Anderson@Large

I Can’t Stop Loving You

Forty years ago today, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his speech, “Beyond Vietnam: Time to Break the Silence,” at the Riverside Church in New York City.

An excerpt:

At this point I should make it clear that while I have tried in these last few minutes to give a voice to the voiceless on Vietnam and to understand the arguments of those who are called enemy, I am as deeply concerned about our troops there as anything else. For it occurs to me that what we are submitting them to in Vietnam is not simply the brutalizing process that goes on in any war where armies face each other and seek to destroy. We are adding cynicism to the process of death, for they must know after a short period there that none of the things we claim to be fighting for are really involved. Before long they must know that their government has sent them into a struggle among Vietnamese, and the more sophisticated surely realize that we are on the side of the wealthy and the secure while we create hell for the poor.

Somehow this madness must cease. We must stop now. I speak as a child of God and brother to the suffering poor of Vietnam. I speak for those whose land is being laid waste, whose homes are being destroyed, whose culture is being subverted. I speak for the poor of America who are paying the double price of smashed hopes at home and death and corruption in Vietnam. I speak as a citizen of the world, for the world as it stands aghast at the path we have taken. I speak as an American to the leaders of my own nation. The great initiative in this war is ours. The initiative to stop it must be ours.

Dr. King’s call to the “strange liberators” to cease the madness resonates today as the American occupation wreaks havoc in Iraq.

Exactly one year after breaking his silence, Dr. King was gunned down at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis.

Later this year, I will make my first-ever visit to the former Lorraine Motel, which has since been transformed into the National Civil Rights Museum.

In the meantime, I’m going to remember Dr. King by attending a performance of “I Can’t Stop Lovin’ You,” a tribute to Ray Charles who showed the Prince of Peace much love.

You can show your love by helping to build the national memorial to Dr. King.

For more info, click here.

Slaves to the Past

I’m not one to look back but I have a lifelong interest in slavery. To celebrate my birthday in October, I plan to visit the “Inhuman Traffic: The Business of the Slave Trade” exhibition at the British Museum and the International Slavery Museum, both of which will open later this year.

So, I listened with keen interest as British Prime Minister Tony Blair expressed “deep sorrow and regret for our nation’s role in the slave trade and for the unbearable suffering, individually and collectively, it caused.”

Blair’s video message was played at Ghana’s Elmina Castle to mark the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the transatlantic slave trade.

Several years ago, I took a jitney from Abidjan to the slave castles along the Atlantic coast of Ghana.  And I have to tell you, the House of Slaves on Gorée Island is a quaint B&B compared to Ghana’s slave castles, where captured Africans were warehoused until forced onto slave ships for the perilous journey across the Middle Passage.

The calls for a formal apology are echoing on both sides of the Atlantic. As my friend Jonathan Tilove reports, Rep. Steve Cohen has introduced a resolution “apologizing for the enslavement and racial segregation of African-Americans.”

Jonathan writes:

Cohen says a formal apology by the U.S. government would be a healing act that could generate a revealing examination of slavery’s central role in the making of America and of its legacy for black Americans.

In Georgia, state Rep. Al Williams and other black state legislators are seeking an apology for Georgia’s role in slavery. This bipartisan effort is supported by Senate President Pro Tem Eric Johnson and Lt. Gov. Casey Cagle.

At the same time, a bill declaring April as “Confederate History and Heritage Month” is making its way through the Georgia Senate.

Clearly, the “past is not dead. In fact, it’s not even past.”

Spring Break

In the spring a young young-at-heart man’s woman’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love long urban walks.

So, I’m taking a hike. I’ll talk with you when I get back.

Hip Hop on a Rolle

It's hard to believe that today marks the tenth anniversary of the death of the Notorious B.I.G.

While I'm no hip-hop head, I love Biggie Small, whose presence still looms large in his hometown, where he peers down at you from a billboard above the Fulton Street Mall.

I thought about Biggie as I watched "Word.Life: The Hip Hop Project," a documentary about a group of young rappers and their mentor, Chris "Kharma Kazi" Rolle.

The film is uplifting and inspiring.  It gives one hope that some of the kids are alright.

The film will be in theaters in May.  For more info, click here.

An Unsung Heroine

Nearly fifty years ago, nine black students braved angry white mobs and integrated Little Rock Central High School in Arkansas.

This seminal event in the civil rights movement will be commemorated on Sept. 25.

The Little Rock Nine were organized by Daisy Bates (and here), a black woman who challenged Arkansas Gov. Orval Faubus and President Dwight Eisenhower.

Her story is finally being told in the documentary, “In the Shadow of Little Rock: The Life of Daisy Bates.” The filmmaker, Sharon LaCruise, recently screened the trailer at the Brooklyn Public Library.

It’s fitting this work-in-progress was previewed during Women’s History Month.  As LaCruise observed, Bates was “a crusader for justice at a time when women were supposed to know their place.”

The film will air on PBS in conjunction with the 50th anniversary celebrations.  Stay tuned.

Missing New Orleans

Mardi Gras revelers have gone home. The beads and empty cups have been swept off Bourbon Street.

But for the tens of thousands of Katrina survivors still living in FEMA trailers, the estimated 53,000 students who have "disappeared" from the Louisiana public school system and the public housing residents who have been barred from returning to habitable units, the party has been over for 543 days.

Amazing Grace Sunday

On Sunday, churches worldwide will join as one and sing Amazing Grace, which was written by John Newton, an English slave trader.

A song of freedom and redemption, the event will commemorate the 200th anniversary of the abolition of the slave trade in the British Empire.

Organizers also hope to ratchet up the campaign to abolish modern day slavery in which an estimated 27 million are enslaved.

And don’t scoff at the notion of slavery in the 21st century. I remember when I lived in Senegal and was curious about some black people I saw on a beach. You can imagine my horror when I was told they were slaves from neighboring Mauritania (and here).

For more info, click here.

Barclays to Bklyn: Fudgetaboutit

Last month, real estate developer Bruce Ratner got the go-ahead to plop down a supersized project in the heart of Brooklyn.

The development will include a new arena for the New Jersey Nets whose owners include Jay-Z.

After reportedly forking over $400 million to the appropriately named Ratner, the arena will be named Barclays Center, after, get this, one of the banks that financed the slave trade.

The Brooklyn Paper reports:

The future home for the Brooklyn Nets will be emblazoned with the corporate logo of a British bank that was founded on the slave trade, collaborated with the Nazis and did business with South Africa’s apartheid government.

Barclays will cast a net for customers who, like Virginia Del. Frank D. Hargrove Sr., think “black citizens should get over” slavery.

But it’s a different ballgame in Brooklyn:

That an old, established, global bank has some skeletons in its closet should not surprise anyone. But the particular nature of Barclays’ skeletons should have given Ratner pause.

Those who downplay the significance of having the Barclays name atop a publicly subsidized arena that African-Americans will walk past every day — and where African-Americans will earn their living, both on the court and in the concessions stands — should put themselves in the shoes of the descendants of the slaves that Barclays family members once traded as property.

Naming an arena after a slave-trading family is a slap in the face, akin to a developer building an arena in Borough Park — with its high population of Holocaust survivors — and naming it “Volkswagen Field.”

And we know that would never happen.

Jay-Z and his partners must think Barclays is “irreplaceable.”

Providence

I spent a couple of days in Providence last week.  From the Christmas tree at City Hall to the Bank of America Skating Center, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas in the little city that could.

While there, I checked out the RISD Museum of Art’s special exhibition, “Urban America, 1930-70,” which includes works by Jacob Lawrence and Gordon Parks Sr.

The museum’s permanent collection includes cut-paper silhouettes by Kara Walker.  A graduate of the Rhode Island School of Design, Walker’s provocative silhouettes focus on slavery, race and sexual exploitation.

I became familiar with Walker’s work from her exploration of Hurricane Katrina, which was on exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art earlier this year.  To view some of her images, click here.

Katrina and Manmade Disasters

Earlier this month, I made a quick visit to New Orleans. Sadly, I can't report that a lot of progress has been made since I was last there.

Police cruisers still block access to the Lower Ninth Ward.  For some unknown reason, Congo Square is now off-limits.

While the lampposts along Canal Street are decked out with Christmas wreaths, the storefronts are mostly vacant. And if the Saints hadn’t played a home game, downtown and the French Quarter would have been even more desolate.

The current issue of Poverty & Race includes a reprint of Robert A. Bullard’s “Katrina and the Second Disaster: A Twenty-Point Plan to Destroy Black New Orleans.”

Dr. Bullard, director of the Environmental Justice Resource Center at Clark Atlanta University, posits there is a “’second disaster’ in the making – driven by racism, classism, elitism, paternalism and old-fashioned greed.”

Old-fashioned greed led to the displacement of African American workers by cheap illegal immigrant laborers.  An unintended consequence of the “second disaster” is adding to the stress of beleaguered Katrina survivors.  As the New York Times reported:

In the latest twist to the demographic transformation of New Orleans since it was swamped by Hurricane Katrina last year, hundreds of babies are being born to Latino immigrant workers, both legal and illegal, who flocked to the city to toil on its reconstruction.

The throng of babies gurgling in the handful of operational maternity wards here has come as a big surprise — and a financial strain — to this historically black and white city, which before the hurricane had only a small Latino community and virtually no experience of illegal immigration.

“Of all the myriad things that have changed after Katrina, this wasn’t high on anybody’s priority list,” said Dr. Mark Peters, chief executive of East Jefferson General Hospital in Metairie.

Because many immigrant mothers cannot afford to pay for prenatal care or delivery services, New Orleans’s newest citizens are adding an unexpected load to the decimated health infrastructure in a city abandoned by many of its doctors. Much of the state-financed Charity Hospital system, which before Hurricane Katrina provided the bulk of care to New Orleans’s uninsured and indigent population, remains closed.

The unending manmade disasters raise the question: How will black folks survive FEMA, HUD -- and a flood of illegal aliens and anchor babies?

Jackson Got the Blues

I'm making my way back to Brooklyn after a week in Mississippi.

At first, I was disappointed that I didn't have time to take Highway 49 to the Delta (and here), ground zero for down home blues.

Well, after one visit to the 930 Blues Café , where Ms. Jackie Bell reigns, my soul was lifted.  That sister can sang and get down like her "back ain't got no bone."

After three nights closing the joint, I felt right at home.

So, when you're in Jackson and want to hear some good blues, go by the 930 Blues Café and tell Jackie that "New York" sent you.

They Call Me Peaches

My skin is black
My arms are long
My hair is woolly
My back is strong

Strong enough to take the pain

It’s been inflicted again and again

--“Four Women” (Nina Simone)

This is Day Three of my sojourn in Jackson.  Though I’ve been mostly stuck in the hotel, I have managed to get my walk on.

While there’s not much to see in the Farish Street Historic District, I nevertheless enjoyed walking in the footsteps of blues giants like Elmore James, Sonny Boy Williamson and Little Milton, who used to perform at the Alamo Theater.

From there, it was a hop, skip and jump to the Smith Robertson Museum.  The museum is housed in the former Smith Robertson Elementary School, the first public school for black children in Jackson.  Its alumni include Richard Wright.

The museum’s depository includes artifacts related to black Mississippians’ experiences and contributions in the field, and in the fields of literature, art and politics.

The walls are lined with photographs of black women whose backs don’t bend.  Women like Ida B. Wells, Unita Blackwell and Myrlie Evers.

Before heading back to the hotel, I had lunch on Farish Street at a café that’s been serving soul food since 1961.  And, yes, the proprietor’s name is Peaches. You can find her sitting at the register by the door.

On Freedom’s Trail

His name was Medgar Evers and he walked his road alone
Like Emmett Till and thousands more whose names we'll never know
They tried to burn his home and they beat him to the ground
But deep inside they both knew what it took to bring him down

The killer waited by his home hidden by the night
As Evers stepped out from his car into the rifle sight
He slowly squeezed the trigger, the bullet left his side
It struck the heart of every man when Evers fell and died
--“Ballad of Medgar Evers”

In this season of thanks, I have a lot for which to be grateful.  I’m particularly thankful for Medgar Evers (and here), Fannie Lou Hamer (and here) and the Freedom Riders who forced the nation to fulfill the promises of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments.

The civil rights martyrs and pioneers are very much on my mind as I leave today for my first-ever trip to Mississippi, where I'm attending a conference in Jackson.

While there, I plan to pay my respects at the Medgar Evers Home Museum, the site of his assassination, and take a civil rights tour.

And since I like to keep it real, I also plan to scout out some down home blues in juke joints in Jackson and along the Gulf Coast.

Streets of San Francisco

I’m back from the Golden State, where some of the streets are tarnished by panhandlers bugging you every few feet.  Still, walking the streets of San Francisco with Koko Taylor’s “Walking the Back Street” reverberating in my head was a joy.

Along the way, I stopped by the Farmers Market at the Ferry Building and sampled organic produce, including some mouth-watering pluot (don’t worry, I’d never heard of it either).

And given my organic state of being, I paused at “Cupid’s Span” and contemplated the possibilities.

After getting my walk on, I stopped in Little Saigon.  Later, I was off to the Herbst Theater for the “3rd Annual George Bush Going Away Party.”  Though there’s nothing funny about Bush (and here), I LOL.

Now, it’s back to work and that’s no joke.

Mexifornia

Today, I’m back on the Farm for Stanford’s alumni weekend.

I had hoped to meet with Dr. Victor Davis Hanson who coined the term “Mexifornia.”  Dr. Hanson is a senior fellow at the Hoover Institution, which is located on campus. Unfortunately, he has a speaking engagement at Harvard.

I was motivated to contact Dr. Hanson after I read his op-ed piece in the San Jose Mercury News in which he wrote:

Broad class considerations are now transcending particular party, racial and ethnic views of illegal immigration, pitting the well-off few against the less-fortunate many. Many of the more-privileged Americans who frequent fancy restaurants, stay in hotels and depend on hired help for lawn and pool maintenance, home repair and child care don't think illegal immigration is that big a deal.

Those in the higher-paid professions do not fear low-wage competition for their jobs in law, medicine, academia, the media or government. And many who have no problem with the present influx live in affluent communities with good schools insulated from the immediate budgetary consequences of meeting the needs of the offspring of the 11 million here illegally. These wealthier people aren’t so much liberal in their tolerance of illegal immigration as they are self-interested and cynical.

In the current issue of Focus magazine, published by the Joint Center for Political and Economic Studies, the premier black think tank, Dr. Steven J. Shulman of Colorado State University writes:

The questions that immigration inevitably raises—first and foremost about who we are, how many we are, and who has a claim on our resources—go to the heart of our national identity. That is nowhere more evident than in the debate about the impact of immigration on African Americans.

…

Nor is the immediately observable wage impact the only cause for concern. Carolyn Hoxby of Harvard University has shown that immigration reduces the probability of college graduation for African Americans (emphasis added); Julian Betts has shown the same for the probability of high school graduation. Schools with high immigrant shares of their student populations are forced to devote a rising fraction of their scarce resources solving the special problems of immigrant students. The result is the “educational crowding out” of African American students. The future consequences include slower wage growth for African Americans. Immigration thus harms their economic prospects in both the short term and the long term.

The future consequences also include fewer marriageable black men. Consider: There already are 500,000 more black women than black men who have graduated from college.

Yeah, happy homecoming.

The Left Coast

In a bit, I'll be on my way to California.  After nearly two weeks of TMI about man-boy hook-ups and an alleged GOP cover-up, I’m looking forward to a break from Dennis the Menaced (and here).

Naah, strike that. The Foley Folly is manna from heaven (and here). So, I will keep track of stories about “The List” (check the left side of the page and here) while surrounded by the lisp.

But it’s all good. I'll still get to enjoy two of my favorite pastimes – climbing the hills of San Francisco and searching for the perfect bánh mì sandwich.

It’s My Birthday

I’m taking the day off.  Among other things, I’m going to get my hair “dyed, fried and laid to the side” as I get ready for my trip to San Francisco tomorrow.

Speaking of hair laid to the side, I recently attended a colloquium on Josephine Baker at Columbia University.  That was one fierce sister who showed the world her derrière -- and lots of love as an activist with the French Resistance and the NAACP.  Ms. Baker's "Rainbow Tribe" of 12 multi-ethnic adopted children showed that her love knew no bounds.

OK, back to me.  It sure would be nice if some of you showed me some love.  And, no, I ain’t too proud to beg.

What's Next

I'm not a geek but I play one online (here and here).   So, I'm going to spend most of this weekend at various tech events, including WIRED NextFest, the world's fair of technology at the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center in New York City.

If you're in NY and want to "experience the future," click here.

Blessing the Gatehouse

I began writing this post on Saturday sitting on a bench outside Shepherd Hall on the campus of the City College of New York, my alma mater.

I stopped on campus on my way to Harlem Stage for the consecration of The Gatehouse, a cultural venue located across from CCNY on Convent Avenue. This new performance space brings together the spirit and the secular. It is located in a historic pumping station that I passed countless times on my way to and from the subway. Back then, it was an eyesore. More than $16 million later, this fully restored landmark is a jewel on Harlem’s cultural landscape.

For nearly two hours, we sang along as Dr. Ysaye Maria Barnwell of the legendary ensemble Sweet Honey In The Rock led a vocal workshop that featured spirituals, African rhythms and chants, and songs of protest.

The Rev. Calvin O. Butts III, pastor of the Abyssinian Baptist Church (and here) then gave the blessing.

Dr. Butts said that effective cultural development is an integral component of economic development. “No community can survive without culture.” He reminded us of Harlem’s transcendent role in the nation’s cultural identity -- from bebop to hip-hop. “It’s all here and I refuse to let that go.”

For more info about The Gatehouse, click here.

On Vacation

In  case you're wondering about this painting, it's Pablo Picasso's "Night Fishing at Antibes."  And, yes, I've gone fishin'.

I'll be back after Labor Day.

Wade in the Water

Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children,
Wade in the water
God’s a-going to trouble the water
--"Wade in the Water"

If you’re in New York City on Sunday, you may want to go see “Wade in the Water: A Katrina Storm Drama” at the National Black Theater in Harlem.

When my colleague Ron Daniels sent me notice of this event, I immediately marked my calendar.  To be sure, it’s a fundraiser for two worthy causes (and here).  But the title of the play resonates with me.  For sheer inspiration, few recordings can match Ramsey Lewis’ 1966 rendition of this Negro spiritual (scroll down).

For ticket info, please call (718) 774-2725 or (718) 287-0106.

Brother Ray

I’m back in the music city, where over the weekend I heard Eddie Floyd “Knock on Wood” and Percy Sledge belt out “When a Man Loves a Woman” under the stars at Lincoln Center.

While in Music City, I spent hours at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.  Now I’m more a “boogie woogie country girl” than country, but the exhibitions and collections still knocked my socks off.

The Ray Charles multi-media tribute alone is worth the price of admission. It's duly noted that Brother Ray introduced the music of the white working class to new audiences and made country music cool.

BTW, when it comes to pimping one’s ride, today’s rap artists don’t have a thing over Elvis Presley or Webb Pierce. You haven’t seen a pimpmobile until you’ve seen Pierce’s 1962 Pontiac Bonneville convertible, which is adorned with 150 silver dollars, among other doodads.

Brother Ray’s influence reaches beyond the grave. At the NCSL policy session on music and the arts and economic development, Louisiana state Rep. Steve Scalise touted the success of the Motion Picture Incentives Act in bringing more than $500 million in new film productions to Louisiana.

Scalise credited “Ray,” which was filmed in Louisiana, with breaking the mold on tax incentives and convincing Hollywood studio executives of their economic value.

Music City

In a few hours, I’ll be leaving for LaGuardia Airport (groan) to catch a flight to Nashville, where I’m attending the annual meeting of the National Conference of State Legislatures.

This is one of my favorite gatherings because the schedule is full of policy sessions on topics ripped-from-the-headlines.  But the real genius of this year’s conference is that I’ll get a chance to check out the tribute to “The Genius”  at the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, “I Can’t Stop Loving You: Ray Charles and Country Music.”

Given the fluid (no pun intended) carry-on restrictions, I’m not taking my laptop.  So, this is my last post until I return to New York. In the meantime, I’ll be hanging out conducting my usual field research, as well as here and here.

Remembering Katrina

As the first anniversary of Hurricane Katrina approaches, it’s heartening to know that Americans have not forgotten those who were left behind to fend for themselves.

A recent survey by the Kaiser Family Foundation found that 70% of respondents do not think that Katrina's most vulnerable survivors have received the assistance they need with housing, health care and rebuilding their lives.

And Mardi Gras, JazzFest and Satchmo SummerFest notwithstanding, 52% believe there is major work to be done to get the Crescent City back to normal.  Indeed, 30% said “in crisis” best describes the new New Orleans.

Earlier this week, the African-American Leadership Project (AALP) has announced a schedule of Katrina observances to “acknowledge our losses, our suffering, our mistakes and our hope for the future.”

For more info, contact AALP Chairperson Gail Glapion or AALP Project Manager Mtangulizi Sanyika at (504) 242-8353 or (713) 376-3364; send e-mail here.

Summertime and the Living Ain’t Easy

It’s hot.  But as Mark Twain quipped: “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.”

So, rather than add to the idle chatter, I’m going “where the weather suits my clothes.”  Though Buddy Guy went down south, I’m heading north.

I’ll be back on Monday (and here).

Looking for Officer Feelgood

There was too much week in my weekend so I’m off to a slow start. But probably not as slow as the woman who placed a booty call to 911:

A woman who called 911 to get “the cutest cop I’ve seen” sent back to her home got a date all right -- a court date.

The same sheriff’s deputy arrested her on charges of misuse of the emergency dispatch system.

Sure, I can empathize with the caller’s lament that “it doesn’t come very often a good man comes to your doorstep.”  But, hello, aren’t there any donut shops in Aloha, Ore.?

If convicted, this desperate house frau could face some jail time plus as much as $4000 in fines.   To listen to the 911 call, click here.

So, tell me, how was your weekend?

Summer in the City

Another summer and I still can’t stand the heat.  But I’m not a beach-goer and I definitely don’t go up on the roof.  Anyway, it's a soulful myth that the “air is fresh and sweet” on New York City’s tar beaches.  Blame it on the urban heat island effect.

As I count down to Labor Day, the free concerts in the city’s parks make the heat and humidity just barely tolerable.  This season’s lineup includes Shemekia Copeland, the Mighty Clouds of Joy, LL Cool J and Leela James.
          

Last night, the right Reverend Al Green provided some love and happiness at Asser Levy Park in Coney Island.  For the good times.

Summer in the City

Another summer and I still can’t stand the heat.  But I’m not a beach-goer and I definitely don’t go up on the roof.  Anyway, it's a soulful myth that the “air is fresh and sweet” on New York City’s tar beaches.  Blame it on the urban heat island effect.

As I count down to Labor Day, the free concerts in the city’s parks make the heat and humidity just barely tolerable.  This season’s lineup includes Shemekia Copeland, the Mighty Clouds of Joy, LL Cool J and Leela James.
          

Last night, the right Reverend Al Green provided some love and happiness at Asser Levy Park in Coney Island.  For the good times.

Mississippi Goddamn

Alabama’s got me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddamn
--“Mississippi Goddamn,” Nina Simone

Upset doesn’t begin to describe my response to this headline, “Hurricane Katrina Survivors Twice Victimized as 70 Workers Lose Jobs to Illegal Immigrants."  And when I viewed the video report, I nearly blew a gasket. An excerpt:

Hurricane Katrina was almost one year ago, but its effects are still being felt in the Gulf Region, where thousands of people are still waiting for permanent housing and full-time jobs. Recently in Mobile, AL, 70 construction-industry workers thought they had finally found the employment opportunity they were waiting for, when they were hired for reconstruction jobs in Biloxi, MS.

Not only had they found jobs, but they were also working to help fellow hurricane victims rebuild their city. However, within 10 days of relocating to Biloxi for the project, the workers were replaced with illegal immigrants and sent home.

For more info, click here (and here).

Mississippi Goddamn

Alabama’s got me so upset
Tennessee made me lose my rest
And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddamn
--“Mississippi Goddamn,” Nina Simone

Upset doesn’t begin to describe my response to this headline, “Hurricane Katrina Survivors Twice Victimized as 70 Workers Lose Jobs to Illegal Immigrants."  And when I viewed the video report, I nearly blew a gasket. An excerpt:

Hurricane Katrina was almost one year ago, but its effects are still being felt in the Gulf Region, where thousands of people are still waiting for permanent housing and full-time jobs. Recently in Mobile, AL, 70 construction-industry workers thought they had finally found the employment opportunity they were waiting for, when they were hired for reconstruction jobs in Biloxi, MS.

Not only had they found jobs, but they were also working to help fellow hurricane victims rebuild their city. However, within 10 days of relocating to Biloxi for the project, the workers were replaced with illegal immigrants and sent home.

For more info, click here (and here).

Amtrak Blues

I love riding the train.  When Amtrak introduced its high-speed express service, I was one of the first passengers.  Though the Acela service has deteriorated, it’s still a civilized way to travel -- most of the time.  Yesterday was not one of those times.

On my way home from Providence, my train lost power within minutes of leaving Union Station in New Haven.  For nearly two hours, I sat and watched local “milk trains” zoom by.  Amtrak is in such dire financial straits that the crew didn’t even offer us a cup of ice.

After repeated announcements that we would be moving “shortly,” a “rescue engine” finally arrived.   As we inched along, I had the sinking feeling that my fantasy of taking the train cross country (and here), would remain just that -- a fantasy.
         

For info on how you can support intercity passenger rail service, click here.

From Waterfire to the Fire

I spent the past few days in Providence, a gem of a city that has it all -- friendly people, public art, interesting architecture, open spaces, good food -- and Waterfire.  Words alone cannot describe this mystical, cultural-cum-civic experience.

But all good things must come to an end so I’m packing my bag and moving on down the Amtrak line.  I have to get off the train at Penn Station otherwise I’d take it to the 30th Street Station and head on over to the National Constitution Center, where Sen. Arlen Specter is convening a field hearing on “Comprehensive Immigration Reform: Examining the Need for a Guest Worker Program.”

If I were a witness, I would tell the committee that as the nation's population approaches 300 million, we don’t need a guest worker program.  Instead, we need jobs that pay a living wage and benefits. That said, no one has told the folks in Western Massachusetts that there are jobs that Americans won’t do. I did an informal survey of the housekeeping staff at the Campus Center Hotel and, as expected, most of the workers are Americans.

In Newport, for instance, there are front of the house jobs that Americans are eager to fill but they have been displaced by Russian guest workers. Indeed, I met a lovely family whose teenage son recounted how he had applied for a job only to be told that he would be considered if the “Russian girls” didn’t show up.

So, in this bastion of wealth and privilege, there’s a racial divide in the exploitation of immigrants. Black and brown immigrants are in back of the house jobs in the kitchen, housekeeping, etc.  Meanwhile, blue-eyed blondes, who can’t speak English, are out front struggling to take food orders.

House Party

Now my buddy and me was on the main stem
Foolin’ around just me and him
We decided we could use a little something to eat
So we went to a house on Rampart Street
We knocked on the door and it opened up with ease
And a lush little Miss said, “Come in, please”
And before we could even bat an eye
We were right in the middle of a big fish fry
--“Saturday Night Fish Fry,” Louis Jordan

As the nation prepares to celebrate Independence Day, it’ll be just another day for evacuees who are still without permanent housing ten months after Hurricane Katrina.  Common Ground Collective is calling out for folks to come to New Orleans to support the Survivors’ Village Unity Day:

• Thousands of the 7,300 New Orleans homes people were forced to leave had no damage. These are immediately inhabitable, but the Department of Housing and Urban Development spent $1.5 million to fence-off and board-up the apartments while displaced residents face homelessness.
• Public housing residents, still scattered across the country, may have lost their assistance on June 30. Despite what pundits say, being homeless in a strange city with no support system is not “better off.”
• The Housing Authority of New Orleans has been effecting illegal evictions. Every resident has a current, valid lease. A lawsuit is in process against HANO and HUD to force them to honor the lease agreements.

Volunteers are invited to join public housing residents on the Fourth of July. For more info, call (504) -717-7324.

School Daze

Though school is out for the summer, I’m heading off to college to attend a four-day summit, “Democracy & Independence: Sharing News & Information in a Connected World,” at the University of Massachusetts Amherst.

As an undergrad going through my rite of passage on the NYC subway, I fantasized about going to Amherst. Truth is, it was so long ago that I don’t remember whether it was Amherst College or UMass Amherst.  Whatever. They're both leafy campuses, where presumably one could study without being flashed.

I’ll be taking notes and blogging about the conference as participants seek “to chart the future of journalism and democracy amid dramatic, technology-driven change.”

Capitol Gains

As Black Music Month winds down, I’m in the nation’s capitol.  While DC has lost some of my favorite clubs, including Mr. Henry’s on Columbia Road, it has gained some hardcore blues enthusiasts.

And since I’m here, I can catch some blues at the Safeway 14th Annual National Capital Barbecue Battle.  One of the stages is sponsored by Red Hot & Blue whose investors once included the late Lee Atwater.

Atwater’s legendary race-baiting makes Karl Rove look like a Boy Scout.  Still, Atwater loved black music.  To this day, whenever I hear “Soul Finger” (and here), I flash back to January 1989 and the “Celebration for Young Americans,” a tribute to R&B during the American Bicentennial Presidential Inaugural.

Atwater, who chaired the event, had assembled an all-star band to perform the soul classic as George H.W. Bush walked out on the stage.  Actually, it would be hard for me to forget that night since I have a commemorative poster in my home-office.
               

Anyway, for this weekend’s blues lineup, click here.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Today is Brooklyn Day so I want to give a shoutout to my hometown, where there are actually lots of trees.

The borough is also the home of the Brooklyn Bridge, that iconic steel thingamajig that spans the East River.  You know, the bridge that terrorists were allegedly plotting to blow up (and here).

But perhaps the faceless bureaucrats in the Department of Homeland Security cannot see the bridge for all the trees. How else can one explain their bonehead decision that there are no national monuments and icons in New York City?

So, show us some love and send their hapless boss, Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff, a message: Get a clue.

I Love Music

There are only two kinds of music, good and bad.
-- Duke Ellington

June is the month during which I get to deduct a lot of my, um, research expenses. So for the next 30 days, I will go buck wild.

To be sure, I love good music but I live for the blues. If I clear my desk in time, I will follow the North Star (OK, hop on Amtrak) to Toronto for the Distillery Blues Festival.

I was last in Toronto in 1984 to visit my then-boyfriend. On my five-hour flight from San Francisco, I listened to one track, “Billie Jean,” nonstop. This time, I’ll take the train and my MP3 player will be blasting Etta James' "Stacked Deck" and