Flash mobs, race relations, and ignorant mayoral comments

I heard about it on a beautiful, peaceful Sunday afternoon while playing frisbee with some friends across the street from the Nelson-Atkins museum. "Did you hear what happened on the Plaza last night? A mob of hundreds of teenagers descended on it. The police came out in force and even had to use pepper spray to break it up."

It was shocking. This didn't sound like the Kansas City Plaza. When I later watched the video footage, my heart sank even more. Even though the reporters' words continue to call the mob "unruly teenagers," the video reveals something more. It was a group of black teenagers. I could almost feel the racial tension instantly rise in this city that already struggles with racial tension.

Hoping my fears were misplaced, I brought up the story in my classes today. At Kansas City Kansas Community College, the majority of the student population is African-American, and I knew my students would have opinions.

I showed them the short news video footage from this morning, and their reactions were immediate.

"Oh, I see. It was a bunch of BLACK teenagers. That's why people were scared."

"Is this why they don't want us in the Power and Light District? Now they're going to start a dress code for the Plaza, too."

And then, after Mayor Funkhouser's unfortunate comment (he does seem to make a lot of those), "We had sort of a Westport night in the Plaza," the reaction was strong.

"See. There they go, blaming the black people."

And it's true. Scroll through the hundreds of comments, and you can see the inevitable. A large number of people are insulting the African-American community, blaming the race at large for the unruly teenagers.

Several of my students were incensed at the teenagers' behavior,

"If they're going to act like idiots then that's the way they'll be treated and they deserve it," one said with many nodding in agreement.

When mob mentality takes over, people do stupid things. I'm concerned for the teenagers that got carried away with this, for the Plaza patrons and residents, and especially for the health of inter-racial cooperation, respect, and relationship in Kansas City. This could pull us apart even further, or it could force us to work together with open minds and the perseverance to seek real solutions beneficial to all.

I gave all my students the assignment to read the latest reports from this story and be ready to discuss their thoughts and reflections tomorrow. I will share their feedback on this blog.

Two wheels are better than four

Over the last two days, I've seen a different Kansas City than what I've ever seen before.

On most days, I'm a highway driver. I set my course based solely on the fastest route to my destination. I'm in the northland and want to go to the Plaza? No problem. Jump on the interstate and presto, 20 minutes later I'm there. It was as if a stretch of concrete or asphalt and maybe some heavy traffic was all that separated one point of interest from another.

But yesterday, I joined some friends (who all know the city better than I) on a bike tour which started in Westport, meandered down through the east bottoms, then circled back to downtown and then Westport again. Jason Steliga took the picture above during our bike tour. Can you name that bridge?

Moving slowly, open on all sides and above me, pedaling along backroads and trails, I discovered Kansas City. And you know what? It's beautiful, funny, ugly, sad, and amazing. Why have I never noticed before? Why the narrow habit of staring straight ahead and moving from box to box while enclosed in a box? This city is rich with color, variety, oddities, and flavor.

So today, instead of driving from my apartment in Grandview to the Ultimate game across the street from the Nelson-Atkins museum, I hopped on my bike and rode. Since bicycles and highways don't mix, I rode on streets I've never driven before. As I was pedaling, little things popped out at me: a little free-standing New York style bakery on Troost, a hot dog stand on Grandview Rd, a darling old neighborhood on Rockhill Rd. And a guy riding the funniest looking bike I've ever seen. Must have been an art student.

I discovered that, for the most part, the city's landscape changes gradually. I couldn't tell you when I left the suburbs and entered the urb. At which point exactly did the average home value jump from $70,000 to $500,00? When did the narrow, empty roads become wide and crowded?

So, I'm starting a new exploration. Next week, I'm going to bike to that hot dog stand and try it out. I'll let you know if it's any good.

Does our willful ignorance contribute to collateral murder?

A military video from an American Apache in Iraq in 2007 was posted a few days ago on Wikileaks, and independent online journalism site. The controversial video reveals the gunning down of two Reuters news staff, several unarmed civilians, and a family that drove in to try to help the wounded. The video has generated significant online conversation, and now even the international news conglomerates are picking up the story.

Emotions are running high in this debate. Many are outraged, others are jumping to the defense of American soldiers, claiming that this is not representative of reality and that those who have never lived through combat can not understand and have no place to judge.

With this much contoversy and heated debate, how could I not blog about it?

I watched the video. My stomach started churning in the first minute and I had to force myself to finish watching it. I don't know what sickened me more: watching the civilians gunned down, or listening to the soldiers who sounded like they were playing a video game.

I have never lived through combat. I have never even lived in a violent neighborhood, so I can not imagine the emotional and mental state of soldiers, charged with battling terrorism, living day in and day out in a hostile environment.

But that's just the point. We don't have to see it. That's the American way of life.

We can wake up in the morning and enjoy our cheap eggs and bacon without once asking ourselves what the true cost is of this cheap food, without ever visiting the unnatural, unhealthy, and painful lives animals are forced to live. We don't have to think about the various ways we rape and pillage the land and poison the world's water for our insatiable appetites.

After breakfast, we can choose our day's outfit from our closets stuffed with relatively inexpensive clothing without ever looking in the eyes of the children who labor 12-18 hours a day in sweltering factories producing our latest styles.

We can sip our coffee and savor our chocolate without considering the children sold into slavery so that those who harvest the beans can still turn a profit off the backs of this cheap labor.

We can flash our dazzling diamond earrings without ever sullying our hands with the blood that was shed over them.

And we can breathe peacefully and easily in an empire that sends boys and girls barely old enough to vote into combat on the other side of the world. We don't have to think about what it means to their fragile souls to be given the duty to kill. We don't have to live daily with the reality of the shattered lives on both sides of the weapon.

We are no more civilized, no less brutal than the very first humans. We're just better at shielding ourselves from the ugly truths. We turn our faces from what should sicken us to the core while rail against sports stars for setting a bad example for our children.

I don't know what I can do. I just know that I can't look away any longer.

Yes, Aliyah, there is a monster

"Are there really monsters, mommy?"

My daughter watched Monsters Inc. for the umpteenth time this afternoon. I told her that I didn't know, that I had never seen a monster, but that they may exist somewhere.

After she fell asleep tonight, the question returned to my mind. Are there monsters?

Tomorrow begins our fourth quarter at school. Last week over 80 new students enrolled in our adult education program designed to prepare adults for the GED and college. The instructors met with the students one-on-one for advising, and, as always, the students I met inspired me. One wants to open his own soul food restaurant, another wants to be a social worker so that she can help others who are struggling through the same system that she struggled through. One young man, under the question "what are your long-range goals?" wrote, "to be known, to be loved, and to be larger than life." Their eyes were bright and their faces revealed their enthusiasm. Several said, "I'm going to get it right this time."

My short history here predicts that not all of them will last through the quarter. A couple will be incarcerated, at least one will lose her home, a few will lose their motivation, family issues will relentlessly pull away several, and a couple will simply not show up one day and when we try to call them we will only reach disconnected lines.

I hate this truth. I rail against this reality. I want to fight like hell for each and every one of them. This is my monster.

But this monster is sly and elusive. Just when I think I've cornered him, I strike out and hit nothing but emptiness, then hear the low, sinister laugh behind me. Sometimes I think I have struck a near fatal blow only to discover that my sword has accomplished no damage whatsoever.

I cannot hurt the monster because he belongs to the students. I can walk with them into battle, I can suggest fighting techniques, I can equip them with weapons, and I can cheer for them. But they must fight him. They must kill him themselves.

Tomorrow, we take up arms and storm the castle. Beware, monster; your days are numbered.

The hidden rules of Kansas City

I've had a few offers of sponsorship, but I determined that they wouldn't quite cover my costs, so I'm holding out for something larger. $200,000 should do it.

In the mean time, here are a few hidden rules of Kansas City, as I see it:

1. Early to bed, early to rise. This rule doesn't take too long to learn, not when our most famous shopping district closes at 7 p.m. Seriously, what's up with that? Visitors to our city, especially those from other countries, need to be aware that staying up late is just not the norm here. Americans in general go to bed earlier, but midwesterners especially don't last long after the sunset. So, don't schedule late night business dinners or entertainment, and hit the sack early enough to make that sunrise tee time.

2. Kansas City is almost smack dab in the middle of the country, and so is our style of dress. The styles here tend toward the conservative, though not as stuffy or preppy as the east coast. And though some pretend to be trendy, the truth is that it takes a good while for new fashions to reach us, and by the time they do, they're somewhat watered down.

3. Drive friendly. Sure, we have our share of road rage, but more often than not Kansas City dwellers temper this rage, perhaps with the hopes that politeness on the road will cover a multitude of other sins. And we are definitely big believers in sin here.

4. It's ok to be vegetarian here. You'll be tolerated. Just don't flaunt it. The cuisine for which Kansas City is best known is its bar-b-que, so many natives take it as a personal affront when someone refuses to eat meant. They're just usually too polite to say so. If you find yourself at a meeting or event where there are no vegetarian options (and that is true for many restaurants here), you'll need a creative backup plan. Maybe order a side salad and during dinner steal away to the restroom to inhale a protein bar.

5. Don't get involved in the border war. You see, there's this thick red line that runs through the heart of Kansas City called State Line. Visitors don't even see it, but it's glaringly obvious to anyone who's lived here more than a month. There's a lot of good natured bantering between friends, family, and colleagues who live on opposing sides of The Line, but there are also some deeply held hostilities. The danger for you, visitor, is that it's not always clear which is surfacing in a given conversation, and even if you're sure it's more bantering than hostility, it can flip at the blink of an eye. So your safest bet is to just side step it. Don't join in, don't get between them, don't try to change the topic. In fact, now would be a good time to sneak away for that protein bar.

If anyone can think of others to share, we'd love to hear them.

If someone sponsored me for a year...

Today, I was talking with a friend about a book I'm reading, "Eat, Pray, Love," by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's the memoirs of the author's outer and inner journeys for a year as she spends 4 months in Italy eating, 4 months in India praying, and 4 months in Indonesia learning to love. This amazing venture was made possible by her publisher, who advanced her the money based on the book she would write about the experience (which is now a best seller, so everyone's a winner).

So my friend asked me, "what would you do, what would you write about, if someone offered to sponsor you for a year?" Wow! I didn't have an immediate answer, but couldn't stop thinking about the question. Here's what I've come up with...

A couple of months ago I wrote about Dr. Bethany Tucker's insights about the hidden rules that govern our lives. She was talking about differing rules between economic classes, but I was pondering the hidden rules between countries, specifically major cities in different countries. I once read a pamphlet written by the United States tourism board (or some such body) for our international guests, and one of the biggest sections explained Americans' obsession with and treatment of time. They warned that it was unacceptable in American culture to be more than 10 minutes late for a meeting or engagement without calling ahead. We are ruled be the clock and our calendars. The pamphlet continued with more details about this rule that I had never before considered, since it seemed perfectly natural to me.

So, I'd like to spend a month each in 12 major cities, immersing myself as much as possible into the life of each city, and try to unearth some of their hidden rules. It would be like a very challenging scavenger hunt. I'm thinking New York, Mexico City, London, Paris, Moscow, Hong Kong, Rio de Janeiro, Tokyo, Cape Town, Sydney, Nuuk, and Bombay. Maybe, if my insights were keen enough, the cities could use my research for their own tourism pamphlets.

Guess I'd better begin with Kansas City, though as a resident of this fair town, it may prove the most challenging. Any ideas about KC's hidden rules, or the hidden rules of your town? In my next post, I'll suggest a few that I see.

Keep going! You're wearing him down!

A student of mine saw this photo yesterday and said, "That's how I feel right now, struggling against all my problems." What a vivid image!

How many of us don't feel like this sometimes? Straining with all of our might, head down, muscles straining, while in the back (or front) of our minds is the realization, "there is absolutely no way in god's green earth I will ever budge any of this massive weight, and it's going to crush me."

Now, I thought about blogging about the smart and effective things to do when you find yourself in a situation like this. Walk away if at all possible, call on your friends, gather a support network, remember that if it doesn't kill you it'll make you stronger, blah, blah, blah. We all know all that, and to a certain extent, there's truth in each of those cliches.

But sometimes, darn it, the big fat guy is going to crush you, and you won't feel at all stronger afterwards. What do you do then?

Well, the only thing you can do then is to drag yourself out of the ring and go have some drinks with some others who have also felt the breath-snatching crush. I'm not talking about drowning your sorrows in booze. I'm talking about recognizing the damage in yourself and others. You may not feel stronger, but it can give you clearer vision to see those around you in a different, more humane light.

And after you've shared a couple of beers, a few tears, and a whole lot of laughter, get back out there and take on the big guy again. After all, he's slow and out of shape. You can take him!