Gallo Pinto

When I was in Santa Ana with Mom we stayed at Villa Antigua. Every morning for breakfast Denis' sister or another one of the women who worked there would get up and make gallo pinto for us.

I have been craving it so much recently that I decided the first real meal I would prepare in my new apartment would be gallo pinto. So after a two weeks of sandwiches, soup and other "on the go" food I actually went grocery shopping.

I bought beans and I soaked them. I bought cilantro and chopped it up really fine with an onion and a pepper. I bought rice and I fried it dry first, which according to the website is the true "tico" way to do it.
I called Mom and told her that if she brought over eggs in the morning I'd serve her a real Costa Rican breakfast. She showed up with eggs and I put the finishing touches on the rice and beans, pulled the toast from the toaster and poured two cups of coffee. "It smells right," said Mom. My little Cambridge kitchen smelled heavenly and exotic.

We each took a bite and then sighed a little. It was good. It was really good, we agreed. But it didn't taste the same.

"Of course it wouldn't," I lamented, "there are so many variations."
"Well someone who never had that version might think this is amazing."
"Yeah. But I still want to fix it."

So now I have to dig up Denis' email address. See if I can get the actual recipe. And when I do, you can absolutely come over for the best start to a morning you can ask for. As long as you bring the eggs.

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Mark 9:40 : Revisiting Brianna Karp

On Sept. 11th I posted about Brianna Karp and her "New Face of Homelessness." I received a lot of feedback about my opinions, both in person and in writing.
The one that caused me the most distress was this one, from Matt.

Reading this makes me very sad indeed.
She does not hold all the answers and neither do you or I but she is a deeply caring and courageous woman who wishes to help all those who are experiencing homelessness. I know this for a fact.
She should be both encouraged and supported by those who claim to have similar goals, not attacked for any shortcomings she may have.
"The vast majority of homeless individuals....want to work, and look for work"
Somehow you turned that into:
"And to intimate that only white, formerly middle class people are willing to work "and look for work," is offensive. It was an innocent mistake on her part, but offensive."
That is a massive leap for which I can see no grounds whatsoever. She 'intimated' nothing. Now THAT is offensive.
I choose to believe that your heart is in the right place too so instead of whining at her, how about getting behind her and helping her make the most of what I'm sure you will agree is a huge opportunity to do some real good?

Firstly, I would like to publicly apologize if I have come across as having all the answers. Because I know that I don't. I would like to apologize to Bri and to any of her friends and loved ones who think this was some sort of attack on her, because it wasn't meant to be. As I said in my post, I agree with the sentiment of her heart being in the right place. I would never hope that my words would take away from her courage or her caring or the fact that she is using her position to do positive things in the world.

The things I said were not meant to be malicious, but if they were interpreted that way then there is something wrong with the way I presented them. And so I will try again.

Bri never says that only white, formerly middle class people want to work or look for work. So it was unfair of me to say that in my post.
She does say that the overwhelming percentage of homeless people are drug free, have no mental illness and are formerly middle class. She reports that this vast majority of homeless people are the ones who would like to join the work force. I apologize for adding the qualifier of "white;" it was inspired by her sentiment that "most homeless people are like me and manage to blend in relatively well. " It was not, as I see now, entirely relevant to the point at hand. Nor was it helpful in my argument. My issue was and is with the line in the sand being drawn between "bums" and "non bums." I think the rest of my original post covers how I feel about that.

But I think Matt's real point was that the issue is moot anyway. The real point is that if I truly am an advocate for the homeless, as I claim to be, why am I wasting time finding fault with someone else who claims the same?

I think it's because over the past two years I have become very sensitive towards the marginalization of any of the people I work with. To draw a line between types of homeless people is hurtful because some concepts are not mutually exclusive, and it paints an unflattering picture of many homeless individuals.
Sometimes love can make us blind. I saw Brianna's piece as a threat to my patients getting public support and in my haste to defend them I neglected to acknowledge that Brianna was simply also looking to gain public support for a group of people in need.

My post did not successfully express any gratitude towards Ms. Karp, which I definitely owe to her along with my apology. My point in my post was not to whine at Brianna, but rather to expound on her idea; to say, yes, yes you're right! And you are beautiful. You are homeless and strong, and there are others like you. And you are speaking up for them. Becoming their voice where they had none before. Please, don't stop....but please also don't forget those who have a different story.

I applaud Brianna for the work she does, and for the positive example she sets for people in every walk of life. As I continue my own advocacy for human rights, I know that anyone working under the banner of ending human suffering is on the same side that I'm on.

I'm glad Matt posted because it made me continue to revisit my old ideas. I don't think we should ever stop what I see as a necessary and ongoing peaceful dialogue that can take place amongst us all regarding the nature of our work. This dialogue should empower us and inspire us to move forward.

So with all of this in mind, I reiterate these hopes:

That all people without homes, not just those who fall into certain socially acceptable criteria, will have access to the assistance they require to live the lives they dream of for themselves.

That all human beings will recognize themselves in the joys and sufferings of others and be moved to help those in need of aid.

And that all those working for peace, justice and love may be united over common goals instead of divided over differences in their work.

Thank you, Matt for reminding me of that last one.

Scott and Rachel and The Wedding

This past weekend marked the wedding of two very close friends of mine.

Scott and Rachel started dating during our sophomore year. Scott and I were already fast friends, and through him, Rachel and I quickly became friends as well. I've watched Scott and Rachel grow side by side for years now, and their love inspires me and energizes me in ways I can't explain. Being in their presence it is easy to detect a mix of very palpable respect, tenderness, playfulness and creative energy.


Mr. Braidman, during his toast to the couple mentioned that it's going to be really fun for all of us to watch what their union will produce. Everyone laughed and Steve blushed and said "that's not what I meant."
He's right, though and we can all feel it. Their love will produce so much (and yes, that includes children), and everything it creates will make the world a better
place. I am more sure of that than I am of so many other things.

EDIT: But you don't have to take my word for it, just take a look at the wedding vows Rachel posted today.

sopa de mondongo

"We got too much food," Mike explained, "come have some."
We order food in often at work, especially on the weekends. I entered the break room to find a few nurses, respite aides and housekeepers sharing a small feast of latin american origins.

"It smells delicious," I looked around the table for a familiar dish.
"Eat, eat," R., one of the respite aides implored. "Here, try this."
She lifted some broth to my mouth. It was superb. A tomato base, some spices I couldn't identify and some meat.
She ladled a bunch of the stew into a cup. I saw that it was full of white meat. Tomato and chicken soup, what a perfect boost for the middle of the day.

We chatted gamely for a while, mostly about food. As I slowed my eating down, I began to notice the texture of the chicken was smoother than normal.
"R., is this chicken? Or is it fish?"
"It's pork," answered one of the other nurses.
"No, no," a housekeeper spoke up , "beef."
"Beef? It can't be beef," I said, "it's white."
Everyone in the room began to laugh.

I consider myself a risk taker when it comes to cuisine. I am not sure when it happened. Long before my dumpster diving days in college, obviously. But when I was really young I used to require a separate dish for my salad and my pasta, and a separate fork as well. My parents used to have to beg me to try new things. "All I ask," my Dad would say, "is that you have one bite."

"Yes, Mama," said R., "it's white because it's the stomach, it's cow stomach."

Everyone waited.

"Oh yeah? Wow." I finished the cup off with a flourish.

A quick search on Google after lunch revealed several hits for Sopa de Mondongo, which has its place in several different cultures. In Nicaragua the soup apparently has "healing powers." It is apparently not the same thing as, but is similar to the Mexican dish, menudo.
R. , who is Dominican, laughed when I showed her the web sites, some of which hailed the dish for its ability to perk a person up after a night of partying. "Oh yeah, it cures hangovers," she agreed, "it really, really does."

I tried to imagine starting off my morning with a big bowl of the savory, greasy soup.
One of the other nurses groaned, " I can't believe you ate that."

I thought about the stomach inside my stomach. " I can," I said, "it was delicious."
And it was. It was even better than whale. And less endangered to boot.

You forgot something...

It was the kind of 12 hour shift that makes me feel like I earned my money, my sleep... and my title.
The kind of shift where every single minute of those 12 hours counts and I leave feeling like someone is crushing my heart because I am so worried about or proud of every one of my patients.

I was walking to the bus stop and saw a box for an Advair inhaler on the sidewalk. There was a name on it, and I stopped to read it out of habit and saw that it was one of "our guys," a patient who had AWOL'd last week.

I didn't bother to see if the inhaler was in the box.
I didn't want to know.

this week, this month, this year

Tonight and tomorrow night are your last chances to catch my gender-bending friend Johnny Blazes in hir wo(n)man show. Although I have not seen it (and can't due to my own performance schedule), I have known Johnny for ten years and watched hir work blossom with hir identity and hope that if you have a chance you'll come out to see this labor of love.
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Speaking of performances, I wrote a long entry about the weekend that I never posted because too much happened over the weekend to focus on any one thing well. Performing with new people was one of the many themes. Friday night, after doing three shows I was ready to go home when Micah Sherman and Zach Ward showed up to play in the midnight show. I've always wanted to play with Micah, and I hadn't even seen Zach since 2004, so I put my bag back down and made a night out of it. Sunday night's highlight was performing at the Boston Improv Festival twice. I got to do a set with IB and IA actors in LivePod Shuffle featuring Pint Glass Paycheck, as well as one with some alumni of the IA Mainstage Cast. Standing in the greenroom I started getting butterflies. I had never done improv with any of my cast mates for the night, and every single one of them was a performer I have been watching for years, amazed at their wit and whimsy. I had to try to forget I was sharing a stage with some of my idols in order to focus on the shows themselves, which went well. Kicking back and chatting with old and new friends at the parties Friday and Sunday night, I found myself reflecting over and over again how happy and blessed I am to have found this community.
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If you haven't seen "Pretty in Pink Slips," our most recent review at Improv Asylum, you probably only have one more weekend to see the show as written. Next week we'll start switching things out and replacing them with new material in anticipation of our upcoming previews for the new show. I'm there almost every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night so come on out.

Garage sale saturday, I need to pay my heart's outstanding bills...

Although all of my "stuff," fits into my new apartment I am faced with a dilema. I still have a lot of stuff.
I got rid of boxes and bags before I moved, but I still found myself with things I haven't been willing to part with, but I'm not in immediate need of.

Like a box of animatronic halloween figurines.

Or a $600 "prizewinner" solo dress from when I was an Irish Step Dancer.

I'm never going to compete as a dancer again. My knee made sure of that. And I don't have a window sill to rest a single glowing, blinking, reaching vampire on never mind several glowing, blinking, reaching vampires.

And it would be no big deal if I had a parent with a huge old attic, or a huge old attic in my own future. But I don't. Mom lives in a condo. I have no grandparents. We just don't have storage options, and I want to be free to make a big move by the end of next summer.

So. One of my goals for this year is to streamline my existence. Those two trunks of costume pieces, the boxes and boxes of art supplies. It's got to go. The hurricane lamp I saved just because it was my mother's, the case of CDs I never listen to (but I might!), every birthday card you ever sent, and even (gasp) some of my shoes.

Then again... the lamp was my mother's. And it might go better in my next place. And I use all those costume pieces... and how can I throw away this box of thank you notes and birthday cards? How heartless!

But seriously. I need to be ruthless about this. I can't stand the sight of all those boxes in the closet. So tell me, gentle friends, can anyone give a good, loving, stable home to a glowing, blinking, reaching vampire?

The New Face of Homelessness?

Liz. C recently sent me an article that ran on Jezebel.com entitled "Elle's "New face of Homelessness:" White and Formerly Middle Class. "

The article is a soft critique of 24 year old Brianna Karp's blog piece for Elle entitled "The New Face of Homelessness."

The more I read about Brianna, the more intrigued I became. I even found her blog, and other blog pieces about her.

Bri, apparently homeless after a string of temporary jobs and exhausting her savings to fix her car, was chosen to intern at Elle, and to write her own blog column. In her first go, she wanted to break down the typically negative stereotypes of homeless individuals.

She writes:

I believe it is very important to reverse the prevalent negative attitudes and common stereotypes of homelessness, such as its perceived definition. Its legal definition is “an individual who lacks a fixed, regular, and adequate nighttime residence, or a person who resides in a shelter, welfare hotel, transitional program, or place not ordinarily used as regular sleeping accommodations, such as streets, cars, movie theatres, abandoned buildings, etc." It also includes children and youths "who are sharing the housing of other persons due to loss of housing, economic hardship, or similar reason".

Now, as many of you know, I am personally very committed to educating the public about homelessness in order to dispel Myths About the Homeless. There's nothing wrong with her piece so far.

But what happens next is where her good intentions go awry:

She goes on here (I added the bold for emphasis):

The vast majority of homeless individuals are not on drugs, do not have mental problems, want to work, and look for work. The "new face of homelessness" the last couple of years is the middle-class recession victim with a stable history, who would never have previously been pinpointed as a likely candidate for homelessness. The stereotypical "bum" is actually a very small fraction of the homeless population; the overwhelming percentage of homeless people are like me and manage to blend in relatively well.


The point she is trying to make is one I have pointed out to friends as well. On a bus or a train, at your job, you have no idea who may be homeless and "passing." Or there could be children who go to school with your children who go home to a car or a motel at the end of the day.

But to say that there is a "new face of homelessness," and in doing so to effectively brush aside individuals who were born poor, or mentally ill, or who are elderly, or immigrants (legal or otherwise), or victims of domestic or sexual abuse, or, yes even drug addicts or former convicts is absurd. And to intimate that only white, formerly middle class people are willing to work "and look for work," is offensive. It was an innocent mistake on her part, but offensive.

She seems to realize how her words may have come across so she adds "even those that do fit the negative stereotypes are no less deserving of help; if anything, they are far more in need of it than the majority."

But the damage has been done. She has created a dichotomy in which homeless people are either "bums:" people who fit the negative stereotypes; or part of the "new face" of homelessness: people who aren't stereotypical. Although she graciously admits that everyone is deserving of help, she continues to reinforce the stereotypes by playing to them at all.

But if you get to know the homeless you'll know that even those who resemble "the homeless" the way we see homeless people mercilessly and consistently portrayed in media, aren't necessarily people who "fit" the negative stereotypes. Not every elderly white man with a beard is an alcoholic. Not every young hispanic pan handler with tattoos is an ex gang member. You can't tell anyone's story just by looking at them.

Every single person without a home is first and foremost a human. Whether they were formerly middle class or not. Although Bri makes it clear that she isn't like "the stereotypical bum," she actually is. And so am I. And so are you. Because we are all human. We think, and feel. We hope and want. And we have setbacks, some more major than others.

Brianna means well, but ends up shooting herself in the foot with the "us" and "them" talk.

Hortense at Jezebel.com writes, "her heart is clearly in a good place, and hopefully her column will reflect more than just the magazine's slightly off-putting attempt to attach a "new face" to a sad and ongoing issue."

Megan Sweas of U.S Catholic, is even more gracious and commented directly to Brianna on her blog: "I'm glad you are introducing us all to the "new face of homelessness," but I hope you also address the issues faced by those who have long been homeless, especially the criminalization of homelessness that you mentioned."

I agree completely, and I will be watching with interest to see what she puts out there next.

Healthcare on the Brain

On 8/31 cuts were made to Commonwealth Care causing 31,000 legal immigrants to lose health care coverage.
On October 1st they will be enrolled in CeltiCare, but in the meantime they are being covered by Health Safety Net.

The problem is that there is a myriad of services not covered by Health Safety Net including outpatient non-urgent services. Which means chemotherapy, dialysis, and other important therapies can not be paid for. In many cases, this will mean termination of therapies until Oct. 1.

Fortunately for the percentage of my patients that these changes effect, they have someone to go to bat for them. Administrators at BHCHP are willing to work with the Office of Medicaid and Commonwealth Care to try to cover treatments on a case by case basis until the transition period is over.

Hopefully they will be successful. It's one more reason why I love where I work, the fact that people are consistently ready to go above and beyond to advocate for every person's right to health care.

I worry about the people who don't have anyone to advocate for them. The young, or elderly or non English speaking or mentally impaired legal immigrants who are not part of our system. I hope their doctors are also speaking up for them. Everyone has a right to the care that they need.

And without getting any more political, that's all I have to say about that.

Improv Boston Day declared in Cambridge

The Honorable Mayor of Cambridge, Denise Simmons has officially declared September 9th, Improv Boston Day in Cambridge.

The full story is here.

In related news, today is the kick-off of the Boston Improv Festival which runs through September 13th on three different stages. Performers are coming from all over the world including Canada and New Zealand. Highlights include Improtep'tl, Mexico's premiere improv troupe, Zach Ward from Dirty South Improv and one of my personal local favorites, MC Mr. Napkins.

Be sure to also check out Improv Boston's own Mosaic, Family Show and Mainstage sets.

I'll be there at 8pm on Sunday night performing with LivePod Shuffle, with a cast made up of alumni from both Improv Boston and Improv Asylum's mainstage casts.

So come celebrate Improv Boston Day by coming out any night this week, starting tonight, to see some truly excellent comedy!

Same great girl, all new location

The move went as smoothly as it could have gone. Now that I am (almost) all moved in, and have internet I can get back to updating.

Moving Day

Today is Moving Day. As I type this it is about 1 in the morning and I am scrambling to scrub out my kitchen. I was the first one to move into the apartment two years ago because Laura was still in Chicago and Johnny was at Burning Man. It was two years ago today that I moved all my stuff into the living room and then camped out for a week so I could clean up much the way I'm doing tonight. Circles and cycles and all of that.

I knew I'd be too busy to actually update today so instead I prepared this list for your reading and viewing pleasure.

The Top Five Things I Will Miss the Most About Living In Jamaica Plain

5. Java Jo Coffee House. Located at the end of my street, I never have to travel any farther for a fabulous meal. They have the best iced chai tea lattes in the city. They use healthy and organic ingredients whenever they can. Their turkey avocado sandwiches are heavenly but my favorite breakfast snack is the "I Hate Egg" : cream cheese, bacon and avocado on a toasted bagel. Some days I ate all three meals there. Guys, seriously. Where am I going to eat now?


4. Forest Hills Cemetery. Located at the opposite end of my street (the dead end leads into the cemetery), this is one of my favorite places in the world. It's not just a cemetery, it's an outdoor art museum and cultural center. Once a year there is a Japanese Lantern Festival that people from all over Boston turn out for.
There is a gorgeous pond in the center, but if you explore hard enough you can also find a waterfall in the newest section of the cemetery. It's slightly hilly, perfect for roller blading around. You may remember from my birthday last year that e.e cummings is buried here. I will miss this secret escape spot.

3. Jamaica Pond and The Arboretum. I may be cheating by listing two favorites here but both Jamaica Pond and the Arboretum are amazing places to go to people watch, forget about city life and enjoy some fresh air any time of year and each one is walking distance from my place. I love sitting by the pond to see if fish will jump out (they do!) or counting turtles along the sides of the path. I love the way the Arboretum smells in the fall when all the trees are changing color, and I can't get over the view of the skyline from the top of Peter's Hill. But my favorite part of the Arboretum is probably the bonsai collection... I could sit there for hours.




2. My Apartment. I can visit Java Jo's and the cemetery. But I can't come back and hang out in my place. Sunning on the porch, sitting on the roof to read or write next to our big Japanese Maple, or having traveling friends stay in our spacious living room, this apartment has worked out really well for almost all our needs. It was an awesome find.


1. And of course, my roommates, Laura Clark and Johnny Blazes. What more can I say? They made the last two years more exciting, memorable and glittery than they otherwise would have been. And although this move has provided us with a chance to pursue new things, I will always look back on the times we shared fondly .


This is Laura. And a seal. The seal doesn't live with us so I won't miss it as much. But I'll still probably miss it a little.