How Will Your Degree Impact the World?

In the United States, graduation is an accomplishment that symbolizes many things. Whether it be accessibility to jobs, gifts from relatives or completion of long nights of academic work, graduation is a happy time for people. Recently, I attained my Masters degree. Walking across the stage and receiving my diploma was an emotional and triumphant moment. When I returned to the pew, I leisurely recalled my college graduation. The president of the University, a Jesuit Catholic priest, told us that we had joined the ranks of the 1% of the world's population that have a college degree. Then my mind traveled to a conversation that took place in one of my graduate classes. We were discussing the relevance and significance of ethnic studies programs. Of course, as usual, I was in the minority and most of my classmates claimed that these programs are not as important as "traditional" courses of study.

All of this was going through my mind as I sat and watched my peers cross the stage and receive their diploma. Graduation, more specifically, the actual attainment of Bachelor's, Masters, doctorates, etc. should remind us of our extreme privilege and responsibility to others. We are amongst an elite group. Indeed, an MBA does afford you the opportunity to work at a huge Fortune 500 company and make a six-figure salary, but what impact does that have on the rest of OUR world. As the millennial generation, I hope we all consider our world as larger than ourselves, our homes or our neighborhoods. Thanks to technology and globalization, frankly, I have more in common with girls living in Johannesburg than my peers from Westchester County. As I reflect on my two degrees at 23, I'm wondering how my career will impact the other 99% of the world. Furthermore, in addition to identifying as a millenial, I also strongly identify as an African American. My racial identity brings an even heavier burden for me to carry. As millenial people of color, we must be more aware of our privilege because at some point in American history, someone leveraged their privilege to pave the way for us. Why did I study African American Studies as an undergraduate and continue to focus my research on black girls? Because without knowing our history and understanding this racialized society, I cannot help young people conceptualize, develop and express their strengths. I'm not proposing that everyone quit their jobs and join the Peace Core (although that's great!) but I am still challenging our generation to use our degrees to tear down historically oppressive boundaries that continue to contain that 99% that may not have the power to do so.

Also, I am now a contributing blogger for FWDNation.com so please take a look at the site and give us your feedback!

Proverbs 31 Woman

When I sit down and explain my research topic to people, many look very confused. The term that sparks the bewildered faces is “public space.” My research question is “how does the social capitol of adolescent African American girls affect their integration into public space?” I am reading, conducting interviews and analyzing my findings to figure out how relationships with young men, oftentimes the perpetrators of violent crimes in urban areas, influence girls voluntary involvement in their community. A leading scholar in discourse about the intersection of gender and public space is Dolores Hayden. Although she focuses mostly on feminist implications rather than racial, while reading her book, Redesigning the American Dream: Gender Housing, and Family Life, I felt like an angry black woman.

She identifies the restrictive boundaries of public and private space. She argues that since the 19^th century, a woman’s place has been in the home – not in the city, and definitely not in the city without her husband. Women that were seen in the city alone were considered prostitutes and undesirable. Fast-forward to present day, Hayden that argues not much has changed. Women still experience a distinct vulnerability when entering public spaces alone because a fear of being physically, verbally or sexually assaulted.

Similar to most feminist scholarships I read, Hayden is looking at the world through a white woman’s lens. In the 19^th century, black women in America did not have an option to feel safe or unladylike in or outside their home because we were slaves for most of that century. In modern times, most crimes against black women tend to be reflected back on us, and we are portrayed as “wanting it” or “having no business being there at that time.” Hayden also addresses urban advertising and how women tend to be presented in a sexually suggestive, helpless or disempowered way. At least for white women, they are able to turn on a television and movies and see women such as Meryl Streep, Angelia Jolie and Hilary Clinton portrayed as strong and influential characters and public figures. While young black women see accomplished actresses such as Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer, but never see them playing something other than drug-addicted mother or maid. Let’s be honest there are more basketball wives, Nicki Minaj’s, and video vixens saturating mainstream media than Michelle Obama’s. I’m not saying this to knock their hustle, but I am just trying to figure out when this assault on black women will end? Last year, I saw the below image on blog sites

The child is barely walking and talking and is already victim to the acceptable subjucation of black women. My research focuses on adolescent African American women that are dealing with inaccess to resources and the basic public space in their community. On top of abstract barriers such as lack of role models in the media, young black women in Bayview/Hunter's Point and similar neighborhoods in America's major cities have to deal with wreckless, persistent and senseless violence.

Although my data is not large enough to be a representative sample, it does present a glimpse of 20 young women's reality. I'm working on writing a policy prescription to address the effects of this violence on girls; but in the meantime, I've tried to make some change on a smaller scale. Proverbs 31 has been a popular scripture in many women's groups that I've experienced. It is full of beautiful language and essentially, very high expectations for us as young women to meet. But we can. Take the time to share the scripture and reaffirm the beauty, strength and potential for young women.

Proverbs 31:10-31

New International Version (NIV)

 ¹⁰ A wife of noble character who can find?
   She is worth far more than rubies.
¹¹ Her husband has full confidence in her
   and lacks nothing of value.
¹² She brings him good, not harm,
   all the days of her life.
¹³ She selects wool and flax
   and works with eager hands.
¹⁴ She is like the merchant ships,
   bringing her food from afar.
¹⁵ She gets up while it is still night;
   she provides food for her family
   and portions for her female servants.
¹⁶ She considers a field and buys it;
   out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
¹⁷ She sets about her work vigorously;
   her arms are strong for her tasks.
¹⁸ She sees that her trading is profitable,
   and her lamp does not go out at night.
¹⁹ In her hand she holds the distaff
   and grasps the spindle with her fingers.
²⁰ She opens her arms to the poor
   and extends her hands to the needy.
²¹ When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
   for all of them are clothed in scarlet.
²² She makes coverings for her bed;
   she is clothed in fine linen and purple.
²³ Her husband is respected at the city gate,
   where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.
²⁴ She makes linen garments and sells them,
   and supplies the merchants with sashes.
²⁵ She is clothed with strength and dignity;
   she can laugh at the days to come.
²⁶ She speaks with wisdom,
   and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
²⁷ She watches over the affairs of her household
   and does not eat the bread of idleness.
²⁸ Her children arise and call her blessed;
   her husband also, and he praises her:
²⁹ “Many women do noble things,
   but you surpass them all.”
³⁰ Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
   but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
³¹ Honor her for all that her hands have done,
   and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I read this poem as a teenager. Now, as an adult, I understand.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings / Maya Angelou

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Samba

Hello everyone,
I'm nearing the end of my MA in Urban Studies program. During this past summer, I realized that the classes I had taken cultivated a better understanding of my concentration, globalization and the city. I decided to take a Latin American Studies course to help me better understand how people from Latin America and their culture fit into American culture and the study of cities.

Last night, in my Latin America and Latino Cultures class, our country of discussion was beautiful Brazil. The name itself conjures images of vibrancy, euphoria and many of the cultural traditions highlighted in Alma Guillermoprieto's Samba.                 

Sociopolitical analysis of 1930s/1940s Brazil, on the other hand, conjures images of dictatorship, oppression and class stratification, which were implicitly expressed in our other book for the week Clarise Lispector's An Apprenticeship or the Book of Delights.

This blog entry is not a book review, however. I left the class wrapping my simple mind around how a class discussion initiatially based on the the sensual and passionate movement of samba morphed into talking about trauma. Guillermoprieto immersed herself into Brazilian culture, paying close attention to the evolution and consumption of samba. (Yes, I am extremely intentional in using the word consumption.) Samba was started by Afro-Brazilians. Over time, samba became more mainstream and huge (and lucrative) national fairs showcased the dancers. In this book, Guillermoprieto documents the dedication and pride that the Afro-Brazilians have for the samba art, costumes, makeup, and performers. Samba literally consumes their lives. Conversely, Brazil completely consumes samba. The samba dancers and teachers have so much joy for the art. Simultaneously, Brazil is under the leadership of a military dictatorship. These same people are living in grave poverty. Essentially, the colorful, fun and traditional dance that helps Afro-Brazilians preserve their history, is the same dance that their aristocrats commodify and exploit.

As a young urbanist/sociologist/over-analyzer, I often assert that in order to sustainably "develop" or "modernize" a country, we must study that country's culture. Studying the culture and social networks will enable developers to avoid providing economic development prescriptions that work on an anomaly (such as the United States), and instead, empower the people to reconstruct their own structures for more productivity. In the 1930s and 1940s, the people of Brazil were using their power to perform samba to fuel Brazil's tourist economy. At some point, and I don't know when, the performances became a commercial product. As we dove deeper into dialogue about the costumes and makeup, we juxtaposed the samba community to the inhumane power structures in Brazil; I was appalled. Frankly, the bright makeup of samba performances reminded me of the black faces in minstrel shows here in the United States.

Then, the problem got deeper and hurt my core. As a naive urbanist/sociologist/over-analyzer that advocates to put culture atop the list of considerations in a development project, I struggle with the question of

"How do we incorporate culture into a modernization process?"

As conflicting thoughts filled my mind, the next logical question was "who is this 'we'" The colonized, colonizers and their respective descendants each have a different perception of "we." Each group has an intricate history that must be considered. Additionally, in all perceptions of the history, we must acknowledge the trauma of slavery and colonization in Brazil, other developing countries and, honestly, in the United States. Essentially I realized, as Professor Benavides brilliantly said, we are all just trying to make sense of something, but [our conclusion] is culturally specific.

That's my issue today. How can we incorporate the trauma? Furthermore, do we (ALL OF US) even acknowledge the trauma and how it still affect us today? I'll pray on that and write again soon.

A Scripture to Start the Day

I read my Daily Bread today and the scripture was so warm. Read it. Then, think about how encourage and display welcoming hospitality. I often refer to myself as "anti-social," but as much as I pretend to keep to myself, I love being around people. While reading this verse, I had to reflect on relationships in my life that aren't going to well. Am I really showing God's unconditional love? Or holding a meaningless grudge? Who knows.

Romans 12:9-21
⁹ Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. ¹⁰ Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. ¹¹ Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. ¹² Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. ¹³ Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.  ¹⁴ Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. ¹⁵ Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. ¹⁶ Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. ¹⁷ Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. ¹⁸ If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. ¹⁹ Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,”^[b says the Lord. ²⁰ On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” ²¹ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Masking the Shame in NOLA

I'm still processing my immersion trip to NOLA. I feel conflicted with mixed emotions. Trying to understand my feelings, led to a free write and the first half of my personal statement for law school. Figured I'd share it with some pictures from my trip.

New Orleans was rough. I remember driving passed a high school. The date read: August 17, 2005.

How sad. After six years, the city of New Orleans, the state of Louisian nor our United States of America could figure out a remedy to mask the shame of Hurricane Katrina. Of course, in some areas like the Garden District – where the city’s wealth is concentrated in the pockets of the same people that abandoned the city that demonic day in 2005 – have completely rebounded. The city restored those beautiful homes. The city preserved

Bourbon Street

and the Superdome. The city was able to patch up the broken windows and eroded parks. The city has not patched up one thing though. The poor, mentally disabled, or socially rejected people on the streets and in the alleys. They have upgraded from what the rest of the country recalls seeing on August 29^th, 2005. Instead of waving white flags and surrendinering themselves for their country’s help, they wave cardboard signs that simply say “I just need a drink.” At organization where we worked, they wave the queen of hearts in a spades game because that is what they do to pass the time in between their doctor’s appointments because the people there have HIV. Why does it bother me so much? Because it took me flying across the country to know that my people are living in third world conditions in the richest country on Earth. While I was studying and stressing about the LSAT, my people are trying to find food, protect themselves from a corrupt New Orleans Police Department, and avoid cancer-causing FEMA trailers. Going to law school and attaining my BA and MA will allow me to go into places like NOLA and advocate for sustainable community development.



Cafe Reconcile



Literally, where the levees broke



At our home in NOLA



Greek Festival

Just one of our many adventures

Day 1 of Fieldwork - Interviewing

Hello everyone,
Once again, it has been too long. Since my last entry, I've moved back to SaN Francisco, CA to do my fieldwork for my thesis. So yes I finished finals, did my immersion trip, took the LSAT, started working at the law firm, and started my research. My life is hectic as usual.

I'm not writing to vent though, more so to share. I was supposed to start my interviewing the week I returned to the California. I called up my friend to schedule all of the interviews. She informed me that due to various murders taking place in the neighborhood, many of the usual students in the program, were not coming. We got off the phone and all I could do was cry.

Time and time again, my colleagues in my Masters program ask me how will I refrain from being subjective in my research. My immediate (and well rehearsed) answer is "I have taken my passions, researched them, and successfully translated them into scholarly discourse. Through semi-structured interviewing, I hope to prove my hypotheses." Meanwhile, on the inside, my heart is saying, teenagers are not supposed to grow up meeting death before they have met life. Too many of my childhood friends have been murdered or involved with the "turf war" lifestyle; while even more of my female friends and family members have been adversely affected by it. I don't need Elijah Anderson, Lois Wacquant or Jodi Miller to teach me these things because I've lived it. Further, my first attempt at meeting the respondents because the population of 14-18 year old girls living in this neighborhood are afraid to leave their homes.

It's not right. As a community member, I'm outraged. As a researcher, I'm intrigued. As a Christian, I am praying steadfastly that the Lord provide a resolve.

A month later, I was able to start my interviews. I prepared a binder that has all of my current research, approximately 30 pages of literature reviews and information on my methods and methodology. A counselor and I sat down to do the interviews and my hypothese are already being proven. Approximately half of the respondents live in the neighborhood of interest. They describe their community as "full of hopelessness."

I try to leave all of my blogs on a high note, but I'm still processing this whole experience, so I'll end with a request to simply pray for a young people growing with no hope. I pray that God will speak to them and let them know that they must be the change they wish to see.

Emotional Rollercoaster

As an undergraduate, I constantly complained about being extremely busy and not having time for myself. As a graduate student, I do not even have the time to complain. My last blog post was in February! Between work, classes, LSAT and my New Orleans immersion trip, I have not had much free time. So here we go with a brief update.

I will be home, reunited with friends and family in San Francisco on June 5th. 

Breana and Sonny came to visit for Mother's Day

I also start my field work that week. I'm working with a community center in Bayview/Hunter's Point, interviewing girls for my masters thesis. I'm also working this summer. So again, I should be stressed. The last 10 months has reiterated the fact, God has such a larger purpose for my life. 

Team OMA (Office of Multicultural Affairs)

When I tell people about the many obstacles I've had to overcome, they are literally amazed. Over the past few months, I've disclosed anecdotes about my life and attested to my unconditional love for God, and many of my students are surprised. They are confused how I can go through such things, talk comfortably about social injustice, and still believe that God has my back. I wholeheartedly believe that God puts you through trials, to make you stronger. With strength and wisdom, you can be someone else's angel. I've had many angel moments this semester.

One in particular has brought tears to my eyes many nights. Back in January, I met a student. He is a charismatic and passionate person, so we immediately connected. We converse about our similar family backgrounds, our love for new things and our desire to help people. When I told him about losing my mom, he shared with me that his mom also battled cancer. He empathized with me because he had to help his mother as a teenager, but fortunately, he helped nurse his mother back to good health. Two weeks ago, I was in a meeting with the student, and he didn't seem like his normal self. He told the group that his mother's cancer had come back and the doctors are giving her six months. As I attentively listened, I didn't even notice the tears running down my face. I could remember having the same heart-wrenching conversation with my mom's doctor and the end result. 

So what could I do? I, by myself, could not do anything. I prayed and asked God, "Can you use me to bless him?" At 18 years old, a doctor told me those same words and I was lost. Of course I related with the student. So how did God use me? Miraculously (because I don't read the Bible as much I should), I was able to say:

"Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" (Isaiah 40:31). 

"Be strong! Be courageous! Do not be afraid of them! For the Lord your God will be with you. He will neither fail you nor forsake you" (Deuteronomy 31:6).

And I hugged him. I gave him the tightest and warmest embrace that I could. I know that God is real and His love was in that hug! The same weekend that people are cheering with hearts of hatred because Osama Bin Laden was killed, we hugged each other and experienced God everlasting love flowing between us.  The past couple months have been some the hardest of my life, but it has only cultivated my testimony.

I don't share this to be audacious nor preachy. I share it to show God's power. Have you taken the time to share and cultivate your testimony? We are all amazing people -College students, graduates, young professionals, leaders in your respective field. We are achieving over and over again but how often do we take the time to reflect on the struggles in our lives? Take the time to think about stepping out of your comfort zone so that God can use you to touch people. 

While studying for my LSAT, I will be taking a giant jump out of my comfort zone and traveling to New Orleans, LA to live in a residential facility for people living with HIV/AIDS. Am I scared? Yes, but just about flying. I have no worries because I embrace the scripture "Be still and know that I am God." 

My NOLA team (missing a couple)

Just me exploring New York, NY (finally)

New Orleans on My Mind

Hi everyone!

I have finally, well almost finally, crafted my research question:

"How does the social capitol of adolescent African American girls affect their integration into public space?" I plan to answer the question through qualitative interviews with young people Bayview/Hunter's Point this summer.

I am extremely excited for my research because I can finally bridge the gap between my intellectual pursuits and my community. However, before beginning this summer, I am chaperoning a student group on a service-learning trip. 11 undergraduate students and I will go to New Orleans, Louisiana for 10 days. Interestingly, the trip’s activities directly reflect one of my sorority's newest initiatives, Social Justice and Human Rights. We will be living at the Lazarus Project. The Lazarus Project is a residential facility for people living with HIV/AIDS. Hurricane Katrina directly afflicted many of the residents. Our job is to listen to their stories, help execute daily services and gain a better understanding of New Orleans culture. 

I can really use your prayers and support while preparing for the trip. I know it will be tough emotionally, but it be a life-changing experience. I'm really really really excited to be immersed in the culture, people and history of New Orleans. 

Jambalaya

Louis Armstrong

Mardi Gras

Marie Laveau

New Orleans Saints

Add caption

Po Boy

New Orleans by Charles Perkins

If your American dream is painted on a canvas
Neatly folded in the corner of Andy Warhol’s mind
New Orleans is a hurricane beating down your coast

If you close your eyes
And feel the easy ride
Of the St. Charles Street Car
Where a solo tuba
Blows the scent of magnolia
Down narrow streets
and everyone plays possum with the heat
and no one’s too big or too small
to paint their tongue with a snowball

where former slaves pay homage to the first Americans
by masking in suits of rhine stones and bright colored feathers
that transform security guards into Indian Chiefs
doing rain dances on Congo Square
where the drums drum
and the wine drink
and the big chief sing
somebody give me a quarter
cause pretty big chief want some water

if you can envision the souls of yesterday
living in the music
that rises from the cracks in the sidewalks
New Orleans is your dream
With a heart as soft
As the spanish moss
Dripping from centuries old oak tress

She’s a pretty face with dirty feet
The good witch of lake Ponchartrain
The spice god of shrimp and crawfish
Keeping the spirits fed

Communities of windowless monuments
Masquerading as cemeteries
Tower above ground
No earth or worms to cover the flesh
No silver bullets to turn out the spirits
That still dance with her

Spin your umbrella
And wave your bandanna
It’s Mardi Gras time
And everybody’s happy

Armed with a blue print of civilization
The new world stormed in
With enough asphalt and cement
To pave a boulevard back to Paris

the spirit of the swamp still hasn’t submitted
Leaving mildewed kisses of disapproval
On every thing foreign to the wet lands

Catholicism could not turn out the spirit of Marie Laveau
The wrecking ball could not turn out the spirit of Storyville
And death could not turn out the spirit of Louie Armstrong
When yesterday hangs on to forever
Tradition is a temple.

Able-Bodied and Socially Just

Hello everyone!
It has been a long time! Unfortunately and fortunately, I have been extremely busy with school, work and navigating New York winter weather.

Merry Christmas

So many blog topics have come up over the past couple months but one in particular has been on my mind. Firstly, let me start with a small academic update. This semester is taking me deeper into to my masters thesis. In addition to taking a Research Design course, I'm taking an Urban Political Process class and a sociology course about Immigration. On the first day of my political science class my professor was flabbergasted when I told class that I aspire to be a politician. Because New York and San Francisco are so influential, controversial and popular, naturally, residents of each city are cynical and critical of their city politics. That's fine. I've been in love with the law and social change for a long time so there is no changing my aspiration. Reading various articles and books has made me more thoughtful about decisions made by our government, especially when basic social services are not offered to impoverished people living in these cities.

Working on a college campus, in an office dedicated to multicultural affairs, I'm constantly reminded of social identity. One political policy has really triggered and irritated me. The snowstorms in NY have made national news. I, along with other New York residents, have been highly upset with city's inefficient and ineffective methods to cleaning up the snow. Furthermore, I really don't like being cold or my feet getting wet as I walk the few blocks to school. As I was marching and trying to maintain my balance on countless yards of snow, I thought to myself, how would I get through this in a wheelchair? Or with a walking stick?

After I stopped and thanked God for blessing me to be physically capable to do this, I had to really stop and think of what type of civic servant will I be? Working solely for economic development is not enough. Fighting the good fight and advocating for racial equality is great. However, it is time for public servants, especially our elected officials to move passed the basics and incorporate all of their constituents. We hear it over and over again, be the change. Let's talk about it and be about it.

For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf

I finally saw the play turned movie For Colored Girls. One word describes my experience: heavy.

All my friends that had saw it before me, said I would leave the theater feeling really depressed and angry. However, I left feeling inquisitive and inspired. I don't want to spoil the film for anyone that has not seen it, but the film unmasks many issues that plague African American girls and women. These criminal, physical, emotional and health issues are rarely discussed in the African American community. Seeing all the problems happening simultaneously was indeed overwhelming. Black girls and women experience these problems simultaneously.

These experiences go on unnoticed by society and policymakers for many reasons. The emphasis on discretion in black families, lack of trustworthy reporting centers and, quite frankly, no money to pay for medical care are just a few. Violence was involved in many of the stories described in the film, but none of them women were criminals. When looking at urban violence, policy makers and researchers tend to look at girls and women that are in group homes or correctional facilities.

That is where I come in. If you have not seen the movie, please go see it! If you have seen the movie, don't leave it thinking "wow, Tyler Perry made black men look terrible." Consciously, think about the critiques of political, social and economic systems embodied in the male characters. The stories seem far-fetched, some maybe, but I have seen many in my own community.

My research will take me into Hunter's Point and start investigating what's really going on in the lives of these girls. A scholar that has done a qualitative study with African American adolescent girls is Jody Miller in Getting Played.

I'm back and busy as ever!

It has been too long since my last blog entry. The last time I sat down to write one, it was full of stability and happiness. But me being Courtney, everything is always changing!

I am still HAPPY as ever!

Kendra visited from Boston this weekend 10/17/10

Funny dinner at 1300 Fillmore in SF 10/9/10

I took a trip back home two weekends ago to celebrate the homegoing of my Aunt Mary. She passed away about three weeks ago, so I went home to be with my family and make sure we were celebrating and NOT grieving. In Psalms 34:18, the Bible says, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Later in Psalms 37:39, the word says "The salvation of the righteous comes from the LORD; he is their stronghold in time of trouble." My aunt is no longer plagued with many illnesses. She is happy and doing her happy dance with my mom.

Before leaving for San Francisco, the most wonderful city in the world, I pitched my research idea to my program director. Remember the idea I was so excited about? Studying the effects of natural disasters on people of African descent in the Bronx (and in New Orleans). Yes, social justice at its best. She loved the idea and posed probing questions to me to better understand the topic and where I should go with it. As we spoke, I realized that I would be immersed in this literature and topic for 15 months. Instead of thinking of what will look good to law school, I literally handed her my bibliography to throw in recycling and told her what my urban studies heart's desire is. My masters thesis will focus on the effects of urban violence on adolescent girls in Hunter's Point, San Francisco.

I know too many people that are affected by the violence that takes place in Hunter's Point. As I matriculate further in my MA program, we are continuously reading about violence/poverty in distant developing countries on the world's periphery or American megacities like New York, NY and Los Angeles, CA. While San Francisco always invokes images of joy, hippies, fog, the Golden Gate Bridge and an overall happy atomsphere. There's a need for research on Hunter's Point to expose the serious environmental, social, economic and downright humanistic inequalities taking place there.

My number one inspiration for the thesis, as usual, is my younger sister. Before my mother passed away on November 24, 2006, Breana (then 16) had already lost four close friends to gun violence. I believe two were involved in gang violence but one girl was not. She was walking to her grandmother's house, right off 3rd Street, and was shot. This girl was an academic athlete in high school and working hard to go to college. We have read the literature on what we thinks makes these young black men enter lives of crime, but what about the young girls that are caught in gunfire while walking to school? What about the female friends of the teenage boys that are murdered? What about the girl that grows up in a single-mother household because her teenage father was murdered? Is there a connection between urban violence and young black girls in Hunter's Point's America Dream of being a baby mama and living in government housing for the rest of their lives or until the baby's father gets out of prison?

I will conduct field study, interviewing girls and women in Hunter's Point next summer.

In the meantime

The highlight of my week were the great meetings I had between Wednesday at noon and Thursday at noon.

My first appointment on Wednesday at noon was successful. Before arriving, however, I had another run-in with NY MTA. I went to Google maps and typed in the address for directions to my two interviews. To ensure I went the most precise route, I went to the NY MTA website. Using those directions I went to wait for the public transit. I was waiting for the "NY commuter train." Surprisingly, it was a real train.... I was nervous because I had a ticket for the subway but I thought, be bold and just get on. I get on the train and the security guard asks for my ticket. Of course, not the right ticket. He said he would give me a ticket and I could pay the city later. Praise God - the train came to my stop. The man had not come. So I blended into the crowd and made my way to the interview. Karma hit me. I got lost and end up being 15 minutes late to the interview.

Fortunately, the office of City Councilmember Gale Brewer was warm and welcoming

She represents the Upper West Side. When I start working there, I will be part of the legislative/budgeting sector and the housing development department!

After that interview, I safely and quickly made my way to the Gap on 5th Avenue for my next interview. It also went extremely well! I'll be working in the Men's store of the Gap on 5th Avenue. So come and visit!

On Thursday morning, I met with the African American Studies department chair at Fordham University. After talking about the unique and untold history of the Bronx, I decided to focus this semester's research on the neighborhood. I will be investigating the different housing developments that have (or have not emerged) for low-income families after the 1970's city fires.

Since I'll be studying my surrounding community, I plan to intern at an agency that aims to solves the Bronx housing development issues. The Women's Housing and Economic Development Corporation works directly with the people and provides usable and tangible resources. I'm interviewing there this week... Wish me luck!

The Rough Life of Courtney Ball

Hey everyone!
I missed the second week of blogging... Why do you ask?! Let me take a second and vent one last time about last weekend.

I went to visit my sorority sisters at University of Amherst and at Boston University. As I made my way back from a long weekend of fun and laughter, I was excited yet anxious about taking the bus to Manhattan Chinatown because I did not have subway directions to get me home. When I arrived, I said "Courtney, you're a New Yorker now. Just get on the subway and figure it out." I walked down the steps to the gloomy subway, which smells of the now familiar stench of dirt, filth, and mystery, but felt confident that I could find my way home. I got on the subway, made it to Fordham Rd station. Unfortunately, there are two Fordham Rd stations, but a-ha! I was still in a familiar part of the Bronx so I walked to the bus stop.


Let me rewind, as I'm making my way home, it is pouring profusely. I am wearing one my signature pink and green dresses with cute gold sandals. I power-walked to the bus stop but noticed all the streets were blocked. So, I waited for 15 minutes and became highly irritated. I walked the mile home, in the rain, with a dress and my glasses on. I could see though! I just kept doing the windshield-wiper move on my glasses so they would clear.

I wasn't happy at all. Used the picture for the pink and green

Long story short, I was sick most of last week and had to presentations in my classes. I think I won the class over with my charm and story of walking in the rain though. In my classes, we're discussing the correlation between mega-cities (cities of 8 million people or more) and the slums that most people live in in those cities. Very sad stuff but a trend we will continuously see in a capitalist/globalized world.

I've narrowed my masters thesis too. I'm leaning towards the effects of natural disasters on land use development in urban areas. I hope to either study Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans or the earthquake in Haiti. I would spend most of next summer in New Orleans or Haiti. What do you think?!

New Orleans?!?!?!

or Haiti?!?!?!!?

Hello family and friends!
I have been in New York for a little over a week now. I miss you all and San Francisco very much! Even though I graduated from USF and spent four years living away from home, I feel like a freshman all over again. It's exciting and scary all at the same time. I live in a really nice/empty apartment, in a vibrant and cultural neighborhood - across the street from Fordham University.

Over the past week, there have been a few frustrating and lost times. I took, well, attempted to take the bus to Target. Got off at the wrong stop and walked the mile to Target in 95 degree heat. Thanked the Lord when I arrived at Target and felt the air conditioning! Thanked Him again when I found some cheap queen-size sheets. Got back to my apartment after arguing with the bus driver (buses cost an inconvenient $2.25 and the crap doesn't take dollars) only to realize that I bought a bedskirt - not sheets. Just lovely!

This was just one day of the seven of my new life out here in NY. I started the blog to keep in touch with everyone and chronicle the amazing things I do here. I plan on blogging every Sunday. I'll keep funny and optimistic. At the same time, I want you all to learn, as I learn, about my field of Urban Studies.

(That could be me up there in Spain!)
BTW, I plan on studying abroad next summer. GASP! I know, but feel free to leave suggestions!