Of cats and rats

Now let me preface this post by saying that I grew up in the suburbs. I understand that the city, in many ways, would have a hard time existing without the suburbs and vice versa. To each their own. But this is just funny.

So a few weeks ago, I was helping out at the Day House Catholic Worker with a big high school youth group from a very very wealthy suburb of Detroit. They had come to help do some cleanup in the neighborhood and at a local church. Their youth group leader was pretty great; he had decided to implement some "simple living and solidarity" rules including limited showers, PBandJ lunches, no accepting treats, every one at every work site got the same food, work hours, etc. No revolution, but it was obvious that it was definitely stretching some of the kids. So Jeff (a catholic worker) and I were the "detroit reps" for the week, coming up with projects and facilitating the work. It was a great week and we accomplished quite a bit.

On the last day of the week, some of the kids were using the bathroom at the Catholic worker and one accidentally shut herself into the bathroom with Tiger, the cat. Tiger, apparently a little freaked out by the incident, reacted as a cat and bit her. Tiger has lived at the house for years and has never bitten anyone, even with all of the chaos of a Catholic Worker. Long story short, the parents of the youth group freaked out, sent animal control, and Tiger eventually had to spend 10 days in quarantine before being given away to a new home. Now I'm going to go ahead and guess that if a house cat from Rochester Hills had gotten spooked and bitten someone, the fear level may have been a little different. But all cats in Detroit have rabies, obviously. All in all, pretty funny. Understandable, but still slightly ridiculous.

Today, I was working with a different group of teens. This group was from the Greening of Detroit and has been spending their summer helping with reforestation, eliminating invasives, making fallen timber benches, etc. Pretty cool work. The students are definitely punks, though. I mean that in an endearing way. My friend Anna is one of the leaders of a group of 10 of these students and brought them over to our house so I could talk a little bit about urban farming and show them our garden. They were pretty great. A little hard to keep their attention, but they were definitely listening and asking questions. Plus its always fun to hand people fresh mint without telling them what it is until it starts burning their tongue like "an altoid on crack."

Anyhow, just as they were leaving I was explaining to them our compost system. I opened the lid and what did I find? This giant dead rat.

I was pretty horrified. Less by the rat and more by the thought of 10 high school students freaking out and writing me off as the crazy lady who composts rats. But, unlike the cat incident, these high schoolers were entirely unfazed. One even asked me if I wanted her to get it out for me. She said something along the lines of " I guess there really isnt a better place for a rat to die than in a giant pile of food trash. He was probably happy."

Now, I'm not romanticizing city life over suburban or making any quality judgments. A healthy fear of rabies and rats is probably good, no matter who has it. But the contrast was pretty entertaining. Tiger ends up being evicted from the Catholic Worker and this giant dead rat was hardly given notice.

Only in Detroit

I never know how to start updates, especially after over a month of blogging-dryspell, so i'll just skip to the cheesy good stuff: SOMEONE DONATED A HOUSE TO US. And its right down the street. And it has a huge porch. And I think I'm remembering that God exists.

I feel like I could just stop there, but I will continue. Let me backtrack a bit. I have been incredibly blessed in Detroit with a wonderful peace community that has existed for decades and happens to include my roommate lydia and my landlord (her dad.) This has led to some great support in the form of furniture, food, advice, prayers, etc. Weeding in exchange for lasagna and homemade mac and cheese is hands down better than any other part time job I could possibly imagine.

Recently, two peace community members bought a foreclosed home down the street. Many of these homes end up entirely stripped or in flames soon after they are vacant, which is sad on many levels. So, in order to prevent some of the consequences of foreclosures, they planned to fix up the house a bit and maybe rent or eventually sell it. After going on a retreat and reading some good old Dorothy Day, Ed (a former priest) felt moved to use the house for hospitality. After discussing it with his wife, they decided to talk to a few folks who were looking to start hospitality communities (including us.) Obviously, as a matter of justice, foreclosures are really complex, especially in Detroit. Its hard to walk through the house without wondering where the former owners are and thinking of the thousands of people who have been forced out of homes. I am glad, however, that this house won't end up like so many others in our neighborhood (though vacant lots do eventually make for nice gardens...)

So the short of it is we now have a new house. We are still discerning some of the details, but it seems that the pieces keep falling into place. We have a few people who will likely be joining our community, so we are navigating how that will all work out. It will be a little tricky, but there are definitely worse problems for a community to have. Our plan is to give a home to families on the first floor for somewhat long-term housing (6 months to two years-ish) and we will live on the top floor as well as in the apartment we are currently in.

It has certainly been very exciting but also a bit intense. So many decisions to be made, and Erinn and Hannah haven't even moved in yet! Crazy. But it seems that just as I was questioning my purpose here, I was given an amazing gift. While I have had a few momentary freak-outs ("Oh shit, does this mean I'm really stuck in Detroit?") they have been countered with many times of clarity and peace (things I havent had much of for months.)

I came to Detroit expecting a depressed town, worried that I wouldnt be bright enough or strong enough to respond in a way that countered the oppressive forces that seem so blatant in this city. I was worried that I wouldnt be able to find my way into the heart of a town that seems somewhat inpenetrable. What right did a white girl from the suburbs have to choose to be a part of Detroit's struggle? But it seems that my experience has been quite the opposite. Detroit has found its way into my heart. Its starting to take my own depression and feed it with brightness and strength, drawing me into the struggle while putting me in my place.

Come December, when the the garden is dry and our big porch covered in snow, I may feel a little differently. But for now, I am going to finish my glass of wine and enjoy the fact that I am covered in spackle and primer from working on the new house. Amen Detroit.

View from 2nd floor porch