Clybourne Park

Since coming to the District of Columbia, I have been fascinated with this idea of gentrification. How can we let development occur without raising property values so high that tenants are displaced? How do we help rejuvenate neighborhoods in the District without forcing tenants to move or without changing the character of the neighborhood?

These questions and more have been on the forefront of my questions since coming to D.C. To deepen my understanding of gentrification, I recently attended the play, Clybourne Park, at the Woolly Mammoth Theatre, here in D.C. Gaining its inspiration from the play, A Raisin in the Sand, the play explored heavy concepts of race in the United States. The first began in 1959, in a beautiful bungalow, with a white family moving out of their Chicago neighborhood. Their neighbors were furious to find out that an African American family was moving into the neighborhood; their fear, based out of racism, fueled the belief that their community would deteriorate as soon, more African American families would move into the neighborhood. In an emotionally charged act, I felt the real experience of both Caucasian and African American families struggling with the realities of both individual prejudice and institutional racism.

The first act closes and the second act opens; the home is the same bungalow, but it is no longer beautiful. The wood panelling is gone. The floor has patches of discolored hardwood floor which has been replaced. The light fixtures are gone. The home is in decrepit shape. Now, the tables are turned. The neighborhood is predominately African American and a Caucasian family wants to move into the home. Living in the city is suddenly glamorous again and this young Caucasian family wants to start their own family in this home. The price are low, and they see an opportunity to demolish the home and build their dream home. The act is equally, if not more, emotionally charged, with both African American and Caucasian Americans powerfully expressing their ties to the neighborhood and their economic interests.

In the end, there is no answer to the gentrification. Repeated in each act is the statement, "Change happens. Some change is good. Too much change is not." It is true - change does happen. It is the reality of life, it is the reality of neighborhoods. It is what happened to the District of Columbia, and what continues to happen as new families move in and out of the District, as wealth allows development to happen... in some ways it cannot be stopped.

But in other ways - I think about the African American families in the play who are displaced and who watch their neighborhood change due to the economic interests of the wealthy re-emerging into the city. It is the same picture we are observing here in the District of Columbia. The juxtaposition of the Caucasian family leaving in 1959 while a new one returns in 2009 is a powerful statement to the continued effects of past racism and current inequality.

The play continues to stretch my mind and ask, how can positive development happen? I suppose in many ways, I too am like the Caucasian family of 2009, wanting to move back into the glamorous city, wanting to capture the "good deal."

Gentrification is a topic I am continually interested in. I have no answers from the play. But I will continue to search for answers on how we can make development and tenant preservation both priorities in our cities today.

The Inequalities of Landlord Tenant Court

Last Friday, Eli and I decided to go to Landlord Tenant Court to see our Bread attorneys in action and to help if there was anything the attorneys needed assistance on. As I sat in the court waiting during roll call, and throughout the day, I was struck by many images of inequality that became immediately apparent. It has been a few days now and yet, I have continued to reflect on these images...



I noticed that the courtroom was full, mainly of African Americans. Yes, it's true - D.C. is still a African American dominated city, so perhaps that is what one would expect. Yet, I saw few men and women of other races; those who were white appeared immediately to be attorneys. As it turned out during roll call, most of the white people either worked as landlord attorney's or were Bread for the City attorneys defending the tenants. I am not usually one to point to racism as ever present in American society, but it seemed clear at that moment that white people in the District tend to own their homes, leaving many (but not all) African Americans as tenants. Here in the nation's capital... even here race continues to separate us into different categories.



Most landlords have attorneys to be present for them at the actual L/T proceeding. Thus landlords are able to continue with their business while the attorneys represent them. And, when listening closely, it became clear that most landlords were represented by just a few attorneys while the majority of tenants stood there without any sort of protection or knowledge of their rights. There were a handful of tenants represented by attorneys - mostly Bread for the City attorneys.

While the landlords have attorneys present for them in the court, tenants do not, and thus, must come to their court date, unsure of what is going to happen. Their fate looks like it is heading towards eviction. The judge tells them during roll call that they might have to stay as long as 5 pm to ensure their case gets heard. I'm guessing most of the low-income tenants I observed at Landlord Tenant court are on hourly jobs, not salaried, and face loss of wages for the day as well, further depleting them of resources needed for their families.

These were my initial observations into the disparity at L/T court. A light shining, though, offsets at least some of the inequities. DC Law students in court are able to jump in and help some tenants each day. The Landlord Tenant resource center gives information to tenants each morning and helps tenants fill out paperwork. The Attorney of the Day project helps provide representation to tenants who are income eligible. And of course, there are great attorneys like Rebecca, Vytas, Skip, Julia, and Jenny, who protect the rights of tenants through their direct client representation and advocacy efforts.

I guess I see inequality each and every day at Bread for the City. I didn't expect it to be this easy to spot at Landlord Tenant Court. But at least I an count on attorneys like ours here to help ensure some tenants have fair access to justice.

Balancing Service and Advocacy

The balance between service and advocacy is something I have been trying to grapple with, especially in the Legal Clinic this year. In many ways, I am drawn to the advocacy level. My mind is constantly on the macro level – thinking of ways to solve systemic problems and enact structural change. Working at Bread for the City this year has been a blessing because it has forced me to look at poverty in the lens of real people, real experiences. Poverty isn’t just a structural issue – it is a real problem that affects people who walk into Bread for the City each day.

Because I experience real people each day - sit with them, listen to their story, and try and be present in their life journey, it has been a challenge trying to also balance advocacy type efforts. I know that in many ways, I cannot do the advocacy work without knowing real people who will be impacted. But I also know that the advocacy work must be done, to ensure that the structures of society are not kept unequal and unfair. And… this advocacy work is something I am interested in and want to continue to pursue.

Working on the Fair Budget Coalition and the SE Preservation Project has been great experiences of advocacy for me this year. Learning about the D.C. budget and working in the Housing group has helped me grow in my understanding of what is needed for fair and affordable housing. Working on the SE Preservation Project has helped me dive into Gentrification in a practical and applied way. I am tempted to make these projects more of my work each day. I find myself going to meetings, talking about ideas, collaborating with others in the community… these projects make me excited and ignite my passion for structural change.

Yet I am learning I must balance these efforts. I must decide what is important for me to work on, and how I can still be present each day at Bread. If I am not intentional on this advocacy work, there will more and more gaps of time for clients to see legal assistance when they walk in. Sure, it’s true… we’re technically only officially open Mondays 1-3 pm for walk-in clients to get assistance from attorneys. Yet the on-call system we have each day helps ensure that simple referrals can be given to clients, and simple questions can be answered, meeting their needs more efficiently. I think of Ms. D., whom I helped this morning. If I had decided to go to the budget meeting this morning, no one would have been able to answer her Social Security question and she would have continued to be discouraged and frustrated with SSA’s overpayment mistake. Because I was here, we looked into her issue, found some information, and she left with at least a little hope in the overpayment problem.

So then I think after today – after taking many calls and walk-ins, I still have no explicit answer to the balance. Over this next year and a half, I will continue to try and be intentional about my service and advocacy efforts. Hopefully, by making intentionality a priority, I’ll be able to make the most good for both efforts and will in turn, find both my needs and the needs of Bread clients are met each day. That is my continued challenge for this next year and a half.

The Woman at the Well

For many reasons, Lent is my favorite season in the church calendar. Growing up, I would look forward to the different songs that we would sing in Lent. Most specifically, Lent was marked musically by the coming of “Create in Me,” Psalm 51, which we would sing each Sunday after the first reading. But I think there are many reasons I love the liturgical season of Lent. One of them is the depth of the readings of Lent.

In Exodus today, Moses felt helpless at the grumbling of the people whose thirst was not quenched in the desert. How often I feel a similar feeling to Moses each day at work, when I cannot provide the legal help people are needing – I cannot quench their thirst for justice and fairness, but can at least try to provide dignity in the process. In the story today, Moses turns to God, cries out for help, and God provides a spring of water. He quenches their thirst and restores faith in the people. It is a good reminder to me that I must trust God in times of need and continue to give what I can to the clients of Bread for the City.

I love when the Church echoes a message from the Old Testament to the Gospel reading in Mass. Today’s Gospel was from John – Jesus meets the woman at the well in Samaria. It is a Gospel story that captivates me each time I hear it. Jesus speaks with the woman, asking for a cup of water. He in turn tells her he alone can quench her thirst… he is the living water. He is more than the spring of water God provided Moses and the people in the desert, for as he says, that water leaves one thirsty for more. The woman’s life is transformed because she experiences this living water. She leaves to tell all in the town because she realizes Jesus knows “everything that she has ever done” and truly is that living water. It is a story that continues to give me comfort and connects me, especially in times of desolation.

When I think of this story, I imagine a well, outside the city limits. I see the woman come up to the well. There is a slight wind and it picks up sand and carries it across the desert. Looking away from the city, all one can see is sand, sand for many miles, sand stretching far past the well. There is Jesus sitting at the well, without his bucket. He is waiting for the conversation with the woman.

I think what I like about the Lenten stories is that they take me on a journey with Jesus. As he prepares for his death, his encounters with people become so authentic. The story of the woman at the well is more than a sermon or a physical healing. Rather, in his authentic conversation with the woman, he gives her a healing of the heart and sends her on her way to continue to grow and spread his message to others.

Christ in the Heart of Bread for the City SSI Clients

These past couple weeks have been full of SSI/SSDI work. As soon as Mr. R’s hearing concluded, my mind switched to two cases that are scheduled to for hearing on March 11th. Together with my boss and the clients, I have been doing the same as for Mr. R – finalizing my understanding of the medical records, writing a brief for the judge, submitting all pertinent evidence, explaining the process to my clients, and making sure everything else is ready.

In the process, I have met with my boss, Vytas, to comprehensively make sure I am ready to represent these clients. During our case review on Monday, Vytas made a comment about a movie his daughter and he had watched the previous weekend. One of the characters in the movie was clearly crippled – an image we can conjure in our minds: a man in a walker… an woman limping across the street with large thick glasses… the images are all too familiar here in my neighborhood and at Bread for the City. Yet Vytas explained a twist in the story – it was later revealed that this disabled character was actually an important powerful Greek god, in the disguise of a disabled person. Perhaps initial encounters and judgments don’t offer a full understanding. How differently might others have treated this disabled person if he appeared as a Greek god?

I was struck by this story because of its parallel to what my Catholic faith calls me to see – Christ in the heart of the poor. Reflecting on a commonly discussed passage from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus asks us to turn to the poor, the “least brothers of mine” and to serve them – to give them food and drink, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, and visit the ill and imprisoned (Matthew 25: 33-46).

I have been thinking about this moment with Vytas since Monday and have been drawn back to this passage. While I have been praying for my SSI clients and their hearings, especially as they draw near, I often forget to slow down and reflect on the work I am doing. It has been a couple of days since that meeting, and I continue to return to that meeting with Vytas. Working for a place like Bread for the City provides daily experiences for me to experience Christ – perhaps if I slow down and look more closely into the heart of each client of Bread for the City, Jesus will become more present in the conversations I have each day.

Mr. R's Hearing

These next couple months have become quite full of Social Security work for me. For the past few months, I have been researching medical records and Social Security law for my SSI/SSDI clients. These clients are waiting to find out whether they are approved for disability benefits, some waiting since July 2007. They have applied and have been denied twice due to ambiguity in their applications. Often, Social Security has failed to obtain their medical records; at other times, SSA has not read their application right when in reality, there is sufficient evidence to deem them disabled. One example of this is Mr. Q., whose application was approved in the “Pre-Hearing Review” stage, meaning Mr. Q. and I didn’t have to go to hearing; the judge felt the file had sufficient evidence, despite two previous denials.

My first hearing was this past week for Mr. R. Mr. R. suffers from severe depression, Hepatitis C, HIV, asthma, knee problems, a thumb problem, and diabetes. He came into Bread for the City in September, and since then, we had been working together to get his case ready for hearing. Through many conversations with Mr. R., I found my own heart being touched by his experience. SSI was no longer just a public benefit, but rather, SSI became a real concept, a reality and a need for Mr. R. As we sat in the Legal Clinic, talking about his case, listening to his story helped me realize that this hearing is not just about a “win” for me; rather, it is about Mr. R., and guaranteeing that he will have an income for the rest of his life. The more we sat together, the more I realized how much Mr. R. was depending on a Fully Favorable Decision, prompting me to give more and become more invested in his case.

I am grateful to be able to say I am confident we were able to get him a Fully Favorable Decision. As we wait for the judge’s written decision, I have turned my attention to two other cases whose hearings are in March. I will always remember Mr. R.’s case as my first SSI case, and I am grateful and thankful for the many conversations we had in the Legal Clinic.

Charity and Service vs. Justice and Advocacy

I have been discerning doing a second year of JVC, staying at Bread for the City, and living the values for another year. In my recent JVC interview for a second year, I was asked an interesting question:

"In terms of Social Justice, what have you learned about structural inequality this year?"

Reflecting on social justice this year has not been something new for me – it is something I have thought about throughout my college experience. Both Sociology and Economics were disciplines aimed at addressing issues of social justice, while my leadership program helped give me insights into being a servant for others, with a special emphasis on those who are most vulnerable. I responded to the question posed to me explaining that the concept of structural inequality is not new for me, but something I have been reflecting on for quite some time. Instead, I think I have learned about the balance between charity and justice, service and advocacy.

At the end of college, some of the programs I participated in such as the East LA immersion to the Dolores Mission and Homeboy Industries helped facilitate discussion on these two aspects of making change. Charity and Service are needed at the first level – to provide for the immediate needs of individuals, needs such as food, clothing, shelter... Our system is set up with programs like Food Stamps, food pantries, soup kitchens, and homeless shelters to fill the immediate needs people face. It is important to respond to these urgent needs, so that people have adequate food and shelter. However, when society does ONLY this, there is no room to escape the current conditions and structural inequality remains rampant. In addition to filling these basic needs, it is also important to work for structural change, that is, to advocate for social justice changes.

I first returned to the charity and justice discussion this year at the Bread for the City Staff Retreat in the fall. During the retreat, we reflected on our mission trip, specifically, what it means to “alleviate the suffering caused by poverty [charity/service] and to rectify the conditions that perpetuate it [justice/advocacy].” This discussion continued into our community, and was especially present in our faith discussion at the winter JVC retreat. Present to me was a personal call to live “faith-justice,” to live in a way that always promotes social justice in what I do, in how I lead, and in the choices I make.

I continue to be inspired by my coworkers who are working for both charity and justice. In our Legal Clinic, our attorneys are working to provide the services our clients need, alleviating immediate suffering. They are also active in advocacy, whether that is through ensuring child support calculators are correctly adjusted, advocating for changes in landlord tenant court, work with other attorneys to prevent gentrification and tenant displacement in the poorest section of DC, testifying at the city council on behalf of TANF and food stamp clients, and collaborating with other advocates in organizations such as the Language Access Coalition, the Fair Budget Coalition, and the Access to Justice Commission.

From the example set by my coworkers, I have learned that it is possible to
make changes to structural inequality. It requires faith, dedication, and commitment – knowing that the work is great, that structures of injustice are pervasive throughout the minds and systems currently existing, and that to really make change is to accept that one might not see the change one is working for. It is to have faith and confidence that injustice can be changed, and to keep working for that change.

Perhaps the lesson I have learned so far returns me to East LA actually, to the words of Fr. Greg Boyle of Homeboy Industries: “Measure not in success, but in faithfulness.” I believe my co-workers are living examples of what it means to be faithful to alleviating the suffering of their clients and to rectifying the conditions that perpetuate it.