits I formed during the Recession.

One habit I have been teased about (and yes, I often still do this) is calculating price per pound on food - as in, "well, our vegetable this week will be cabbage and onions, since it's winter and they're the only thing under $1/pound." Of course, now I sometimes splurge, but one consideration is still amount of nutrition, price, volume/weight in terms of the whole meal. Sun-dried tomatoes seem expensive per pound, for instance, but they're very high in nutrients, and given that it takes something like 6 pounds of fresh tomatoes to make 1 pound of dried, divide the dry price by 6 to compare to fresh. As a bonus, they keep longer, reducing my food waste. I've done this to varying degrees, but I probably reached my peak when we were living in Wyandotte, couldn't go to Horrock's anymore, and had to fall back on food stamps for about a year (as I describe in my post about being a welfare queen). To many, this practice seems strange coming from someone who didn't deal with food insecurity as a child and is now married to a physician, but I doubt I'll ever completely stop thinking of food like this.

Another habit from the Recession is putting off major purchases as long as possible. Rebecca and I finally got a new printer in the last couple months. The one we have has never worked well, and the software, hardware, interface, etc have only gone downhill. By the end, it could take up to a half hour to print or scan a one to two page document, and Rebecca couldn't use it from any of her devices, so she would print from work or borrow my computer. The new one has saved so much time and frustration - part of me can't believe we lived like that for so long. I hope we don't have to again. But I don't know where we would have gotten money for a new printer before recently. We have no intentions of getting a new TV before what we're currently using dies (and I think it was a hand-me-down, and might actually be a computer monitor - it doesn't have a remote, and to change it between input sources requires physically unplugging things). In the end, I guess I don't know why I would pay more money for something unnecessary, though I suppose I might be surprised in the same way I'm still delighted when the printer actually works.

All of these were survival techniques for a while. I've been asked if we ate a lot of ramen. We didn't. I think some of that came from knowing this isn't ending anytime soon, so temporary nutrition fixes like ramen noodles, mac and cheese, and hot dogs, that could ultimately jeopardize our long term health if we persisted, seemed more dangerous than it would have been if we were just dealing with a couple summers during college. This wasn't time limited. If it was going to last indefinitely - and remember that we didn't know the Recession would ever end - we had to look past foods that would be cheap short term but could come with serious health implications. And so our grocery carts were filled with lots of dry beans, tofu, rice, and fruits and veggies carefully calculated at $1/pound or less. My meal planning list started to include homemade whole grain focaccia, rice pilaf, remnant paella stew with the cheapest canned tomatoes and canned white beans and frozen veggies I could find. I saved pasta jars to avoid buying Tupperware. We sharpened our thrifting skills.

Most of my Recession habits will be ultimately beneficial. Resources on this planet are finite, and remembering that and acting accordingly is not only thrifty, it's the moral path I choose to take. Delaying gratification can have great payoffs in the end, sometimes.

Some other Recession habits I'm working to break, though, because I'm finding them detrimental. For instance - believing I'm just fortunate to have a job, any job, fortunate to be paid anything, anything at all, and don't deserve a raise or bonus or autonomy. During the Recession, I was fortunate never to experience long-term unemployment, but I was underemployed, underpaid, and even uninsured at one point. Believing I had little worth and had to just be a pawn or commodity deeply affected how much agency I believed I had, how talented I thought I was, or how impactful my life could be. I also internalized my difficulty paying our bills as meaning that I was a bad person for not having money saved and for Rebecca having to take out debt (see post Gays didn't break marriage: we found it like this).

Combine these beliefs, and I've ended up in a lot of workaholism benders in the past year, fearing that I will fall back into my previous circumstances. I've also put off buying items that, unlike a new TV or printer, drastically affect the quality of everyday life. During the Recession, my weight fluctuated a lot for a variety of reasons. That started to bother me less at some point, as I discuss in Eff Your Beauty Standards and My Philosophy of Food, but at some point, there really wasn't money to keep buying clothes that actually fit me, and weight fluctuations were another reminder of our limited resources. Some fixes were to buy dresses that were A-line or flowier in the areas where I tended to carry my weight - and I have to admit that I really love wearing dresses as much as I do now, so I'm grateful it was kind of a necessity (see this post about looking like a lesbian - or not). But I've chosen to wear other things that were really uncomfortable - slacks, undergarments, shoes, etc - longer than I should have because I didn't really have much of an alternative. Or I avoided buying trendy clothing with the thought that I didn't know when I could buy something new or when things would go out of style. Even thrifting was kind of out some months.

In the last year, I've tried to be careful about purchasing new items, but I've had to replace a lot. And some of the things I'm buying, if I'm honest, are still hedging against the possibility that my body might change, that style will change, that money might be tight. I've had to learn that being comfortable enough to live my life is worth something, and that buying a new pair of jeans is okay.

I'm glad the Recession is over. I wish I could have learned these lessons some other way, or that I hadn't had to learn some of them (mostly just the one about being underpaid and a commodity) at all. We've been blessed, as I've mentioned before, to have had our educations, and each other, and access to credit. Things could have been much worse. In any case, I'm glad that I have learned most of these lessons, and I hope that I'll remember them, whether or not I choose to continue living that way.

Confessions: I was a Welfare Queen

I've seen food stamps (also known as SNAP or EBT) in the news a lot lately. There's a lot of vitriol about them, and a lot of judgment. People like to refer to "welfare queens" that have a better living on government benefits than those who work, when they are just as capable of working. I've tried sharing links to the statistics about EBT with little reaction, and now I'm attempting to bring in a truth that may help to change a few minds about this program. So here it is.

I was a welfare queen.

Twice.

For a year each time.

Now, Erin, you say, you weren't really a welfare queen. You only used one government program, and not for very long, and you were working, and you really needed the help. You bettered yourself and worked hard, and now look at you stand on your own two feet. That's not being a welfare queen.

Okay. So how many programs would have made me a welfare queen? I also should have been on Medicaid, but through some restrictions and bureaucracy wasn't. That's not to say that I wouldn't have used Medicaid if I could have. I also would have used section eight housing subsidies at the time if the waiting list hadn't been so long. It's actually really hard to get that many benefits or keep them for very long, but I would have done so if it meant that I could live in a safe apartment, have regular medical care, and know where my next meal would come from. Because, you see, while I was working, in most cases two jobs or full time or on a stipend that MSU must have believed was a living wage, my hours were so irregular and my pay was so low that even with a college education, I needed some help.

To those of you who count me as somehow better than the people you actually perceive to be welfare queens, perhaps because I only used EBT for a short time or was working (which is how most people use them - see link), do you believe that the food stamps allowed me to get out of poverty more quickly? Do you believe I would have escaped my low income situation faster if I had been allowed to run out of money, sell my car, get even sicker from malnutrition, lose my job because I couldn't reliably be there? I've heard that argument - that if I had hit rock bottom, I would have worked harder. Maybe. I'm glad I didn't have to find out.

To those who think that every person who ever uses food stamps should be like me, I will also assert that I came into the Recession - into poverty, into the hemorrhaging of money that a forced relocation to the Detroit area after my MA program and Rebecca's preclerkship ended - with much more than many. I had two BAs and an MA from a quality university. I had work experience. I had the ability to finance a car. I had a network of people around me who were employed and could vouch for me. So while I didn't have money, I had a lot. I'm grateful for all of that. Things could have been much worse - I see much, much worse for some of my students. And I would argue that they still don't deserve to starve. Ideally, we would offer them job training and assistance in finding employment, although it's not that simple, but in the meantime, they don't deserve to be homeless (oh, did I mention that I've been homeless?).

Jesus said that as we do unto the least of these, we do unto Him. Jesus preached the Beatitudes. So whatever you say about welfare queens, I hope you would be willing to say about me. I hope that my story comes to mind. I hope that you're willing to consider people needing grace and help in a time when things are really hard and really scary.

Budgeting

Rebecca ran our finances yesterday and looked at where our money is going. The bad news: we're spending too much to meet our financial goals. The worse news: most of our overages are going to food. We love food. We'd been tired of scrimping and saving when med school ended and we relocated, so we weren't very careful when the paychecks started coming in. But we need to buy Rebecca a new laptop soon, and we would like to take a vacation in February. We would also eventually like a house and to pay off Rebecca's student loans.

The good news is that food is relatively easy to get under control, given that we have still allotted a fairly generous amount to it. We've decided not to buy more alcohol until what we have in the house is used up and to perhaps only have it for special occasions. We're also both going to try to pack more lunches instead of buying lunch out so that "food out money" can be saved for dates (or saved, period). Additionally, we'll be switching away from meat to eggs, dry beans, and other cheaper sources of protein. I'm not really that sad about this - we're good at preparing these things, and grilling season is almost over anyway. In the fall, it's nice to sit down to vegetarian chili, homemade falafel, and lentil tacos.

Another tactic is to be much better about food waste. Despite some effort, we haven't been managing to finish our leftovers. I often get tired of them, or they don't reheat well. Many days, I don't have access to a microwave to reheat things, so I can't take leftovers for lunch. Rebecca more often can but forgets.

So expect to see more cost-conscious (while still health-conscious) food ideas come up. There will still be splurges (we're having an actual dinner party on September 27th), but with an eye toward using things already in our kitchen as much as possible.

At Long Last

We've been trying to get a price quote from our venue for probably about a week now. We knew they were really chill when we decided to have the ceremony there, so I'm not surprised it took so long. It's been difficult, sometimes, to get hold of our contact at Gone Wired, but once we do, Colleen has always been very nice and accommodating, so I felt confident that things would come together. That also gave us the flexibility to change things at the last minute, something a traditional venue wouldn't allow us.

Colleen gave me a call this morning, and the price actually came in under their original estimate! We'll be able to stick to what we budgeted for food - we were looking at around $1200, which we'll hit with the rehearsal dinner, ceremony, and cake included. Words can't describe how happy I am. We need to get a deposit down by Wednesday.

In other news, I still have some things to pick up before the ceremony, including a changeover bucket from the MSU Dairy Store (super excited about that).

I'm starting to get nervous about everything. I want everything to be beautiful - non-traditional but traditional where it counts, and I want everyone to have a really nice time, eat some delicious food, and spend quality time with us. I'm trying to keep the main thing the main thing - committing to the person I love - and not worry too much about the small things.

That Thing

We did that thing. The thing that every bride-to-be does, without meaning to. The thing that ends up being a problem in the end when everything is said and done. The thing that most brides promise themselves not to do.

I don't mean being a bride-zilla, although I'm sure that will happen at some point (and when it does, I promise to hang my head in shame and write a post about it).

I mean that we spent more than we intended to and created extra work for ourselves.

See, I had this brilliant idea. We're in México, right? And we love Mexican art. We'd already purchased two amate paintings. Then I thought, why not use amate paintings for our invitations? Surely we could find an artisan willing to sell us 60 or so for a good price. We had already calculated that getting them printed through a standard printing website would be about $50, so certainly we could do it for that.

So we headed down to the artisan market. We did, in fact, find amate in the perfect size. We did, in fact, find exquisitely beautiful amate. The only problem? Amate generally costs about 10 pesos, or a little less than $1. We bargained with a couple different vendors, since nobody had enough paintings to buy from a single artisan, and we ended up paying $550 pesos, or about $50.

This sounds good, right? It sounds like we came out at the same price. However, we've now given the mouse a cookie, because we cannot simply mail people an amate painting. We still must get a card printed and put into an envelope. The plan is to buy blank note cards a little bigger than the paintings and rubber cement the paintings to the front after we print them off at home. Still, this is an added expense and effort.

So we did that thing. Anyone want to come help us assemble invites?