The Week That
Was
4/26 – 5/2/2015
The
week was very out of the ordinary. By
the end, I was somewhat stunned. Though
each item is a story in itself, here are mainly the headlines.
·
I
went to see a friend’s play Old Flame
which is at the Theatre for the New City.
I went alone. Sat two rows behind
my friend who wrote the play and watched him enjoy the production as well.
·
Crossed
the street and tried a place I hadn’t been to before – Night Owl. Bartender knew how to make a Long Island Ice
Tea.
·
Went
to see my friend at her community garden on 6th St. In the middle of her doing garden business,
she and I spoke about a heartbreaking situation of mine, I cried, we hugged,
and then she was going off with her husband, and I headed west.
·
On
Second Avenue, a church choir was belting it out from inside the Middle
Collegiate Church. The gloriousness
stopped me, and I went back across the street to the church’s open doors,
entered, and stayed for the sermon. I
don’t attend churches, synagogues, mosques, or any of that. So this was truly out of the ordinary. The minister spoke on the fig leaf and how
God knows who you are with or without the fig leaf. Though it isn’t news to me, it was nice to
know there are more people who think your truth is what matters.
·
I
wanted to get to a comedy open mic but wasn’t feeling very funny. I had cried throughout most of the time in the
church. I decided to stop at a store and
play two games of Take 5. I figured
since things were unusual, maybe I’d win something.
·
Went
to the open mic but just to be audience and get back in the atmosphere. Enjoyed it mainly.
·
On
Monday, I had to take time off from work to wait for a tile man to re-tile my
bathroom wall from a pipe replacement that took place weeks before. I was so exhausted that I could barely stay
awake while they were here. At some
point, I woke from the couch, they were gone, and my door was not locked. That scared me. I don’t live with my door unlocked. Ever. I
was alone and asleep. Bad. Scared the shit out of myself. Thank God, all was fine. I even have a nice part of a bathroom wall.
·
Found
out my Take 5 ticket won a free game.
Haven’t played it yet.
·
My
buddy came over to help me get certain things done. I needed his moral support. I wrote to a relative who I have been thinking
of a lot and whose husband died a few months ago. Family relations are strained from many years
back, so it is very anxiety-producing.
Doing it felt much better than not doing it. I even sent her a copy of this where a thin
slice of memoir is included.
·
Tuesday
was a broke day for me as it is the day before payday. I know how to live on very low funds, so I
was managing. I was on a break from my class,
stepped off the college campus to smoke a cigarette, and ran into a former
student who was a favorite. We spoke
about how he’s doing in his more advanced classes, he gave me credit for providing
a good start, and when saying goodbye, he put a paper in my hand and told me to
use it at the cafeteria. I figured he
gave me a dollar for coffee. When I
looked, it was $20. He was gone.
·
Ran
into a former math student later. She
shared that her new class (the highest level) was going well. Her teacher asked her how she knew what to do
with the fraction part of the equation, and she said, “I came from Mindy’s
class. She’s the best.” That felt great.
Her new teacher used to be my boss.
·
Tuesday
night, I found someone’s health benefits card lying in the street. I picked it up to mail to whatever address I
could find on it. It’s not that I don’t
have plenty to do, but this is something I’d hope someone would do for me, so
it’s that Golden Rule thingy.
·
My
buddy did me the favor of driving me to my bank to deposit a check that I needed
in there to cover other checks. It was
late (on the night of a day I work both of my jobs), and I was grateful to not
have to be waiting for buses. When we
returned, we sat in his car in front of my building for at least 15 minutes
talking about many things. This resulted
in the police driving the wrong way on the Grand Concourse in an unmarked car right
to us but without crashing and then alongside of us and then turned around and
drove up behind us, got out, demanded ID, answers to questions, my friend was
frisked (lightly), we were both made to get out, a search of the car without
probable cause took place, they were shocked to learn I live there, my job ID is
from a college and says ‘Faculty’ which we were sure helped. When they first came to the car demanding all
kinds of answers, it occurred to me they could be all fired up by the Baltimore
riots/protests. I,
ever-so-whitely-and-politely, asked if we had done anything wrong. The officer was taken by surprise and didn’t
even try to veil that he was manufacturing a lie in front of our faces. It was almost the end of the month, so I
figured they were desperate to fill the quota they don’t have. I was worried at how far they’d go to meet
the demand. Fortunately, they didn’t
plant anything in the car. I am so lucky that the police weren’t totally
criminal. My friend and I were both
keenly aware that, as much as it was still wrong (zero probable cause), we were
given the poor-white treatment (at least after they saw my ID). We parted uninjured, unframed, alive, disrespected, with
our rights trampled.
·
Wednesday
during the break from class, students informed me they saw bedbugs on the back
of the jacket of another student. Oy oy oy.
·
After
class, there was a math teachers’ meeting where we were to solve complicated
problems and talk about it. I solved and
fell asleep, solved, discussed how I solved, and fell asleep again. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. After the police incident the night before, I
was up very late at home.
·
After
the meeting, I was supposed to prepare some poems to be in an assembly book
that evening at a workshop I attend as regularly as I can. I never got the poems selected, typed, and copied. I didn’t go to the workshop to collate and
staple. I was zonked. And it was only Wednesday.
·
Received
an email (I haven’t opened) from a man my friends used to refer to as the chloroform guy. He’s a photographer I once was going to have
a session with, but he sounded too weird after a while, so I stopped talking to
him. It’s been a few years, and now he
wrote again. Maybe he thought I was
having a boring week.
·
That
night in my borough, 4 people were shot, and 3
stabbed in 5 separate reported incidents within 6 hours. You’d think there’s enough real crime to get
those quotas filled without bothering innocent people.
·
On
Thursday, I feared I cooperated with a scam.
I’m usually alert to offers that sound too good, etc., but this time I
was functioning with less wisdom. I
couldn’t help but wonder if there was a connection between feeling disempowered
by the police and not being on top of things on a scammy phonecall.
·
On
Friday, outside my classroom window which faces a big ball field, the US
Marines were landing five helicopters.
We had no idea what was going on.
Students were using phone cameras, and I surrendered. The marines ended my class early that day. We later learned they were preparing for how
they were going to get President Obama there on the following Monday.
·
Saturday
I headed to the Cannabis Parade for my first time though it has been going on
annually for 17 years. I think Bronx residents
need to know that many people from all walks of life not only use cannabis but
work to change the laws, to get weed to cancer patients and to veterans, to be
a presence when possible for those still fighting legal battles, etc. I learned that there’s an international
organization called L.E.A.P. (Law Enforcement Against Prohibition) which
includes district attorneys, judges, police officers, etc. That was uplifting.
·
We marched from 32nd Street to Union Square Park
where the rally took place all afternoon.
The assistant publisher/editor of High
Times was the main host on stage.
There was support shown by some politicians. Speeches emphasized that the supposed war on drugs
is actually a war on the youth, the poor, the sick, and people of color.
·
I joined a friend for dinner at a bookstore I’d
never been to before, Revolutionary Books.
Treated myself to a book -- a play by Eve Ensler, “Necessary Targets.”
