One Year of #OwnerOccupieDetroit: Anniversary in the D

I know it's been a while since I posted - things got away from me.

The good news is that #fixerupperdetroit has come a long way from where we were at a year ago yesterday, when we officially moved in to a construction site with no kitchen and a life of plaster dust.

Being a Detroit resident is a dream come true. I see the Spirit of Detroit on my utility bills, my neighbors are amazing, and our house is set up to hold a couple dozen people for a birthday party.

Better yet, our house is sending the vibe we want it to. People go through our cupboards and fridge to find things they need. They let themselves in our front door. Yesterday, when we had a gargantuan group of people over for Rebecca's birthday, I heard that people were washing dirty dishes themselves because we ran out of dishes (I'm pretty sure we started with a dozen clean bowls and more than a dozen dinner plates) and they didn't want to bother me while I was hostessing. We finished an entire slow cooker full of Thai vegetable soup. A giant tray of crab rangoons. 20+ fresh rolls. We had to open up an extra table just for desserts people brought. Two people ended up chilling in my upstairs office to chat someplace quieter. People hung out with new friends. Basically, they treated my home like their home. Like they're family. Which they are.

Our Sunday night Table for 12+ potluck has been a wonderful experience. I joke that it incentivizes me to clean my house, but I find myself looking forward to hosting such a casual event and bringing people from many walks of life together. I hope other people will consider joining me in hosting an event like this regularly - it doesn't have to be every week. Once a month would also work.

Yes, there will be potluck on Sunday, May 7th from 6 pm to 9 pm (ish). And you're invited. The Palmer Park Art Fair is this weekend and just a short drive or bike ride away, so I encourage you to visit it and support local artists before you come to #fixerupperdetroit for dinner.

Confessions: November 2016 Has Me at a Loss for Words

National Blog Post Month really didn't go well this year. In fact, it went better last year, despite our mold infestation and trying to close on a house owned by an incompetent, negligent, business un-savvy real estate speculator.

I haven't posted in about two weeks. I could try to blame hosting Thanksgiving and Sunday open dinner, but that's not the reason.

I could try to blame doing home repairs.

I could try to blame a stressful work schedule, or having to box up our antique booth, or any number of other things.

Most of you are compassionate. Most of you would give me a pass.

But I don't feel like I deserve a pass.

The truth is that I haven't been writing because I feel guilty and powerless after the results of the election.

I feel guilty that I didn't post about my concerns about a Trump administration. No, I don't have thousands of readers. No, this blog isn't a huge platform. But I do have readers. People here and there consider my perspectives.

And I didn't write because I thought that people already knew how dangerous a Trump presidency could be. I thought that my years of reading about Latin American dictatorships, of trying to understand what conditions cause revolution and political instability wouldn't matter, that people would write it off even if I explained it well, and I questioned if I could explain it well enough for people to see the parallels between Pinochet or Trujillo or the Perones or Bucaram and Trump. I didn't think he could win. I didn't want to rock the boat. I didn't want to sift through the comments on social media and moderate and defend. I didn't want to find out that more than zero of my associates support a bigoted, inept businessman for the head of state of a world power.

And if I continue in the vein of confessions, I haven't been writing because I've used up the energy it would take to write in calling representatives. I hate using the phone, but it's the best way to make elected officials listen. So it takes a lot for me to get up the gumption to do it. I haven't as much as I should. I see people who call every day, or more than once a day, and I'm in awe that they can. I'm in awe at how many voicemails they leave, that they  have a script, that they re-dial if the line is busy. It gives me hope to see their activism. But I also feel guilty that I don't match that level of advocacy.

I also feel guilty because I have so much privilege now that I might not be significantly impacted by many of the policies I anticipate being harmful. (Unless my wife or I are assaulted in a hate crime, which, you know, is now much more likely. So there's that.) We have so much privilege that we recently ordered a brand new couch for the family room at #fixerupperdetroit (our first brand new couch EVER - hooray for adulting). We don't really budget for grocery store purchases much anymore. We joke about "throwing money at problems," but we actually do, and it's great. It's so much easier than the "creative accounting" and "shrewd budgeting" and coupon clipping and waiting for sales and doing without and such that we used to do, and Rebecca's growing salary makes it okay. We're already married, and even if Obergefell v. Hodges and Windsor v. US are overturned, my marriage certificate will likely continue to be valid and recognized. We already bought a house at a reasonable interest rate, and Rebecca's salary will cover the mortgage even if we're underwater. We have the money to pay attorneys. We're White. We're Christian.

I feel guilty because we have a lot of privilege and because I've shirked what I perceive to be my responsibilities as an informed citizen.

But I also confess that despite my privilege, I feel powerless.

You see, I voted in the primaries. Carefully. Using research. Like, down to voting for former public defenders as judges instead of former prosecutors as judges because public defenders who become judges are more likely to support sentences that rehabilitate and restore.

I voted in the presidential election. Carefully. Using research. Like, down to comparing credentials for sixty-three Detroit Community School District school board representatives.

I voted, and I'm still terrified.


And now the research I'm doing is whether there's a such thing as personal political upheaval insurance. I'm trying to figure out if there's a financial advising firm that specializes in predicting the effects of political instability. I'm trying to figure out if we should try to pay of Rebecca's student loans faster or the mortgage faster if we need to mobilize or need cash on hand to pay bail for friends who are political activists. I'm trying to maximize the number of people who can stay in our house (or hide in our house) if the proposed Muslim registry happens and then turns into something more dangerous. I'm asking my wife to increase her disability insurance coverage so that we don't lose the house if she is incapacitated in a hate crime. I'm asking my family lawyer if we need to update any documents in case we end up hospitalized at a religious hospital that doesn't recognize our marriage and there's some form of "religious freedom" act passed that permits them to disregard my marriage certificate (yes, a bill like this already exists, and yes, Trump has said he would sign it).

Will all of these things happen? No, probably not. Do I know which ones will and won't? Of course not. No one really does. The outcome of this election was a surprise even to those who are far more educated on the subject than I am.

I've survived this far from a blend of privilege and preparing for the worst possible outcome I can imagine. I was lulled into  a sense of security when the economy was on an upswing and we'd mostly finished the major renovation and it looks like 80 hour weeks aren't going to kill my wife. I thought there wouldn't likely be another housing crash like the one in 2008. I thought it would get easier to be an out lesbian in a conservative state.

And I must confess: I'm at a loss. I don't know how to prepare for this many possible bad outcomes. Even with this amount of privilege.

So I haven't been writing. Maybe December will be better.

#fixerupperdetroit Presents: Table for 12+ (You're Invited)

We had our first Sunday potluck dinner at the house yesterday. About twelve people showed up - not too shabby for an event we threw together two days prior.  Guests came from so many backgrounds. So did the food (somehow all of it ended up being vegetarian, but the spread was lovely).

Our table was full.

My heart was too, for the first time since I heard the election results.

This is why we bought our house. To bring people together so that they can talk about what's on their minds, in their hearts, what's up in the news. We talked about assisted living, the Detroit land bank, cage-free eggs, cooking, gay adoption, and so much more. My kitten got lots of pets. I got lots of hugs.

We're doing it again this coming Sunday, and every Sunday that we're home. We're hoping it becomes a tradition and safe haven for those whose hearts are heavy.

You're invited, this Sunday, November 20th and the following Sunday, November 27th*. Bring a dish if you can. Message me for details.

*On Sunday, November 27th, we hope to put together Care Kits for those in need (I've also heard them called Blessing Bags - they contain hand warmers, snacks, and other basic supplies for those who could use some help). We'll need people to bring supplies, and then we'll assemble them after the potluck dinner. Keep an eye out for a sign-up list.

My Secret to Sanity in #owneroccupieDetroit: Meet Rufino and His Team

For almost the last year, I've been wanting to put up a post about Labra Design+Build, the business that has stood with us through #househuntersdetroit (even after the first house fell through), the land bank postering, and now, #owneroccupiedetroit.

Rebecca has known the owner, Rufino, since childhood and had been watching photos come through social media of all the beautiful work he'd been doing, so when we started looking for a home, she knew he would be a great fit.

You can visit their website to see Rufino Labra's portfolio or learn more about the work they do, so I won't spend too much time elaborating there.

Instead, let me tell you about

the ways that Rufino and his team have gone above and beyond 

 during the arduous #fixerupperdetroit process, to the point that I don't think we could have done this with any other team.

Most of Rufino's team, minus Rufino, who was on the phone. Top left: Abe. Bottom left: Eric. Top right: Marty. Bottom right: Big Rufino - Rufino's dad!

1. Showing up to the home inspections and asking thoughtful questions.

We were very blessed to work with a great home inspector, Matt Bezanson, (who now has a blog you can visit!), and that was an education in itself. Buying an old home, especially one in Detroit, especially one that's been vacant and neglected, comes with a lot more challenges than a newer construction. Rufino listened to what Matt had to say and considered it when setting up our construction proposal. We could tell that he would prioritize structural safety and quality work. That's of utmost importance in Detroit, where much of the previous work may have been patched poorly or done by non-professionals to save money.

2. Advising us on home-buying decisions 

A few days before closing, we still didn't know if the heating system worked, a major concern given that it was December in Michigan! While the seller insisted that it did, they never brought the house up to room temperature to prove it. When we brought out R&R Mechanical to inspect it, we were told that the boiler probably worked but there was no way to know without a cleaning, something we couldn't have done until we took possession, and something the seller refused to do. Rufino took the time to talk through the implications with me and help me decide whether closing was a good idea.

3. Reviewing documents from the Detroit Land Bank Authority

Most of you have already read about our horror story of having been postered with a notice threatening to seize our home.  You can read my Open Letter to Detroit Land Bank Authority here. These kinds of things don't happen in the suburbs, and I'm sure Rufino had never had to negotiate this kind of nightmare before. He looked over the documents and considered the timeline in the rehab agreement. In fact, I think he was more amenable to the terms than we were. I don't know how we would have survived those weeks without a contractor who cared on our side. We ultimately did get a resolution without a lawsuit being filed or signing the rehab agreement, mostly thanks to Craig Fahle, who does public relations for the land bank.

4. Setting up the home for us to occupy it and keeping us posted along the way.

Our construction team has a lot more to consider now that we're living in the home: will their work disrupt our normal activities? Will our cats escape while the team is going in and out? Will the fumes from their products jeopardize our health? In all cases, Rufino has made an effort to make it possible for us to live as normally as possible while not having a kitchen or laundry. By the time we moved in, we had a working bathroom, refrigerator, and laundry sink. When I asked him to set up the microwave, also, he did so promptly and in a space that was convenient for us (and inconvenient for his team).

5. Befriending our cats

Unlike us, the cats don't understand that the house is going to be really beautiful when it's done - and they don't really care. What they have noticed is that there are people they don't know here. All the time. Dorian has decided to supervise them all to make sure they do good work for us.

Dorian surveys his kingdom from a high vantage point.

Cesar has been hiding in our bed under the covers for entire days. Rufino has helped me figure out which rooms are safest for the cats while certain tasks are being completed and on more than one occasion has helped me secure them in that space when I couldn't do it alone and Rebecca was working. (Dorian has repaid him by getting incredibly underfoot.) Most members of the team have let the cats be out around the house as much as possible and will even chat with Dorian or pet him if he asks. I've never worked with a construction team before, but I'm pretty sure none of this is in the job description.

6. Visiting Architectural Salvage Warehouse of Detroit

 When we needed another radiator for the kitchen and I discovered a salvage warehouse rumored to have them for a reasonable price, Rufino met me there to see if we could find one and keep the heating budget lower to free up funds for something else. After some Googling about the different between water and steam radiators and sifting through the collection of doors, we emerged triumphant with not only a $90 radiator (that probably would have cost hundreds elsewhere), but a pocket door. We had hoped to find a 1920s lavatory sink to no avail, though the new one Rufino found and ordered is perfection.

In summary:

Many of you know that I'm a perfectionist workaholic, and that I'm not good at staying calm. While Rebecca has tried to keep me from being too anxious or overburdening Rufino, I recognize that this project has been fraught with challenges, including my temperament. Labra Design+Build has drastically exceeded our expectations not only in their quality of work, but in their encouraging, respectful nature and resourceful responses to issues problems. If you are considering a home renovation or new home construction, I hope that you will consider working with them. Detroit and the surrounding area need more small businesses that do such quality work, and we'd love to see the Labra family grow.

Confessions: Today I Hate this House

I'm grateful for #fixerupperdetroit. She's a beauty, or will be, when she's done. Our neighborhood is amazing, and I know that when our home is done, everything will seem better. We're making progress - we passed our insulation inspection, which means that a lot of new steps start, since we can close up the walls. The team working on our house has been positive, encouraging, and diligent.

But currently, #owneroccupieDetroit is a struggle.

I'm a hot breakfast person; I make huevos rancheros for myself every morning to get my day off to the right start. I can't do that until our kitchen is ready. It's not that I can't eat something else. I can, I do, and I'm grateful for the full belly. I didn't even realize how soothing I found the ritual of heating oil, frying a tortilla, cracking eggs, measuring salsa verde to be - a form of art, of creation, nourishment of my soul in addition to my body. I miss the process.

I'm not a great housekeeper. Many of you know. Many of you tease me. But even I find the plaster and paint dust overwhelming. My cats are constantly coated in dust. My clothes have dust clinging to them, my linens are filmed in particulates. It's hard to feel settled.

Of course, Rebecca has been working 6pm-7am shifts for the last week, and I'm always grumpy when we're ships passing in the night. A week more of that and she'll mostly be on day shift for the rest of the month. Between the progress we'll have made by then and the fact that we're actually seeing each other, I trust and believe that it won't stay like this. 

But today, I hate this house.

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.

Confessions: My Life Felt Temporary until #fixerupperdetroit

Temporary.

The places we stayed while Rebecca was in medical school were temporary.

Lansing Township. 21 months or so.

Wyandotte. 14 months.

Meridian Township. 10 months.

And then she finished med school, and we thought there would be a longer temporary. A semi-permanent. We thought Royal Oak might be it until she finished residency.

Less than a year later, we were looking for houses.

To make matters so much worse, after 16 months in Royal Oak we had the mold infestation that almost killed us, and we moved.

To Southgate. For five and a half months. The most temporary of places yet. We didn't unpack all the boxes. We're using a bedroom as storage/pantry. Most of my serving pieces are still packed. I ditched the full-size artificial Christmas tree because I couldn't handle moving it. I'm telling myself that's okay.

Because we really live in our Greenacres home, even if we're in transition now. And we'll be there indefinitely - at least until Rebecca is done with residency and loan forgiveness, which will be 2020. Probably a lot longer if the neighbors are any indication.

It's a reminder that this world is not my home. These apartments have not been home, not really, although we were happy in some of them. For those of us who follow Jesus, the earth is not our home. We are placed here for a time to share joy, offer comfort, bring what peace we can, but we cannot settle here permanently. We are to look for a time that the kingdom comes. We are to do God's work to bring the kingdom. It is our blessing to serve.

#fixerupperdetroit feels like a space where Rebecca and I can serve more, love deeply, and help, in a small way, to bring the kingdom.

I hope you will take that opportunity too.

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.

Mythbusters: #fixerupperdetroit edition

As most of you know by now, Rebecca and I closed on a fixer upper in Detroit about a week and a half ago. We've been doing the #househuntersdetroit journey since roundabout May, so it's been a long time coming.

During our voyage into homeownership, I've heard a lot of comments about Detroit - many wonderful, true, and encouraging. Some true and discouraging.

Some false, though. Some pretty serious misconceptions about the city have come up. And I'm not an expert, but I've grown up in the metro area, worked in the city on and off for several years now, spent the last seven months looking at homes in different neighborhoods, know and love many Detroiters, and have a somewhat captive audience (that's you, reader! even though I know you're not that captive - thanks for choosing to read on).

So here are some of the myths I've heard mentioned, explicitly or implicitly, during the last several months.

1. Detroit is a wasteland/slum/vacant.

I didn't realize how many people believe that no one really lives in Detroit anymore, or that the only people who live there have no choice, or that all the housing stock there is ruined and terrible. Driving through the city for even a short while will debunk this, so see myth #2.

2. Some areas of Detroit are good, but if you get lost and leave them, you are in trouble.

This is a popular one, in part because it sounds less prejudiced or more knowledgeable, I think. Many areas of Detroit are good. Many are okay but not great. Some are in bad shape, but here's something I want you to read out loud until you believe it:

People visit Detroit every day. Many of them get lost because the city is confusing to navigate. Everyone I know who has ever visited Detroit has gotten lost at some point. I don't know anyone who has been harmed. You probably don't either. You are unlikely to become the exception.

Certainly, some neighborhoods have problems. I'm not suggesting you seek them out and wander them at night alone announcing that you have a lot of cash on you. But readers, you know you probably wouldn't do that in any city. If you mind your own business and are polite, you will find more help than harm. Detroiters are some of the friendliest people in the world, as a general rule (it's true, ask anyone who's been).

3. The neighborhoods that are doing well are where the hipsters have moved in.

Yes, Midtown is at 100% occupancy with waiting lists. Yes, prices have risen in the New Center and Corktown and Downtown. Yes, a lot of hipsters live there.

But you know what other places are doing well? Indian Village. A lot of the Villages, really. Greenacres. University. Palmer. Sherwood. A host of others. You're hearing about the places the hipsters have moved to because it makes a better story - it's news. There are a lot of neighborhoods that maintained very high occupancy rates even during the Recession, though. There are a lot of people who chose to stay because they loved the city, have had their house for 15, 20, 40, 50 years, not because they can't leave but because they don't want to. It's not news that someone stayed in their house because they love it, but it's what has happened. Sure, the hipsters have filled up certain areas, but Detroit was never vacant, and there are great neighborhoods not inhabited primarily by college student hippie young professional art and tech types.

4. Buying property in Detroit right now is a good financial investment.

Honestly, no one knows if this is true. No one ever knows in real estate, but Detroit is a new situation. They had no natural disaster - they had a financial disaster instead. The city does appear to be coming back, but there are a lot of hidden costs to living there. For us, it doesn't make financial sense to move there, not really. We're doing it anyway because we love the neighborhood and are now blessed enough to be able to make decisions not completely based on finances. It's looking like our house may appreciate in value. If it doesn't, as long as we are able to pay it off, we'll be okay. Buying property in the city is definitely not for the faint of heart, and it's not easy money at all. Holding costs and taxes are higher. I'm not telling you not to buy. I bought a house. But the financial payoff isn't guaranteed. Not everywhere in the city is a "hot" market. Neighborhoods aren't casinos. Gambling like they are has consequences. And some of the best places just aren't going to be a good investment because the prices are already much higher and/or the homes don't need flipping.

5. Houses in Detroit all cost $1000 (or $500 or $5000, or some other small number).

Yes, there was a time during the housing crisis when you could calculate the average home price to be under $10,000 if you managed the data a certain way. Yes, there are programs where houses are auctioned starting at small amounts. Like I said, there are a lot of hidden costs - often, the back taxes, very significant renovations, back utility bills, etc. Not all houses are essentially "free" as I've heard some people implicitly believe. Even on a two income salary with one of them a physician's salary (albeit lower for now because my helpmate is a resident) there are a LOT of homes out of our price range. And with the economy improving, you're not going to snap up that move-in ready 5,000 square foot Tudor for $10,000. In a lot of neighborhoods, homes are going for over the listing price.

6. Everyone in Detroit is poor.

I realized people believe this when someone indirectly suggested that people in our new neighborhood make under $15,000 a year. This seems to accompany a lot of the other myths - that people would move out of the city if they could, or at least out of any neighborhood that the hipsters aren't currently living in. Many Detroiters are living in poverty, it's true. Unemployment is unacceptably high, especially for certain populations. Underemployment and stagnant low wages are also deeply problematic. We need to do more to get people employed in good, stable jobs. But many Detroiters are middle and upper class. After all, someone must be living in the homes Rebecca and I can't afford.

7. The schools in Detroit are terrible.

Many are. Yes. I won't deny that. I have worked in several. The school district has many issues. But some of the schools - Renaissance, FLICS, Cass, DSA - produce very talented graduates. A blanket statement that there are no good public schools in Detroit is wrong.

8. Detroit is so much better now that it has Meijer and Whole Foods.

Detroit did and does have food desert areas. The places that these stores have gone in weren't really among them. And the concern that these large chains will put smaller, family-owned stores out of business is not misplaced.

9. You'll leave once you have kids.

If we are blessed to add children to our family, we will talk about it then. It's obviously complicated. But many families do live in the city with children, navigate the school system, and make it work. The type of people that choose to stay in the city or choose to move there are used to facing challenges.

10. You need to do specific things to "flip" your home so that it will have value/attract the "right" buyer.

I've heard a lot of opinions about what kind of floors, counters, backsplash, appliances we should put in. Most are based on current HGTV shows. We aren't flipping this home. This isn't Rehab Addict or one of the other HGTV shows based on real estate investment. We intend to live in this home for a significant amount of time. Trends perceived to be "timeless" now will undoubtedly look dated. Our plan is to put in things we like and deal with selling the home in due time. It's not an investment property, we're not looking to turn it over quickly - it's our home. And the idea of the "right" buyer is fraught with classist and racist undertones. Also, I repeat, neighborhoods are not casinos. We're not gambling here. I have a job. Rebecca has a job. Our income is not based on turning over this property. There's nothing inherently bad about doing that, provided it's done ethically, but it isn't our goal.

In conclusion: I know you didn't all believe all of these. Many of you didn't believe any or most. But these myths come from statements people have made, based on assumptions that some people seem to take as fact. I encourage you, if you haven't and can do so, to visit the city. Not just to attend a sporting event or visit a museum. Take a stroll through one of the neighborhoods. Meet people. You might be surprised.

#fixerupperdetroit struggle continues: We meet Detroit Water and Sewertroubles

I'm hoping this problem resolves itself. Quickly.

But given that it involves the Detroit Water and Sewer Department, those of you who know about that department understand my concern.

Our first bill has a credit on it from when I had the water turned on, so it said we owed less than our usage for the first month.

I paid what we owe. On time.

But the account reads like I should pay the amount that the credit is too.

Since I'm recovering from bronchitis, calling or going in person isn't an option, so I sent an email. Our bill is due today.

I hope our water doesn't get turned off while we're getting this sorted.

Not Ruin Porn: #fixerupperdetroit photos in the middle

For those of you who haven't heard the phrase "ruin porn," let me educate you:

The term is used to refer to photos taken, especially in Detroit and other Rust Belt cities, that emphasize the decay and decadence of formerly beautiful structures. Michigan Central Station is sort of the quintessential ruin porn subject because it was so, so grand to begin with - enormous, elegant, luxurious - and then became abandoned, scrapped, vacant (click the link to see a Google image search to prove my point).

The original intention of this post, from months ago when we were still in the #househuntersdetroit phase, was to show you how photographers create that haunting, tragic ruin porn feel. I don't know if there's still money in setting up these types of images. I hope that part of the Detroit story is played out - although if someone wants to do a series on the tragedy that is Detroit Public Schools and the non-vacant ruins children still learn in, in order to promote and finance improvements, have at it.

Overall, though, ruin porn doesn't tell the whole story of the city, isn't empowering to residents, and in some ways, appeals to the worst of human nature: the twisted satisfaction from seeing what was once beautiful now broken, corrupted, destroyed.

So I thought that I was going to have a photographer friend take a few examples of #fixerupperdetroit and set them to look like ruin porn to prove a point. I figured that after demolition and before renovation would be the best time. How hard could it be to get the bones of my house to look sad?

My friend Nick Fenton met me at the house recently to take a series of photographs. I explained what I was trying to do, and he's been following the story for a while. I told him about our plans for each room and our goal for the home overall.

I picked the wrong photographer for this project.

Not because the photos aren't amazing.

They are.

But because Nick got the story too well. He was able to see the potential, the resolution of the story. He, like me, doesn't see the house as ruined. And his art reflects the story that we see in this house.

Sure, she's in a rough spot right now, as you can see here:

Kitchen - only the bones left (and not even some of those) - she's down to the subfloor, the shiplap, the studs, and a little insulation.

A view of the kitchen from the dining room. The view through this cutout sets up a juxtaposition, since we're doing very little to the dining room right now even though the kitchen is a total rehab.

The flip side of that juxtaposition. You can see how little we've done to the dining room compared to the kitchen.

The stairs are likely getting new floor and a new banister, and you can maybe see in the very corner where a new lavatory will go, but again, look how much of the living room will stay as-is.

Here you can see the stairs, stripped down to the original hardwood (now cracked and splintered in a few spots), next to the demolition in the kitchen and the spot we've prepped for the new lavatory.

I love the perspective on this one. Here you're looking through the space we've demo'ed in preparation for the lavatory. The hallway is in rough shape right now, but you still catch a glimpse of our gorgeous bay window and high living room ceiling.

This is the boiler room in our basement. The boiler has been replaced, and new boilers are much more efficient and therefore smaller, so the room is awkward and a little creepy - but I defy you to find a basement utility room that isn't a little scary. We'll be fixing a lot of the hookups in here, and some parts of the heating system have been repaired since about a week after we purchased.

Even in the photos that show the worst conditions, I can't see anything but potential. I don't get that haunting, sad, frightened feeling that certain images of the train station or old theaters give. I can't imagine any amount of editing will evoke that. Maybe that's because I love #fixerupperdetroit so much and am still so deeply grateful to have been able to purchase a home this wonderful. Maybe I'm an eternal optimist.

And then there are the other photos. The ones that would never be ruin porn, because there's absolutely nothing ruined in them. Have a look:

This is a family room/study in the basement. We're pretty sure that fireplace is hooked up for gas, and the built-ins are in solid shape. A new valve on the ceiling radiator, and all this room needs is a deep clean, lamps, and lounge furniture.

This will be Rebecca's study when the home is finished. Some of the doors need a little work, and a few panes of glass must be replaced, but the room doesn't need a true rehab.

This is the upstairs full bath. It's been redone since the house was built, so it isn't original. Someday, I'd like to restore it to a more late 1920s feel. But it needs only minor cosmetic and plumbing work for the most part (except that a new sewer line will have to be run, since the sewer lines hadn't been replaced since 1928, and it's time).

This is the attic. It needs insulation and probably new windows, but again, it's a great space with only some minor work. When it's done, it will be a guest bedroom and small office area designed to hold a couple and a small child. My mother-in-law is taking the lead on decorating this space - stay tuned.

Remember how I said we're not doing anything major to the dining room? Or Rebecca's study? This gives you a sense of how much of the ground floor will be staying more or less as-is. (Photograph taken standing in the living room and looking through to Rebecca's bay window.)

This photograph is taken standing in Rebecca's office and looking through the dining room toward the living room bay window. Notice the pile of boards on the floor on the right side? That's trim that Rebecca managed to save during demolition, so that we can add back some of the original elements once we near the end of the renovation. Also, yes, a snow shovel! We had to buy one to clear the sidewalk. Since we've always rented before, we never needed one. Also great for picking up tiny chunks of plaster from the floor . . .

We're not in the beginning of this story, when the house was new and Detroit was booming. If this house could talk, I have a feeling she'd tell you that she belongs to the Club to Whom the Unimaginable is Now Imaginable - she's been through a lot.

But she's not done. She's not ruined. She was waiting for her story to pick up again. These photos prove that she's in the middle of the story and doesn't know her ending yet.

That reminds me: I'm not ruined either.

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?

We shouldn't have demo'ed #fixerupperdetroit ourselves: Here's why

When we were getting inspections done on #fixerupperdetroit, the inspector was very explicit that no women of childbearing age (which is different from women who are actually pregnant- this group includes women who may ever become pregnant) should help with demolition unless we took a lot of precautions.

Here's why:

Far from being isolated to Flint water pipes, lead was used in paint until the late 1970s. Our home was built in 1928 and has been remodeled multiple times, so it is virtually guaranteed that some of the paint that we'd be smashing through contained lead. That lead becomes airborne and people inhale it. For average adults with a reasonable diet, the amount is typically not overly harmful- it gets bound in the bones and never leaves.

Unless said adult becomes pregnant. Then the lead often escapes and circulates. And an amount of lead that doesn't harm an adult can have drastic effects on an unborn child.

Rebecca and I are of childbearing age and haven't decided how to have our future family yet. 

So I found myself standing in an aisle at Lowe's looking at dust masks and respirators. When I asked for help, the saleswoman told me that we shouldn't do this demolition ourselves. 

I told her I was aware of the risks, couldn't afford to pay someone, and was looking for protection. She unhelpfully started picking up boxes and reading descriptions. (I know how to read.) I ended up ordering a respirator online and buying safety glasses elsewhere.

I also took calcium supplements over the last couple weeks to try to lessen the impact of any residual lead. We haven't had our water tested yet, but it is very possible that, like Flint,  we also have lead water pipes coming into our house from the street. The question is mostly if they're leaching. We can afford to have drinking water delivery in five gallon jugs or get a whole house filter, but not everyone can.

If you're curious, though, about the high cost and slow going to demolish burnt out houses in Detroit, here's the truth:

A lot of these houses are coated in lead paint, or asbestos, or other hazards. Living in them is unsafe, but many do because they have no choice.

Demolishing them without sending up a dust cloud of environmental hazards that spreads to the rest of the neighborhood takes time, money, and training. Drinking water laced with lead and living in homes with lead paint has caused a silent epidemic of learning disabilities and behavior problems for Detroit's children.

Flint is justifiably in the news. They are suffering deeply for the decisions of politicians, and something needs to be done. Their plight made me hyper aware of the hazards in my own house, more than an hour away, though. I'm concerned that in all the media hype of sending bottled water to Flint, the public is forgetting that this isn't an isolated problem. It isn't one that can be solved in a few weeks from a couple truckloads of water. 

It's a problem that spans the entire state, especially the older urban centers, especially the areas of poverty. The danger comes not only from the water, but from paint and soil also. 

To fix it, we don't need more finger pointing or respirators or bottled water. We need an investment in community, in infrastructure, in our children. 

We need a common sense, comprehensive, moderate, sustainable plan to protect our children instead of using them as the canary in the coal mine.

Reflections on Landbank Seizure: After a Deep Breath

In the last few days, my Open Letter to the Detroit Land Bank has gotten almost 400 views. That's hardly breaking the internet. On the other hand, it's a lot of attention that the land bank didn't have before, and judging by the diverse nature of my friends, the post has probably reached the eyes of people that had never heard of the Detroit Land Bank Authority.

And here's my concern: my post about the resolution of our situation hasn't been read that many times.

In the midst of the fear and chaos surrounding #fixerupperdetroit and the seizure notice and my justifiable haste to resolve the situation, I didn't provide as much background as I should have. Of course, you can Google the land bank, read their website, like them on facebook, etc. So this isn't intended to be exhaustive. But here are some things I have put together for you to help you understand:

Detroit is roughly 137 square miles. You could fit Manhattan, San Francisco, and Boston within Detroit city limits. It's huge.

The city is designed to be occupied by two million people or thereabouts, primarily in single-family homes, and at its peak probably had about 1.5 million Detroiters.

It's now occupied by about 700,000.

That population drop wasn't caused by a natural disaster or a war or an epidemic, at least not a standard version of any of those things. It was caused by a confluence of factors. I recommend picking up The Origins of the Urban Crisis to learn more, or digging into Detroit's history.

In any case, the city has far more space, far more homes, than it has people to live in it. And in the housing crisis, some awful people bought up a lot of property in a land grab that resulted in gambling on Detroit neighborhoods.

[This is where the notion of urban farming in Detroit comes from - farms could fill in many of the areas that are short on people, short on groceries, and long on available space. In the most simplistic version of this, the city somehow convinces everyone to move out of certain neighborhoods and into others, rezones the empty areas for farms, and makes a bunch of money while watching food deserts disappear.]

Enter the land bank.

With so much vacant housing stock, such low housing prices (though the $500 house is a myth, and here's why we didn't buy one), rampant real estate speculation, and no instruction manual, the city and county started land banks to try to get houses occupied.

The programs have varied. As the economy improves and prices rise, they've been able to flip some homes and sell them as move-in ready, and auction other homes as fixer-uppers (some total gut jobs and others more manageable). Mayor Duggan wanted to make sure President Obama saw the progress. I know a couple people that work there, and they are well-intentioned, hopeful individuals.

Unfortunately, with the mess Detroit's in, the amount of bureaucracy, and the state of democracy (or non-democracy) in the city, the land bank, like much else, doesn't work as well as it could. In the middle of our mess, I heard from friends of friends about their own struggles.

Once our situation worked out, a few of those struggling seemed to hope that there is a secret to negotiating with the land bank, that I know the magical thing to say or do. I wish I did. A little part of me wishes that we'd let them file a lawsuit so that we could have drawn even more attention to the issues.

In our case, it's possible that our home was never supposed to be targeted, and so notifying them of the discrepancy was all that was necessary - I still don't have the straight story on why exactly we received a seizure notice or why the city would have the right to seize our property when we're not behind on taxes or utilities.

It's also possible that the amount of attention from my posts on this blog and social media raised our profile enough that #fixerupperdetroit was removed from the possible seizure list using less than standard procedure.

In either case, there seems to be one key: make the house look as occupied and maintained as possible. Since some of the seizure notices result from neighborhood drive-through monitoring, and others result from complaints from the neighbors, the best bet to avoid or fight a seizure notice seems to be evidence that the home isn't vacant. Given the age of the housing stock, the economic realities of the city, and the arbitrary nature of some of this, that isn't always possible, and a perfectly manicured lawn leading up to a perfect picket fence shouldn't be required for people to keep their homes.

But that seems to be the number one visual distinction between an owner holding a vacant home as a gamble and an actual city resident, or someone truly investing.

In short, the land bank exists for a reason, and like almost everything in life, it isn't perfect. I hope that it will see the reforms it needs very, very soon. I hope that all of the other homeowners who have been unfairly targeted see a resolution soon.

And in the long run, I hope Detroit returns to being a place where many, many people fulfill dreams of homeownership.

Open Letter to Detroit Land Bank Authority

Dear Detroit Land Bank Authority,

(Back story for this post can be found here: Land Bank, Red Tape, MI Hate, #Fixerupperdetroit Googles Squatters Rights,   and Why Detroit Can't Have Nice Things.)

I saw my wife for 20 minutes today. I drove home between shifts to see her because I didn't think I could wait to discuss this with her. I woke her from sleep because she is currently working nights as a family med resident saving lives at Henry Ford. She is also helping to organize medical care for homeless people in Royal Oak.

And she is trying to get #fixerupperdetroit ready to live in.

Of the 20 minutes I saw her today, I think we were either yelling or crying for about 17 of them. She is overwhelmed and doesn't know how she is going to keep on for another week and a half of night shifts. This is what your seizure notice has done to my wife, my beloved wife who does everything for everyone else, who persisted in buying a home in desperate need of repair from a seller who couldn't care less about the house or the neighborhood.

We spent 68 days trying to close to get this property away from the seller. Then we spent weeks setting up demolition, hiring someone to do landscaping, meeting the neighbors, and uncovering antiquated sewer lines, electrical dangers, plumbing leaks, and fiberglass insulation.

I'm sorry that the neighbors complained that the house was a nuisance before we bought it, or that your crew driving by noticed it looked vacant, or whatever caused you to post the sign, since you don't seem to have the story straight, but it turns out it takes time to turn around a 1928 home.

We're working at it. We have to - our mortgage requires it. Our current living situation requires it.

There are so many owners who aren't working at it. The person who owned our house before us (and who, rumor has it, owns multiple other properties). The person who still owns the house we spent the summer trying to buy. You'd be better off going after them. You claim, in fact, that you are going after them. In that case, why is a friend still fighting to execute a purchase agreement on a Parkside home, a house that has been vacant without climate control for multiple winters now? In that case, why didn't you seize our Greenacres property when our seller had it? The house was featured on Curbed in October 2014 and had been vacant the whole time. Why not go after the negligent landlords? You've got 99 problems, and we ain't one.

My dear wife cannot bear the thought of signing an agreement that would in any way allow you to take our home. After the fight we've had to buy it, signing any paperwork that would create even the tiniest possibility that we will not keep it is untenable to her. And I don't blame her. We've seen a lot of examples of government and corporate overreach in Michigan lately. We've been the victims of unfair housing laws already. She's not irrational for believing that you really might take our home.

I'm hoping that this is a misunderstanding, and that if I keep explaining to you, you will understand that we are not the enemy, we are not negligent, and we also are camels whose backs can't take another straw.

Every minute we spend fighting with you, every dollar we spend on legal fees is a minute and a dollar that isn't spent actually fixing up the property. Your actions are counterproductive. You are wasting your own resources and my resources, and I will not be silent.

So shame on you. Shame on you for terrifying my gentle wife who is already sleep deprived and overwhelmed. Shame on you for going after easy targets like us, who are law abiding, instead of focusing on the real problem. Shame on you for prioritizing certain neighborhoods over others.

Regards,

Committing in the Mitten

Detroit, MLK, & Rosie the Riveter

Continuing #demoday necessitated channeling Rosie.

Demolition is starting to wear on me, though I love visiting our house everyday and feeling that we're making progress. There are a LOT of nails in the kitchen floor that make taking up the original hardwood (which is beneath tile and leveling cement) difficult and also impede shoveling the debris.

I never thought I could hate an inanimate object as much as I hate plaster. Unlike drywall, which mostly comes down in large pieces, plaster comes down in small chunks, or worse, dust, and has to be shoveled up and then swept up. 

So I'm reminding myself that I can do this. Today, that resulted in the above picture - living the Rosie the Riveter narrative that I, as a woman, can complete physical labor that was traditionally men's work. Rosie was actually from metro Detroit - Ypsilanti, I think. 

You know what else happened in Detroit? MLK's first rendition of the "I Have a Dream" speech.

Which is sort of a juxtaposition, particularly now, when DPS school children face such harsh learning conditions, in part because they live in a city where the majority of students have a certain color of their skin. A city where many, many of the people with the same color skin are unemployed, underemployed, or employed in jobs with such low wages and such poor working conditions as to be comparable in many ways to sharecropping. These jobs result in many living in the poverty so rightfully condemned by MLK as a result of discrimination. MLK called the US out for defaulting on its promise that all citizens had the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Detroit is in default. Michigan is in default. 

As I stood today in my kitchen, my second kitchen, because I also have an apartment while I gut the #fixerupperdetroit kitchen, I was, and always am, profoundly aware of the privilege of purchasing a home. I am so deeply grateful, but I wish all Detroiters, all Michiganders, could experience homeownership, could have jobs with enough dignity and wages to afford a home. 

I wish all of my students believed that "we can do it!" I wish they all had hope in MLK's dream. Many do. But some see the default, the discrimination, the poverty, and it feels insurmountable to them, and I don't blame them. 

We have not followed through on MLK's demands (yes, they were demands, and he was a radical). We have not fulfilled the goals of the African American civil rights movement. 

We still can, and we must. We must, for today's children. They deserve so much better than what they're getting.

DPS Sickout, CPS, and "If You See Something, Say Something"

Teachers are mandatory reporters. That means that when they receive their teaching certificate, it mandates that if they see signs of child abuse, they must start the chain to notify child protective services.

Essentially, every day at work, DPS teachers are staring down conditions that are tantamount to child abuse. Unsafe drinking water. Lack of sanitation. Inedible food. Falling ceiling tiles. No heat on cold winter days.

Here's the thing about mandatory reporting. Teachers aren't required to mention something to someone and then go about their business. They're required to make sure the report goes through and an investigation is properly handled. They don't do the investigation - that's the job of the social workers and other staff at child protective services. They don't remove the children from the situation. But they take action.

In this case, the investigation was mishandled, or didn't happen. Previous emergency financial managers knew about these conditions. I know they knew, because Robert Bobb visited the school I worked at while we had no custodial staff and only half the bathrooms worked - in 2009. He knew, and he did nothing to improve conditions. The rest of them must have known too. And they did nothing.

It isn't the job of the teachers to glue ceiling tiles back to the ceiling. It isn't their job to fix the plumbing or the boiler. But it is their job to report until an investigation is taken seriously. It is their job to protect their students.

If the administration didn't act, and it was illegal to strike, what choice did teachers have but to call in sick until something got done? Who was going to speak out for the children? Should teachers have called CPS on behalf of every single child until CPS had to pull every child from school?

CPS doesn't have the resources to do that. Nor should the conditions at schools be tantamount to child abuse or neglect.