Here are some thoughts pertaining to “Community.” Other topics are featured on their own pages. Just look to the right column and select the category of your choice for more information and articles.
By the way, the photo you see here is of a group of young people from the “Mayor’s Summer Youth Program.” These kids, from neighborhoods all over the City of Buffalo, work to clean up areas throughout the city all summer long. You might say they are an important reference to “Community.”
Quality of life issues are all around us and sometimes feel insurmountable. Sure, we’ve had issues through the decades, but it seems harder than ever to assure safe neighborhoods and the underlying issue is quality of life.
For example, a neighborhood is wrought with vandalism, street crime, and break-ins. Actually, that may be tame compared to some areas. However, for the purpose of this article, we will use it as an example.
What creates the crimes experienced such as these, whether in the city or suburbs, are issues that have gotten away from us. A recent study by Ricky Bluthenal of the Charles R Drew University of Medicine and Science states that MLBs are at the base of many quality of life issues. MLBs? Malt Liquor Beverages.
Says Bluthenal: “Measuring MLB consumption is difficult because MLBs differ from other beer beverages in two important aspects: container size and alcohol content by volume. We found that the combination of these differences resulted in the average malt liquor drinker in our study consuming 80 percent more alcohol per drink than the average regular beer drinker. Although we did not report consequences in this paper, typically the more alcohol consumed the greater the probability of negative alcohol-related consequences for an individual and their community.”
“MLBs can be sold in containers as large as 40-ounce bottles, or ‘forties’ as they are referred to,” said Rhonda Jones-Webb, associate professor in the School of Public Health at the University of Minnesota. “‘Forties’ are commonly sold chilled and wrapped in brown paper bags for immediate consumption, and independent web sites devoted to malt liquor as well as rap lyrics and movie scripts encourage ‘chugging’ the bottles before they get warm. The combined effects of higher alcohol content, larger serving size, and faster consumption can result in higher blood alcohol levels, an increased risk of aggressive behavior, and other alcohol-related problems.”
Last month, After 50 ran a terrific article on Buffalo Police Commissioner H McCarthy Gipson. Most of the minor crimes his troops see could be avoided by policing quality of life issues. However, there are just so many officers available and they are needed to address the crimes that, unfortunately, are catapulted into a higher level, due to the quality of life our community has forced upon them from alcohol distributors and mom and pop stores that sell MLBs.
These containers (“40s,” “pounders,” and other nicknames) are largely targeted to Afican American and Hispanic youth along with other young adults. Jones-Webb continues, “Malt liquor brands such as Steel Reserve, Hurricane, Magnum, and Panther are used by the alcohol industry to connote power and machismo and lure youth and young adults into the market. Rap artists have been popular images in malt liquor advertising and ‘gangsta’ rap performers portray malt liquor as a sign of masculinity. The targeting of minority youth for malt liquor sales is of particular concern because alcohol advertising has been shown to influence brand choice, and brand choices during youth can influence beverage choices as adults.”
So, what does this all mean? We need change – change in legislation. These small stores that sell these containers dot practically ever other street corner in the city, while convenience stores in the ‘burbs offer them up, as well. The marketing and pricing, along with the alcohol content is destroying lives. Some of the consumers are being taken advantage of, as this is the beverage of choice due to pricing and the opportunity for an economical and quick “buzz.”
Columbus, Ohio has legislation on the books that prohibits MLB sales. But, we need more and more folks aware of the issue so we can affect the change.
In that manner, Commissioner Gipson and his crew will be able to concentrate on crimes not fed by the prey of alcohol pushers such as the stores that sell to the over served, and the distributors who blatantly advertise these products.
Now, it’s your turn to be an activist. If you live in the city, contact your Common Councilmember and request a review of the Columbus, Ohio law to be implemented into the City Charter. If you live elsewhere in the state, contact Attorney General Andrew M Cuomo and request the same review. Not only will you be contributing to the quality of life in your area, you will be contributing to another person’s lifestyle.
“Ugly Betty” Tops the Charts – But, Why?It’s amazing to me. “Ugly Betty” won the Golden Globe Award. It’s not that “Ugly Betty” won, but what is truly amazing to me is that we are all so astounded that a television show like this (1) had to be made, (2) was considered a comedy without a lesson when it was first introduced, and (3) that so many people are amazed by its appeal.
It’s unfortunate. Unfortunate that we, as a global community, need to be reminded that beauty is not just skin-deep. The media, for decades, have reinforced the issue of beauty versus brains, beauty as the bringer of all things, and youth as the magic doorway to a happy life.
Fortunately, there are a few good writers out there that wish to create a new view of what life has to offer if we could only shed the dictum of the past.
How often are we smitten by a good body or gorgeous face, yet are not even recognizing the talents of someone with a plain countenance, or repelled by someone that may have a disfigurement? Aren’t we all cut from the same cloth internally?
We have to go deeper in our assessment of neighbors and friends to truly find the pot of gold to success. Many have the talents and skills to produce great works of art, organize a coalition, govern responsibly, or provide a positive spin on the ills of society. Yet we criticize a person’s clothes, their accent, and their appearance before even giving them a chance.
I once met a woman who was known for her community work and ethic. She was nothing that I thought she would be. Simply dressed in work clothes, a bandanna on her head, and fire in her eyes, I realized when I first met her face-to-face, that this was the person that had worked so endlessly to make her eastside neighborhood better and a stand out among many. I was flabbergasted to hear someone say, “Can you believe she dresses like that?” I responded, “Why not?” Here’s a woman who works hard and is accepted by everyone in her neighborhood without a second thought. She dresses as she works, sensibly.
A long time ago, I read that the apostle Paul said to “become all things to all men.” I took that as a great way to define one’s presentation, especially in sales. How often have I seen people in distressed neighborhoods distrust “a suit.” This eastside activist became a comrade to all in her district by just being her, without frills or the uniform of success. Yet, she succeeded, not only with those living in her area, but also throughout the city in government, the courts, and other places she had to make contact with to get what her neighborhood needed. She became all things to the people that mattered most and did not present herself to others as one who cared more for how she was perceived by those in power as much as she cared for how she could get the job done. Bravo!
Another eastside activist I have come to deeply respect attends meetings to rid her area of drugs and prostitution. She created youth opportunities and developed a strong bond with kids of all ages who consider her a second mom. She’s overweight, wears jeans, a parka, and a watchcap as she sits on and chairs a Board consisting of neighbors and representatives from the city, state, and federal levels. Moreover, she gets the job done. Such a dynamo, not taking the time to “spruce up,” but rather taking every minute of every day to assure safety and security.
On the other hand, I just attended a meeting recently where a new member would only address one person eye-to-eye. That person was not a member of the group that could provide the time for leadership due to many other responsibilities, yet, he was wearing a tie, just coming in from work. He was elevated to the leadership role by this man for his appearance rather than his activity and not even he could understand why. When I mentioned later that the man addressed him due to his appearance, he was aghast and promised to never attend a meeting until he went home and changed to assure he was on a level playing field with everyone else. How unfortunate that this young man would feel he had to do that in a neighborhood that is rift with crime, to guarantee that others at the table were given the same respect as he received that night.
So, when someone comes to a meeting, or moves into the neighborhood, instead of judging them by their appearance, listen to their words and recognize what they may have to offer before passing judgment. You might be turning away a powerhouse, just like “Ugly Betty.”
12/13/2006
Donn Esmonde
Buffalo News
They know they are appreciated here. It is on these streets, with these people, where the officers of B District feel the warmth, see the respect, understand that most folks see them as friends, not as the enemy.
Take people fighting to make a neighborhood bloom amid weeds. Add caring cops. The relationship is not just professional, but personal. Cops are not just a uniform, but a familiar face or a name. In return, the folks in the West Village – Johnson Park, Whitney Place and other streets in the shadow of City Hall – are watched over, cared for.
That is the other tragedy of last week’s shooting of two downtown B District officers: Patricia Parete and Carl Andolina went down on friendly turf. Varner Harris Jr. is accused of running across Elmwood Avenue to the corner of Whitney, where he shot Parete in the jaw and wounded Andolina, who then tackled and held him.
From Amherst to Angola, people were stunned. In this neighborhood, they grieved.
“We all felt horrible, for this to happen here,” said neighborhood activist Marilyn Rodgers. “It’s a great crew [in B District].”
Rodgers, 53, is a solid block of determination. In regular meetings with B District Officers Ken Devlin and George Morlock, Rodgers and others pass along tips and hash out problems. Cops do everything from squeeze local slumlords to help close down – for a while – a corner store that doubled as a druggie haven.
At a block celebration a couple of summers ago, Rodgers noticed a suspicious van. She mentioned it to Devlin, who had stopped by. Within minutes, police cars converged from three directions and took down what turned out to be a drug courier.
“Some of the officers, we’re very close with,” Rodgers said. “Others, we at least know by name or by face.”
The 6-foot-7 Andolina was familiar as a gentle giant. Parete was seen as a take-care-of-business cop of few words.
The way it is on Johnson Park is the way it should be everywhere between cops and community. Cops see hard-working people such as Rodgers bringing 19th century houses back to life. They know the folks who have a stake here, who against the odds are breathing life back into a gasping neighborhood. Barely a block from Marilyn Rodgers’ restored 1830 brick bungalow is the notorious 10th Street, site of numerous drug busts and a recent firebombing.
“In 19 years on the force,” Devlin said, “I’ve never seen people who care so much about their neighborhood and each other.”
When the cops were shot – Andolina is out of the hospital, Parete is in serious condition – most people felt bad. People in this neighborhood did something.
Local businesses donated food to officers on vigil in the hospital. Folks in the West Village collected more than $600 to donate to the wounded officers.
On these streets, the wall between cop and citizen crumbled. It was just people, some of them in uniform, joined in a shared battle.
“The cops I know will come by, pull into the driveway and say, “Hey, Jules, how’s it going?” said Julie Stayer, a nurse recruiter.
The more you know somebody, the more you want to reach out. It is hard for cops to meet folks when they’re running from call to call. Most people only come face to face with a cop when they do something wrong. It is not the formula for a healthy relationship.
On these streets, it is different. Folks are fighting for a neighborhood. The cops are at their side. When somebody goes down, everybody feels it.
“I say a 10-bead rosary every day for the [wounded] officers,” Stayer said. “It’s devastating. Everybody feels bad.”
They wouldn’t feel so bad, if they didn’t care.
e-mail: desmonde@buffnews.com
aus·pi·cious
adj.
1. Attended by favorable circumstances; propitious
2. Marked by success; prosperous.
With all the new development throughout our region, particularly in our city, it can be considered an auspicious time for Buffalo and Western New York. It is written that a period before and after the Dalai Lama’s birthday is considered “Auspicious Days.” It makes one wonder if his visit has been part of these “auspicious times” for our area.
The visit on September 18-20, 2006, by His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, the head of state in exile of Tibet and spiritual leader of the Tibetan people, is an extraordinary event for Western New York. On Tuesday, September 19th, the Dalai Lama’s message to the masses (approximated at 31,000) was a clear and simple one of mutual respect and compassion with a focus on world peace.
This is a man who tosses aside the material plaudits he receives on a regular basis stating, “I am nothing but just one of you…” while stressing “Every human being has same right to have successful life…happy life.” If that were only taken to heart…
He identifies himself first, as a human being, second as a Tibetan, and third as a Buddhist. A simple man, monk, lama, with a message for all mankind who states that everyone needs to have spiritualism, even their own religion. Buddhism, you see, is a lifestyle rather than a religion.
The crowd at this event showed more diversity than I have witnessed before. As we left our vehicle at the Pepsi Center, we noticed a small group “tail-gating” – only in Buffalo. They were from the Concerned Ecumenical Ministries at 286 Lafayette and it was also another auspicious date – Sister Chris’ birthday. What a way to celebrate!
As we entered the stadium and took our seats we watched as it slowly and quietly filled. When it seemed most were in place, subdued speech created a peaceful, respectful ambience. It seemed most were familiar with the Dalai Lama’s teachings on mindfulness. Slide presentations were abundant and showed the background of all who worked diligently on this event, the progression and deconstruction of the UB Sand Mandala, and some of the Sunday performance of “Sacred Music, Sacred Dance.”
Other pre-address entertainment was presented by Jesse Levine (viola) and Charles Haupt violin) as they performed “Duo in G Minor.” The next live performance was presented by the Lamas of the Drepung Loseling Monastery. “Shanak Garcham – The Dance of the Black Hat Masters” provides a view of this ancient dance for the elimination of negative energies and hindrances. The dancers movements symbolize the joy and freedom of seeing reality in its nakedness.
A true bonus to the day was the live appearance by Philip Glass, with his first piece – the appropriately entitled “Duet” along with former monk and Grammy award winning Nawang Khechog on flute and vocal chants. Two solo presentations by Mr. Glass included “2 Etudes” and “Mad Rush.”
During the last piece by Glass, the crowd’s sights were turned on the rear of the stage as the Dalai Lama’s car came into view. Slowly, the 71 year old monk ascended the stage to receive his Honorary Doctorate of Humane Letters from the State University of New York by Gordon R Gross (SUNY Board of Trustees), John R Ryan (Chancellor), and John B Simpson (President, UB). He wasted no time in putting the degree to good use stating: “So with that degree, perhaps I could make an appeal…” and continued by asking that educators from kindergarten through college to find ways to develop “warm heartedness or a compassionate heart.”
As usual, His Holiness showed his sense of humor telling the crowd that if anyone had come to witness miracles or healings, he had no special energy or powers. He continued in stressing the need to depend on our mental attitudes, “When your mind is in a calm state…you can endure physical discomfort such as pain.”
His message was simple, easy, and based in common sense for uncommon times. To have compassion for every living thing, having and leading a mindful life, to become ambassadors of peace in this turbulent world.
There truly is so much more to say about the address, but space is prohibitive. Here’s a link to see all the events for yourself, from the Sand Mandala Consecration, the Interfaith Service on September 18th, the musical performances, the Dalai Lama’s address and question/answer period, to today’s symposium on “Law, Buddhism, and Social Change:” http://www.buffalo.edu/dalai_lama/video.html
There have been many times I have experienced a sideways glance when I say I am a Buddhist. In the past, that may have made me uncomfortable, but not now, after hearing this “Simple Monk” speak quietly, yet with the wisdom of common sense and the courage of 1,000 Snow Lions.
Many thanks to Anne Gareis for the photos of the event.
“Compassion is the keen awareness of the interdependence of all things.” –Thomas Merton*On December 31, 2005 I had two friends over to quietly bring in the New Year with a little food, a toast, and great conversation. Out of the blue I made a statement that went something like “My mantra for 2006 is ‘Passion for Compassion’.” I placed signs in my office with the mantra on them and I attempted to live by the mantra. It’s hard, damn hard. Every time something happens that flips a switch, one can only fight the temptation not to become angry with perpetrators and slum-lords.
Then, if you really take to heart, the quote that appears above by Thomas Merton, things slowly come into perspective. As I write this I have been interrupted with five calls regarding criminal activities in three different districts of the city. Although I am on a hard deadline, I have to act with compassion.
I can’t say, “Not now, I’m busy.” I have to train myself to take a few deep breaths and listen. And when I give them a chance to speak, I understand their need for someone to talk to, someone to take action on their part, because they are so afraid.
If we, as a society, can take the words “…keen awareness of the interdependence of all things.” to heart, we can make a stronger impact than any government grant or gift. For many years, we as a community, have acted on our most pressing needs – schedules, lack of time, what Johnnie wants, the telephone, on and on and on. We have forgotten the simple act of listening to others and offering assistance. We have not yet realized the “interdependence of all things.”
If so, our neighborhoods would all experience what a handful of successful neighborhoods are experiencing now – a renaissance of good neighbors – less crime – better home values – cleaner streets – children who have the opportunity to interact with others and have learned what was once termed the social graces as a result of that interaction.
A lot of folks don’t agree with Hillary Clinton’s mantra of “It Takes a Village,” but it is just common sense to me, especially in these hard times. Our social responsibility encompasses everyone. And, though there are times when I feel I want to shut off my phone and hibernate, I know that nine times out of ten, if I answer it, if I listen, if I take positive action to assist to remedy a wrong, I feel better for it. I feel better for it! My community is better off for it. And, whether or not it affects one person or many, the general feeling of the universe is much better off.
If we work together, compassionately, as any village in what we may term a primitive culture, we can move mountains. We can affect a single life that, in turn, can affect 100 more. It’s the reverse of the “kick-the-cat” syndrome. When someone has had a hard day, it’s difficult to walk into your home and be greeted by more problems. Problems and issues mount up on one another, and then the family kitty walks by and barfs on your shoe. That’s gone way too far and poor kitty is quickly airborne by the same shoe she barfed on. So, reverse it. Take the issues, become human again, react compassionately, help someone, make a difference in their lives and it will spread.
I had the opportunity to attend the lecture by the Dalai Lama this year and, of course, his lesson for all of us was compassion. In his writings and lectures he has stated over and over again, “If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.” It makes perfect sense; we just need to bolster each other to be able to perform like that.
It’s hard, but worth it. And the end game is one that can be celebrated by many. So, instead of kicking the cat, give her a little scratch under the chin, listen to a neighbor, and talk to the people who can make a difference. We’re all affected by the happenings around us. If someone thinks that crime three blocks away or on the next neighborhood doesn’t affect them, think again. Stop the spread before it starts by practicing compassion in your community.
Have a passion for compassion in 2007! And, a very Happy New Year for all of us!
*Thomas Merton (1915-1968) was a writer and Trappist monk at Our Lady of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky. His writings include such classics as The Seven Storey Mountain, New Seeds of Contemplation, and Zen and the Birds of Appetite. Merton is the author of more than seventy books that include poetry, personal journals, collections of letters, social criticism and writings on peace, justice and ecumenism.
At 1:40 am, October 13, 2006 I listened to the shots of tree limbs as they broke away from the 200+ year old oaks and chestnuts of Johnson Park. Smaller, sharper shots were heard as the young pear trees also gave way to the heavy snow. It was as rapid as popcorn on a stove and it lasted for hours.
Throughout the night, into the morning, I would venture outdoors and watch the limbs drop the snow in what appeared to be a flurry and then succumb to the weight, landing on the Green. My heart sank with each shot, watching as these wonderful friends, trees that have existed since the time of our first mayor’s contribution of this land as Buffalo’s first park in 1837, gave up the ghost.
The morning after, as the sun rose bright, the survey of the debacle was more than one could digest. In between all the trees stood piles of limbs and leaves, some reaching a height of six feet, with barely enough room to walk through. How would we ever clean this up? How could we save the Green underneath the debris from the heavy equipment it would take to load these piles?
The answer came on Thursday morning when I received a call from Jim Pavel of the City of Buffalo and Keep Western New York Beautiful. Could we use a crew from Buff State to clear the center of the Green to the edges? Considering the Green is approximately one acre and the residents of Johnson Park are mostly comprised of either multiple dwellings or elderly homeowners, how could I say “no?”
I quickly got on the phone and obtained three “Jugs O’ Joe” and pastries donated by the Delaware SPoT Coffee folks. The Hampton Inn baked cookies, also a donation. Neighbors from Whitney Place (Sharon Heim, David Wahl, Laurie Feldman, and Anne Gareis) provided more cookies, donuts, and potato chips. Mark Brown of Prospect Avenue brought a case of water. Tom Gleed and Bryan Ball from West Tupper delivered the SPoT donation and then took up shovels and brooms to assist in the clearing of the curb areas to assure the sewers would have proper drainage. Collectively we added pop and more water along with a cash donation to the pizza the kids would enjoy later at Buff State. Neighbors and businesses coming together to say “Thanks” to this great group of young people donating their time, sweat, and muscle to clear the center of the Green.
Fifteen students and their Dean arrived promptly at 9:30 and we loaded as much sugar 
and caffeine into them as possible. They cleared enough of the center to make the parkland passable and usable and then assisted some elderly homeowners in clearing large limbs from their back and front yards.
By 11:30 these 15 kids had cleared a mountain of debris while maintaining a great attitude and offering any other assistance. We cannot express how much we appreciate their efforts.
Although the clean up also provided a clearer picture of the damage to many trees, it gave the residents of the West Village a shot in the arm that there were others out there in our city that truly care about our green space as much as we do.
Newell from Buffalo Rising stopped by after the students had left and we talked about how trees and green spaces were as much a cultural asset to a community as performances. This park always performs for us. Whether a place for the neighborhood kids and their families to use for play and picnics or for events and other outdoor activities, Johnson Park provides an area of respite for many residents without the transportation to larger parkland.
A child’s view of swaying branches in the summer breeze can provide a myriad of imaginative one-act plays. The scattering and chattering of the wildlife found in the trees provides a view of nature that we soon overlook being so close to the city’s center. The view of the Peregrine Falcon as he hunts for his family weekly gives local youngsters an advantage of all aspects of nature in the city. The sounds that emanate from the wildlife and the trees have a soothing musical nature to them that cannot be ignored. These are the simple, natural experiences that folks of every age can enjoy. These are the experiences that Mayor Johnson wanted for the city’s residents when he established our first park in what was becoming an area known as a city.
I don’t know if the students that cleared the park land realize the contribution they made to our city today, but I hope they all have a chance to read this and see what it means to us. From the oldest to the youngest, from the poorest to the richest, we have overcome one phase of park remediation to ensure its continued use as a great public space for the future.
After all was said and done, there was still a single wildflower left where the Victorian Garden was. It gave us plenty of room for meditation. But without the 
efforts of these young folks from Buff State, that flower would not have surfaced. Without Jim Pavel’s call from City Hall on Thursday, it would be quite a different task ahead. And for all these efforts, the residents of the West Village are forever grateful.
Yesterday was September 11, 2006, the Fifth Anniversary of that fateful day in American, and World, History. I know that much has been made of this day, but I feel the need to reach out and share my experiences, both in Washington, DC on September 11, 2001 and the days following the attacks when we were able to return home to Buffalo. I’ll try to be brief, however, this was the day that my life changed from working for prestige and cash to someone who decided community efforts were more important than a sizable paycheck, and it will be hard.
My job, back then, allowed me to use credits offered by the airlines, rental car agencies, hotels, and more for vacation time as I traveled an average of three to four days a week. And, vacation we did! First Class airline tickets, Rental SUVs, Suites instead of rooms – only the very best. It just so happened that we were returning from one of our favorite vacation spots, Charleston, SC, that fateful morning. As we sat in First Class on a direct flight with one layover we noted Jessie Helms was seated across from us. It wasn’t until we landed that we noticed Mr. Helms was not as unflappable as he would have his constituents think.
It was 9:00 am; we were to have landed at Reagan National at 9:15. Instead we banked over the Potomac with a strong shudder of the plane and landed, against NTSB policy, using a reverse thrust technique to quickly slow the plane down. That was a bit unsettling so I asked my traveling companion if she would like to spend our time on the ground at the US Air Club and we disembarked, first entering the Food Court section of the terminal. Then all hell broke loose.
A crowd, estimated at seven to eight deep, surrounded a bar with floor to ceiling glass. We noticed they were watching “Good Morning America” and Charlie Gibson was in the chair. As we grew closer, Charlie’s attention was caught by the monitor as the second plane exploded on the second tower. Charlie and the rest of us were speechless.
When they called for an evacuation of the airport I asked to go onto the plane to retrieve our carry-ons. As the gate clerk guided us down the jet way she said something that surprised us even more, “They’ve had us on high alert for six weeks now”.
We passed the Express Flight windows and, as usual I glanced to my right as I had done so many other times, to look at the Capitol Dome. Instead I witnessed a wall of black smoke and debris highlighted here and there by red licks of flame. We hadn’t heard a sound, no jet engine, no crash, no explosion. We hadn’t felt any percussion, either. So, we wondered exactly what in hell was going on.
We descended the escalators and went toward the open doors to be met with the acrid small of jet fuel and the horrid scene of a panicking crowd.
As we were moved across the George Washington Memorial Parkway (the third move in 15 minutes) we saw three elderly women not knowing how to mount the Jersey Medians. A pilot and a woman from Tampa assisted us in providing their relief. Our backs literally against the stone wall of the rail line, we could go no further and needed instruction.
The day was extremely hot and sunny, so when a woman fainted nearby we thought it was due to the heat. However, and sadly, we assumed wrong. She had just heard the flight number of one of the planes that flew into the Trade Center Towers. Her husband was on one of them.
For such a large crowd, the atmosphere was hushed. Even those who attempted to get through to anyone on their cells phones were quite still, in awed respect for the moment. The only words we heard were that of a US Air employee informing us that another plane was coming in and if we heard or saw anything to drop to the ground and cover our heads. We heard the plane, and then jet fighters, and the sounds trailed off, possibly on their way to Pennsylvania.
Eventually, after rushing past ATF, FBI, and Armed Forces on each street in Crystal City, we eventually found accommodations in Iwo Jima, VA, now accompanied by that same woman from Tampa and a gentleman from St. Louis. Strangers brought together under a banner of fear.
That night we listened to the helicopters overhead as we sought a one-way rental car back to Buffalo. The next day, as we drove the Baltimore Turnpike, normally backed up with traffic and filled with noise from overhead planes, but this day eerily quiet and empty, I knew my life had to change. We returned to Buffalo by Wednesday and, as most did, hung an American flag on our home, which was stolen by Friday morning.
For two weeks it seemed everyone in our country was on their best behavior, allowing folks to pass across a street, picking up papers someone else dropped, smiling and greeting one another. After two weeks, it all went back to the everyday grind.
Why does it take catastrophe to get us to straighten up and treat each other respectfully? Let’s really think about this and change our ways – work with one another – and rebuild our communities – one neighborhood at a time.
Be good to one another. Respect one another for the experiences we can share to learn better ways of living. Don’t wait for another catastrophe to speak to a neighbor or mend fences with an old friend you may have had a falling out with. And, if another catastrophe occurs, don’t stop the good behavior after a few short weeks.
As a child I would take my Aunt’s back-scratcher and long handled shoe-horn and use them as levers in my mystical rocket ship. The back-scratcher was a special lever since it came equipped with an end similar to a puppet’s hand. The shoe-horn also held great powers as an “accelerator” due to its cupping mechanism. There couldn’t be any other reasons for items like these.
Then there was that funny cane thing with the platform and four tiny legs. Hmm, maybe a broken pogo-stick? And, a small stick with a triangular wire that my Aunt used in getting dressed – couldn’t be anything else but an “ant-trapeze” in my juvenile reality.
Now, long in the tooth, so to speak, I realize the real reasons for those items. I’m affected by the very reasons my Aunt was and need them in my day-to-day living. My “rheumatis” also predicts rain and cold weather and acts as a barometer for humidity.
This condition slows me down a bit and I can see why things aren’t what they used to be translates into more than just the objects I had other uses for as a kid. It also translates into how others perceive those with such maladies.
If you walk slower or have difficulty turning jar lids or car window cranks, you’re probably “over the hill.” Unfortunately, these perceptions are, sometimes, those of our neighbors. “Mrs. Smith at ‘78’ hardly ever comes out of the house.” “Old man Carter can’t stand the noise of the kids on the block – why doesn’t he just move into a home?”
The elders of our community and neighborhoods have far more to offer than we give them credit for. Some are considered elders due to age, while others are considered elderly before their time due to illness. Maybe we just need to reach out to them. Although times have changed and things are done differently than in the past, the knowledge and wisdom our community elders hold in their hearts and minds can provide a brilliant perspective on why things aren’t what they used to be. With that background, new programs can be developed in order to enrich community life, essentially shaping the future for our youth.
They know how things were and have witnessed, first-hand, the changes in society that have seemingly built walls between neighbors. They hold the history of our neighborhoods and can retell the stories of the development of the streets and buildings that surround us. Although having some infirmities may hold them down to simpler physical tasks, their minds are still sharp and ever-searching for new knowledge. All we need to do is reach out to them and respect them enough to ask questions and for help.
Imagine a Story-Telling Circle in your community. The children learn from the 
stories but also learn the art of story-telling. They also connect with the elders of the community and a mentorship is created that binds generation to generation. The Story-Telling Circle can be done outside during warm weather months and moved to a local library, church hall, or community center in the fall and winter. Many neighborhoods have movie nights for the kids, but this program goes further to connect people, arts, and history. It also provides a village-styled kinship that can go further than a television show or a video game.
Ever wonder about the history of the area you live in? Can you think of what your kids might gather from such knowledge? Have the “village elders” tell the stories and relate the differences and you’ll open up a world to your kids that costs nothing but provides everything for an all-encompassing development of their formative years.
And, let’s not forget that being an elder is not limited to the past, but also provides the individual with the skills and interests of the present. For someone in your neighborhood that may not be able to get around so well, there may be some support and/or background projects they can work on to contribute to the organization. Self-worth goes a long way in allowing an individual to feel as if they are strong enough to contribute instead of being dependant on others. This gets folks out of the house and provides self-esteem that may have been lost due to illness. To see a renewed spark of life in a pair of eyes that have seen much of what the world has dealt out is like discovering a rainbow at the end of a storm. Give yourselves a chance to feel its warmth.
Our elders have lived it – “the life” – and are willing to share their experiences and skills if we just provide an outlet. In doing so, we open the doors to a broader spectrum of what community shaping is all about and enrich the lives of all ages in the “village.” We add the essential components of experience and caring, generational connectivity, and communication to our new community shape. We provide each generation with the whys and wherefores that things aren’t the way they used to be. And so grows the neighborhood.
In Other Words... 
