Mendolonium

A couple of weeks ago as Jeff and I sat snacking and discussing our “favorite” topic of conversation – schools – we heard the Pasadena police helicopter begin to buzz overhead.  I know that the helicopter serves a purpose, but I have to admit that I loathe it – I find it impossible to relax or feel safe when it drones overhead like an overgrown mosquito – the sound of the blades signaling that there is yet another criminal to pursue.  There has been a dramatic increase in crime in and around our neighborhood over the past year and it is now common to hear the helicopter circling over our house three or four times a day – annoying enough during the “short” stints of a few minutes of searching and deeply troubling when it flies above for hours – seeking but never finding its prey.  That evening a couple of weeks ago was such a night and after two hours of listening to the helicopter, checking to make sure the house was tightly locked and the alarm system armed, Jeff and I were both noticeably anxious and jumpy wondering what had transpired.

The next morning we found out the grisly details:  a young man had been shot and killed about one third of a mile from our house.  This murder followed three other shootings within half a mile of our house since January of this year.  Then there was also the armed robbery two blocks from the park on the same day of the murder and the armed robbery the week before at the park.  The week after the murder there was a stabbing on the train.  And let us not forget the burglary of our own house in January and the burglaries of dozens of other houses in the neighborhood over the past year.  The phone number to the police department is now programed into my cell phone on speed dial and I have called at least a half a dozen times this year about suspicious cars, drug deals, and kids at the park drinking and bragging about the houses they have broken into.

I distinctly recall one hot July day when Thomas was about eight months old.  Thomas was  particularly fussy and refusing to sleep and so we took him out on a late night walk.  We walked and walked in the refreshingly cool air.  Thomas didn’t fall asleep but the night refreshed us all and Jeff and I chatted happily while Thomas calmly looked around in the stroller.  We didn’t get home until after midnight.  I can’t even count the number of times we’ve taken the train to the farmers market or out to dinner and walked back home well after dark.

We won’t be doing either of those things any more.  We just don’t feel that our neighborhood is safe anymore.

We’ve been thinking about moving, applying for and interviewing for jobs out of state for a couple of years now.  And although we have both had job offers, in the end we decided that we wouldn’t be happier in those particular locations.  Now our equation for happiness has another consideration.  I don’t think that I can be fully happy living somewhere that I don’t feel safe going out after dark.  I don’t think that I can be happy hearing the helicopter overhead two, three, or four times a day.  I don’t think I can be happy when my son asks me when we leave the house, “Mama did you set the alarm, I don’t want any bad guys to get in while we’re gone.”

We don’t know exactly what to do, but we know that we can’t stay here indefinitely anymore.  In the words of one of my neighborhood friends, we need an exit strategy.  So with heavy hearts we have formulated Plan A and Plan B.  Plan A is looking at a few areas to target an intensive job search (right now Portland, Omaha, and Northern VA are under consideration with some Wisconsin and New England possibilities).  However, there is absolutely no guarantee (especially in this shitty economy) of actually finding good job(s) in those areas.  So Plan B is to consider selling our house sometime in the next year and then move to a nearby city with low crime and better schools (assuming we actually find a city with what we believe are better schools – we will be taking tours this fall).  It isn’t clear whether we would buy or rent a house under Plan B.  Both of us are still quite firm in our belief that the housing market has a great deal further to fall, yet renting might send me over the edge of sanity.  Both buying or renting a house in a safer, better school district would cost us considerably more than what we are paying now.  We could afford it – if I worked more and the kids spent more time at daycare – not something any of us want; hence the reason Plan A is our first choice.

In the end, we may be forced by circumstances to choose none of the above and simply stay here.  If it wasn’t for the crime and school issues staying here wouldn’t be keeping me up at night.  I like our house and despite the prevailing American cultural notion of “bigger is better” I am mostly content with the idea of raising three children in a two bedroom house.  In the words of one of our other neighbors who grew up in a rather ghetto area of Los Angeles – this level of crime (and worse) is a way of life in most of the world.  Maybe this is the new normal and we just have to deal with it.

When I was in seventh grade, our math teacher called our class “retarded” for performing poorly on a math test.  My mother had taught us never to make light of disabilities and to be grateful for what we had.  I told her about the use of the word “retarded” for our class and she became quite rightly pissed.  She was offended on behalf our class and on behalf of the kids in our school who really did have developmental challenges.  My mother avoids confrontation like the plague but she called up the teacher and demanded that he apologize.  And he did.

I was feeling rather defeated when I fired off a letter to police Chief Sanchez on Monday night regarding the Pasadena police department’s handling of our burglary.  But my mother taught me to stand up for what you believe in and so remembering her example I did what I believed was right and spoke out.  I also copied my letter to our city council district representative.  We’ve had a rash of burglaries in our neighborhood and while the police have been responding to them it seems that the connections between the crimes were not being made nor was our neighborhood being given any extra police attention.  Each burglary was the proverbial piece of straw – insignificant on its own but cumulatively adding up to a weightier and weightier problem.  And apparently, my letter was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  Less than twelve hours after I sent the letter I received a phone call from the police commander in charge of communications.  She began with an apology and stated that our call was not properly prioritized.  She explained that the dispatcher was new – still in a probationary period – and did not follow procedure when responding to our emergency.  She stated that the dispatcher would receive a note in her file and would be retrained and that perhaps the entire dispatch team needed an update of training.  We talked at length about what the stresses on the police department due to increased crime, in particular burglaries, coupled with reduced budgets mean for the future of public safety in Pasadena.  She was open and honest and told me that the department has been lucky enough to avoid any officer layoffs, however, twelve support personnel have been let go in the preceding months and morale was affected.  She and I both used the phrase “new reality” to describe what the future will look like.  I thanked her for her candor and was left brainstorming ways that we, as citizens, can do more to work with the police.  A few hours later I received a call from the police chief himself, Phil Sanchez.  He apologized again for the extreme delay in responding to our call and for the officers’ nonchalance in handing our incident.  He has authorized additional resources to be placed in our neighborhood immediately and stated that he shared my concerns that these crimes could escalate if not dealt with swiftly.  In closing, he offered to meet with our neighborhood to discuss our concerns.  I then received an email from our city councilman who offered to further coordinate a neighborhood information session with the police.  At our neighborhood association board meeting tonight I spoke about our experience and our city council district representative showed up in person with more details on the police attention which will now be focused on our neighborhood.  And if you life in the neighborhood and want to know more then please show up to the Santa Catalina Library Branch on Saturday February 12th at 10:30 am where the police chief, council members Gordo and McAustin, and neighbors will discuss the crime epidemic plaguing us.

I truly appreciate and am impressed by how responsive the police chief and the city government have been to my concerns.  That said, we have a long way to go.  On Sunday night another nearby home was burglarized and ransacked.  Just last night there was a girl casing the neighborhood, pretending to solicit door-to-door while jiggling on doorknobs to see if they were locked.  When a neighbor called the police after she attempted to open his door, the police had not shown up after 45 minutes.  Clearly the police need to prioritize calls, not only by traditional urgency, but by location.  The police are urging citizens to call for every, even slightly, suspicious activity and if they want such calls to be meaningful they need to respond quickly.  But tonight, instead of feeling defeated, I feel determined.  The police are paying attention now and so are the citizens of Bungalow Heaven.

Your feet are going to be on the ground,
Your head is there to move you around, so stand.

I was having a good day last Friday.  I transplanted blueberries, sowed a cover crop of buckwheat, and weeded all the raised beds.  I was happy.  I was going to cook a new curry for dinner, but instead decided to treat our family with a dinner out at our favorite pizza restaurant followed by frozen yogurt.  The kids smiled and laughed through dinner.  We were feeling pretty good about life and then we came home.  I don’t think I can bear to re-hash the story one more time, but I thought that you might want all the details so instead of re-telling again and again it I will post below the letter I sent to Pasadena’s police chief tonight:

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I am a fourteen year resident of Pasadena and eight year homeowner in Bungalow Heaven.  On the evening of Friday January 28, 2011 my husband, children, and I arrived home at approximately 8:30 pm.  Upon entering the house we smelled a strong scent of men’s cologne and saw items out of place in our living room.  I was holding my 22 month old son in my arms and my four year old son by the hand.  I immediately realized that someone has been in our home, fled to a neighbor’s house, and called the Pasadena police department.  I reported to dispatcher that I did not know if the perpetrator(s) were still in the house and I feared for our safety, particularly my husband’s as he had entered the house while I left with the children. The police dispatcher told me that officers would be out as soon as possible. While I was on the phone my husband briefly walked through the house, saw that it was ransacked, and joined us at the neighbor’s. I have called the Pasadena PD on multiple occasions in the past for issues ranging from kids drinking/smoking at the park to a prowler at our house.  I have always been impressed by the speed and professionalism of the Pasadena police department.  On the evening of the 28^th I was surprised as the minutes passed from my initial call and there was no police response.  After approximately 10 minutes I called the Pasadena PD again only to be told that it was a “busy” night and they would arrive at our house as soon as possible.  I reiterated to the dispatcher that I did not know if the perpetrators were still in our home or  in the general vicinity.  The dispatcher was unconcerned and told me that the perpetrators were almost certainly gone by now.  I responded by saying that clearly the only possible way to catch the perpetrators was for the police to actually show up and look for them.  After another 10 – 15 minutes passed (now over 20 minutes since my initial call) I again called the police department only to be given the same statement about it being a busy night.  Then again, 40 – 45 minutes, after my initial emergency call I called the Pasadena PD and asked to speak with a supervisor.  The supervisor told me that the officers assigned to our call were finishing up a domestic disturbance and would be on their way shortly.  She attempted to reassure me by stating that the perpetrators were almost certainly gone by now.  I was not at all reassured, rather very disturbed that the Pasadena PD had not attempted to catch these criminals during the critical period during or shortly after a burglary.  More than 45 minutes after my initial call two officers arrived on our street.  My husband and I spoke with them briefly at the neighbor’s house and then the officers went to investigate our home.  After clearing the house the officers asked my husband and I to return to show them where items had been taken from. The house was ransacked and after pointing out several missing items I asked about the state of our garage (detached).  The officers stated that they had not yet looked in the garage.  I was shocked and immediately felt unsafe – that the officers had not even bothered to fully investigate our backyard or looked in the garage whatsoever.  The officers, my husband, and I exited into the back yard where we saw one of our ladders had been propped up against a cinderblock wall fence we share with our neighbors.  Almost certainly, that had been the perpetrators escape route.  I asked whether or not the officers were going to check on the neighbor’s house and/or interview them about suspicious activity and they said that they had no intention of doing so.

In addition to the obvious trauma of having my property stolen, my home invaded and ransacked, and my older son terrified I am shocked and dismayed by the slow and perfunctory response of the Pasadena police department and the officers who handled our case on the evening of January 28^th.  If the police do not respond in a timely fashion that clearly sends a message to the perpetrators that they can commit these crimes with impunity.   I am also very concerned that a slow response emboldens criminals to commit more serious and violent crimes.  A 45 minute response time is completely unacceptable.  Furthermore, the officers handled a potentially dangerous situation for both themselves and for us with inappropriate casualness.  I would think that for their own safety the officers would want to fully clear a property (including the backyard and the garage) before conversing with the homeowners.  I also expect the officers to investigate all possible leads by interviewing neighbors (such as the neighbor whose yard was likely used as an escape route).

I realize that burglary is, unfortunately, a relatively common and increasing crime.  However, I expect the police department to realize that for the homeowner such an event is never routine – it is terrifying.  Rather than being reassured by the police response, I was further dismayed by it.  I expect the Pasadena police department to make reasonable efforts to apprehend burglary suspects and prevent future crime.  I look forward to your response.

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The letter, doesn’t convey everything that has transpired over the past few days.  The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I briskly walked across the street to our neighbor’s house after immediately realizing that things were WRONG inside our house.  The panic in Thomas’ question as he asked, while we waited for the police, if they had taken his beloved Sally.  The utter relief of having such wonderful neighbors who let us into their home until 12:30 am and gave us DVDs, diapers, snacks, water, and reassurance for the boys.  The absolute certainty that I could not spend the night in our house so we fled down south to our in-laws who happily put us up despite being exhausted and sick.  The almost crazed feeling of needing to make our house a fortress.   The realization that every single piece of jewelry that I own save what I was wearing and a pearl necklace were all gone.  The black pearl Jeff surprised me with.  The first ring he ever gave me.  The earrings made from my grandmother’s pearls.  The jewelry I wore at our wedding.  The finding of dirty fingerprints outside Thomas’ window and the horrifying realization that the perpetrator(s) came in and out through that window and must have walked on Thomas’ bed.  The hours of phone calls with the bank, the insurance company, the phone company, security companies, and door and window companies.  The knowing that the stolen camcorder contained a tape of Theo’s first steps.  The endless questions from Thomas about “The bad guys in our house”, “The police are going to send them to jail right?”, and “Why did they take all the money out of my jars?”  The wondering if I will ever be able to be at peace in this house again.

This isn’t one of my usual posts wherein I discuss a problem and then talk about how we can fix it.  I don’t have any answers.  I only have questions and fear and sadness.  And I don’t know if I will ever get over this.

Three year olds are naturally self-centered creatures.  They take offense at the denial of another graham cracker like North Korea is offended by the denial of aid from the United States.  They think that a dearth of new toys is the worst poverty that a human being could suffer through.  Some of this is natural to the age and some of this attitude is innocence.  Hopefully, a three-year-old has never been exposed to true injustice and scarcity.  Yet as a parent, part of my job is to teach my children to show empathy and generosity.  Part of that teaching is to elucidate the concept of necessities – the things that every human must have in order to live the minimum of a humane life.  We’ve been talking about the concept of needs versus wants a lot lately in our house; debating what is truly necessary. Unexpectedly my debates with a three year old have fostered a great deal of thought in me and refinement in my definition of necessity.  I can really only think of three items that are absolute in their need:

• A community; perhaps, but not necessarily, encompassing family and friends.
• A clean, secure environment including shelter, clean water, clean air, clean soil and freedom from conflict, persecution, or abuse.
• Healthy, nourishing food.

Written out in three short bullet points these requirements seem so simple, so basic.  Of course, that is the point – that they are the bare basics and yet it is deeply disturbing how few people in the world truly have them.  Even those of us affluent in the United States may not truly have our needs met for clean air, water, and food.  When listed one after the other it is also obvious that needs are inseparable.  For example, one cannot grow healthy food without a healthy environment and it is the good stewardship of communities that keep environments safe.  No one need is more important than the other, but it is the last item, food, that occupies my thoughts.  I see injustice in food everywhere I go:  on school tours where students have no access to water during meals and instead must drink milk from a big industrial dairy if they are thirsty, in the perfectly edible and delicious half a pizza that lies uneaten at the restaurant table next to us that will be simply thrown away, at the total absence of places to purchase fresh food when I drive through the poor urban core of Los Angeles, to the hungry children on TV and in our own towns who live in a world with plenty of food to eat and yet they do not get enough.  More than any other issue,  the pursuit of healthy, nourishing food for everyone on the planet feeds (pun intended) my soul in a way that almost nothing else does.

Today I had the privilege of attending a symposium, “Bringing Home the Ranch”, at the Huntington Library and Gardens to mark the opening of a new urban agriculture research and eduction station, Huntington Ranch.  The symposium focused on the revival of sustainable urban agriculture and it was wonderful simply to be in the same room amongst so many people who were working towards that future.  Rose Hayden Smith gave a talk which provided an inspiring overview of “Victory” gardens over time.  She stressed that urban agriculture is not a new or odd idea; growing significant amounts of food within city limits has actually been the norm for most of history.  In particular, there were two items in her talk which were particularly memorable.  First, that the concept of eating locally originatied during World War I – a government publication actually encouraged citizens to embrace “local production and reduce the food mile”.  Sound familiar?  From the World War II era she presented a gem of a poster, “The Food Commandments”:

1. Buy it with thought
2. Cook it with care
3. Use less wheat and meat
4. Buy local foods
5. Serve just enough
6. Use what is left

Those commandments are just as relevant today as when they were first published 65 years ago.  In addition to others, Gary Nabhan also gave an excellent talk in which he encouraged us all to think of ourselves as “designers” of the food system.  Dr. Nabhan quoted the words of a friend, Fred Kirschenmann, “Change in our food system is coming whether we want it or not so the question is whether we want to be passive victims or plan to creatively act as players” Every time we choose what to eat, what to purchase, what to plant, and what seeds to save we are shaping the food system.

I have been searching for a long time, perhaps since I first became aware of the concept that people “did something” when they grew up, for focus in my life.  I don’t know how just yet, perhaps as a writer, a chef, a doctor, a farmer, or a policy maker, but the excitement and ease that I felt at the symposium cemented for me that food is what I should be focusing on.  Touring schools recently brought the Pledge of Allegiance into my thoughts again for the first time in years.  I mentally recited the Pledge and as the last line rang out, “…with liberty and justice for all”, I questioned, how can one have liberty if one is hungry?  We, as a society, should pledge more than just liberty, there must also be, “…with food and justice for all”.