On Standing

Rising Tide 6 - David Simon, Keynote Speaker from Jason Berry on Vimeo.

I've already posted here about how much I adore David Simon. If he announced he was running for Mayor or President of anywhere, I would drop everything to help get him elected.

(To be fair, I say that knowing he will probably never be on a ballot. He has a much better job as a storyteller.)

This talk he gave in New Orleans really resonated for me. So much of the same stuff in Detroit right now. Suspicion of outsiders and newcomers. Insensitivity to external realities and commonalities. Criticism of ideas not on merit, but on some measure of "authenticity" or tenure or geography of the author.

And all this from folks who call themselves "progressive." It's a damn shame.

I think this quote sums it up pretty well:

"Everyone uses 'standing' as a shield. And it hides the fact that there are a lot of bad ideas that get credence, and a lot of good ideas that get ignored."

His anecdote about development in New Orleans and Baltimore hit especially close to home. If only we could think differently about what "progress" really means.

There You Are

This is my beloved neighbor Janet Jones, proprietor of Source Booksellers, as captured by Noah Stephens for his photodocumentary project, The People of Detroit.

Noah started the project in response to a Dateline NBC expose on the city that profiled a man who hunts, cooks and sells raccoons. "The implication being, of course, that things are so dire in Detroit that raccoon meat has become a staple food," explained Noah. "Well, I grew up on welfare in the city. I've never eaten 'coon, nor have any of my friends."

Frustrated that national media coverage wasn't representative of his experience, Noah started chronicling the people he encountered in his daily life in Detroit.

His portraits are beautiful. This might be my favorite. Janet is as warm and wonderful as she looks here.

Most Detroiters share Noah's frustration with Detroit's representation in the media. A million local writers and bloggers have opined about it, so I won't waste too much time or space echoing their frustration. 


But one of my personal annoyances has been with the nomenclature of revitalization. If I had my way, the following words would be stricken from all journalists' vocabulary:

Frontier.

Pioneer.

Blank Canvas.

Clean Slate.

I understand why these words are used, but none of them are right. They suggest a "nothingness" that entirely misses the point of why anyone I know lives in Detroit. No place with hundreds of years of history and hundreds of thousands of residents is "blank."

I'm not here because there is nothing here. I am here because of people like Janet. Her bookstore on West Willis is one of the several reasons I chose to live and work where I do. So when any reporter asks me if I see Detroit as a "blank canvas," or mistakenly calls me an "urban pioneer," I try to correct them. I am following in the footsteps of many, many people who came before.

As artist Chazz Miller reminded me recently, "There's no new idea under the sun. It's just up to us to put our own view on them."

Which is why I'm a big fan of what Noah's doing. Not only is he a talented photographer with a refreshing point of view, he's also a pretty smart dude. With each portrait, he writes a little story. His story about Janet is so right on, I just gotta share it here:

"I used to live up the street from Miss Jones' establishment. I would stop in from time to time. Miss Jones would ask how I was doing and I would reply enthusiastically that I was 'Ahh, ya know. Still not dead...'  

The conversation would often shift to the state of affairs in Detroit. I would complain about how un-cosmopolitan Detroit was; how businesses closed too early in the day; how there was a general lack of ethnic, cultural, and intellectual diversity. I would then fantasize to Miss Jones about moving to some other shining, bustling metropolis that had everything Detroit lacked. Maybe then I would feel more like I was living as opposed to just circumventing death.

After all my bellyaching, Miss Jones would just matter-of-factly reply,  

'No matter where you go, there you are.’"

-Noah Stephens via The People of Detroit.

Remembering Colin Hubbell

Watch colin in Activism & Non-Profit  |  View More Free Videos Online at Veoh.com

Video by Tom Hendrickson for the Colin Hubbell Fund.

Written Friday, August 22, 2008:

One of my last e-mails from Colin Hubbell said only this: “You are the bestest in the whole wide world!”  I’m not naïve enough to think that I was the only girl (or guy, for that matter) to receive such a message from him.   But I still swooned.  I always did whenever I saw him.  He was “love” and “cool” personified.  I adored him so.

The last card I gave him said, “Please stop stalking me.”  It was a joke, of course – one of the highlights of my week was when he sauntered into the shop to pick up his mail and shoot the shit.  Even on the days he was dragging from chemo or radiation, he was still full of charm & charisma.  He would tell me how proud he was of his children, or the latest news about his development projects, or his take on the state of the city.  And he would listen with interest when I would spin my dreams about the neighborhood.  He was one of the few who shared my optimism and sense of urgency. I loved that about him.

So we were roommates.  Or rather, I was his.  When I went to him in the summer of 2006 with my hair-brained scheme to open a retail shop on West Canfield Street, he didn’t try to talk me out of it.  He was on board from our very first conversation.  And when I look back on those initial chats, he really had no proof at all that I could actually pull it off. But for absolutely no good reason, he believed in me – and by the winter we had negotiated a plan:  I would open my shop in his office space on the ground floor of the Canfield Lofts – one of his projects, one of Detroit’s first loft conversion projects, and also, incidentally, my home. 

For me, it was a dream come true -- my own shop in my own building!  Not only would my “downstairs” commute mean I would have the lightest carbon footprint in all of Southeastern Michigan (yay me!), I would also have the coolest roommate/landlord, bar none.  And believe me, for a new business owner who doesn’t know what the heck she’s doing, having someone like Colin in your corner makes all the difference in the world.

So we opened the following spring.  And I’ll never forget the first thing he bought – a print for his wife, Trish.  It was a picture of two bicycles with a heart in the middle.  Oh, how I loved him for this!  He told me all about how before they had kids, when they were poor newlyweds, they would take long bike rides around the city.  He told me how the city was so different then.  It also reminded me of the first time I met him at Cityfest – he rode up to the City Living tent on his bike looking like an urban hippie on a mission. He was like this wonderful angel with attitude.

You know how some people just “get” it?  Well, Colin was one of these people.  They are so few and far between, not a day goes by that I don’t count Detroit’s lucky stars for him.  He was grassroots and gratitude and gung-ho all the way.  When others didn’t really get the “ground-up” spirit of our new experiment called Detroit Synergy, he did.  (Of course he did!)  When I feared others wouldn’t understand my indie retail aspirations, I knew he would.  (Of course he would!)  And on days when the shop was slow or I was feeling a little punk, he would pick me up with his lovely foul mouth and his lovelier warm hugs.

Watching him perform “Lean on Me” at his “First 49^th Birthday Party” at Traffic Jam & Snug with his gorgeous daughter at the mic and a crowded room full of friends and family was one of the most touching moments of my life. I had to step outside, I was so verklempt.

And I am verklempt today, knowing that Detroit has lost one of its finest. Please keep stalking me, Colin Hubbell! You are welcome to come hang out in the shop anytime.  The second stool behind the counter will always be reserved for you…

Simon Says

David Simon is a national treasure. I will read or listen to anything he says. Even if it's devastating, which it usually is. After I watched this interview with Bill Moyers, I was blue for days. But he is a truth-teller of the highest order, and more people should pay attention.

Hall of Fame

We all need heroes, and these are some of mine. The first time I heard Samuel Mockbee speak in college, it completely rocked my world. Ditto Bill Strickland years later. Seeing Jane Jacobs talk at the New York Public Library was one of those once-in-a-lifetime moments I'll never forget. And Kunstler's TED talk is still one of my very favorites ever.

These folks are like my "Dream Team" cabinet if I was ruler of the universe. I keep their words close for inspiration.

On Beauty

"The Story of Manchester Bidwell" (35:32)

by Bill Strickland (TED Talk, 2002)

"People are a function of their environment. Everyone deserves beauty, not just rich people."

On Suburban Sprawl

"Dissecting Suburbia" (19:48)

by James Howard Kunstler (TED Talk, 2004)

"The suburbs are the greatest misallocation of resources in the history of mankind."

On Environmental Justice

"Urban Renewal in the South Bronx" (18:33)

by Majora Carter (TED Talk, 2006)

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. Oppose destruction with creation."

On Urban Planning

"Urban Reinvention Curitiba, Brazil" (15:40)

by Jaime Lerner (TED Talk, 2007)

"The city is not the problem, it's the solution. Not only for a country, but for the problem of climate change."

On Sustainable Design

"Cradle to Cradle Design" (20:03)

by William McDonough (TED Talk, 2005)

"What we seek is a delightfully diverse, safe, healthy and just world, with clean water, air, soil and power, that is economically, equitably, ecologically, and elegantly enjoyed."

On Creativity

"Nurturing Creativity" (19:32)

by Elizabeth Gilbert (TED Talk, 2009)

"You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."

On Architecture

"The Rural Studio" (4:39)

by Samuel Mockbee (Interview, 2000)

"Architecture has to be greater than just architecture. It has to address social values.”

On Cities

"Death and Life of Great American Cities" (2:57)

by Jane Jacobs (Interview)

"We do need places to come together. Casual encounters with one another are important in learning trust, and learning to be civilized in the use of the public space.”