Pilsen

Haha! I was at the Mexican Museum on a recent Sunday where I saw a rendering of the Mona Lisa called, you got it, Mona Lupe! It really cracked me up. I sometimes play this game with myself at museums; I think about which piece I would take home (if the taking was good that is), and this painting was the winner that day.
The museum itself is in the heart of the Pilsen neighborhood in Chicago. It was previously a park district building, but you'd never really know that today, it looks just like a very nice museum; which it is. Maybe one of the the last free ones in Chicago as well. I started going there about 30 years ago when it first opened.  I've always been attracted to the neighborhood surrounding it for its liveliness, murals, and good food. So, over the years I've taken lots of photos there. I love all the Madonnas; so many doorways, alleys, unexpected places where she turns up and in so many different forms; it's great.

The neighborhood started out Czech, where the name Pilzen originally came from. Then Latinos moved into the hood due to its proximity to so many factories, and cheap rent. At some point, artists moved in for the same reason; cheap rent. Gentrification has followed the artists, as usual, chasing out the artists as the buildings get renovated and the cheap rent goes sky high. Kind of where the neighborhood is now, a mix of both high and low-end living.

For many years I went to the Pilsen Artists Open House, where the artists lined up on either side of Halsted and its surrounding streets, open up their studios and beautiful gardens. Driving down Halsted, you just see what often looks like empty buildings on either side of the street, not much indication that there are warm, creative artist spaces and fabulous gardens out back.

I have taken many groups of people to the neighborhood on field trips. We usually start by driving around looking at murals, then hit the museum, after which we often go to a restaurant on 18th Street for an authentic meal. Many people from other countries have never tasted Mexican food so it's a fun way to share and learn about another culture.

Now, I go to their Farmer's Market on lazy Sunday afternoons or to the Jumping Bean coffee shop or Vintage store across the street on 18th.  I love the smells emanating from restaurants as you walk down the streets and the sounds too. Up where I live, it's very, very quiet, so I revel in the sounds of a different neighborhood.

Then there are the murals...everywhere. The schools often have mosaics, on the sides of buildings there are HUGE murals. There is a long wall of famous Mexican women near the museum. Along the train tracks there are many, many murals; new and old. Seems like every time I visit I see new and different public art.

I took photos of doorway Madonnas on a recent visit. On that same visit, I was dropping off my friend on Alport which is right acoss from St. Procopius Church. There was a crowd of people outside and when we joined them, we found out that they were honoring a 90 something-year-old-lady who had volunteered for over 50 years there and they were having an unveiling of a mural of her on the side of the building. We got there just, just, just in time to get the very last of the speeches and then the unveiling. I got photos of the whole thing from the guy on the roof holding the cloth until it was completely revealed. That was a choice bit of timing that day.

Once I get some of these photos collected from my various devices, I'll post them here. Here's a few:

http://s945.photobucket.com/user/shaylo9999/slideshow/Pilsen

School

I HATED school, all my life, I found it an excruciatingly, mind-numbing form of torture. It's especially hard for creative types to be put in a box for 8 or so hours, listening to voices droning on or having to learn by rote memorization facts and ideas that just do not connect with their truth.

In high school, I had 17 Dean’s detentions my freshman year alone. I had to have my father bring me back to school on Monday mornings for my daylong in-school suspensions. Next day though, if someone said "Hey, Sheryl, lets go to the Cubs game, or out for breakfast, or whatever," I was out that field house door as fast as my feet would carry me. I just could not find value in school. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t taking the time to educate myself. I read like a mad lady and explored ideas and avenues that interested me. Actually, those in-school suspensions, sitting in one study hall after another, with a book of my own choosing was more palatable than being in classes that bored me no end.

When high school ended, I chose not to extend the torture. I opted to work instead. I spent that first year working in Lutheran General Hospital's x-ray billing department while visiting my friends at various schools in Illinois. To my surprise, work soon became an even bigger dead end than school; so, reluctantly, I started at Oakton Community College. I think it was the first year it opened (had to be 1971), and I raised my grade point average so that I could transfer to a four-year school. I transferred to Western Illinois University as I thought it was easier than Northern, not as far as Southern, and I had many friends there; academics never really entered the picture. Since I only had one distant uncle in my family who had graduated from college, I did not have the support or guidance that would have been helpful to me at that time. I was really more or less on my own when it came to making big decisions. Not that I regret that decision. My time at Western was a good one; but it was definitely more about the people I was meeting and the activities I was engaged in more than the academic side of life. As always, studying was a torturous activity for me. I usually slid by with a C in courses without much effort going into them and I was satisfied with that. I remember pulling some all-nighters studying, but on reflection, that was more about experiencing the activity than about earnestly engaging in learning. 

Last thing on earth I’d have pictured for myself would be that I would wind up teaching! I have taught adult immigrants since 1998 and love the role of teacher. For me it’s an exercise in creativity. I rarely use books and love the challenge of doing wild and wonderful things in the classroom. This past semester, during Women’s History Month, we had a class where we worked in groups to research some of the history and important women in the Women’s Suffragette Movement. Next class, we did presentations about who they researched. After that, we watched the movie, “Iron Jawed Angels.”  That really brought the movement to life for my students, conversation from that was quite animated. We followed that by doing a play I found in a social activism resource book, which proved to be a great experience on so many levels. One satisfaction I got from that was seeing the chorus of women with scarves on their heads protesting "Equal Rights for Women!"

I guess “school” taught me that education is a means of obtaining information, which is a pursuit open to anyone at any time. Boxing up and packaging that education into a school format can deaden the experience for some in ways that make them resistant to further educating themselves. If I wasn’t as unhappy with my work experience as I was, I might never have pursued college at all. Even once I did, I did so for all the wrong reasons. I was much more interested in the “experience” of living away from home and the whole college thing than I was about what I was going to college for. Academically, I chose to major in psychology because I was interested in people, never had I given a thought to what kind of job or career that major would lead to. 

I dropped out of college at the end of my junior year during a fondly remembered “peace, love, dope” hippie period of my life. After a few unsettling, menial jobs, I found myself in the graphic arts world for the next 20 years. I worked in a few art studios and then I worked on many newspapers. My claim to fame at one point in 1975 was that I worked on the Reader Newspaper, the free Chicago weekly.  I finally ended that phase as a typesetter for a financial printer where I met my husband and happily gave it all up for marriage and having a child.  A couple of years into that life, I wound up going back to Northeastern to finish up the last year I had missed and got some generic degree that had combined my life experiences for credit. How funny, I got my degree exactly 20 years after I started college!

Years later, through a weird twist of faith, I had brunch with a bunch of people and the woman I was sitting next to had an administrative job in Harold Washington’s Adult Education department. I was talking about my job at the time, which was working at Schiller School (the one right behind old Cabrini Green) for Sylvan at School; an offshoot of Sylvan Learning Center. Our job was to work with students individually to help them get their reading scores up so they could do better on the tests. This was 1998, before No Child Left Behind.  Anyway, she hired me to teach GED part-time at Harold Washington College, one of the seven city colleges in Chicago. However, when I went to work, mystically enough, all the GED positions were filled and they were in need of an ESL teacher, so I got that. I say mystically enough, because upon becoming Buddhist in 1984, I took a trip to Japan, a religious pilgrimage, and while I was there I decided I really wanted to go back there to live. I figured teaching English was a means by which I could do that, so it was something I really wanted to do anyway.

However I came to teaching, it was the right time and right place. I found work I love. I love meeting new people from far away places and learning from them. I love that each year, classes change three times (this keeps me from getting bored, that’s for sure), I love that I can help people become more confident in their speaking abilities so that they can live more comfortably in this culture. And I love that this job enables me to be a lifelong learner on a global scale; learning about other governments, living conditions and societal norms in other countries from the people who have intimate knowledge of the inner workings. 

So, where I blame school for turning me off to learning, I love that I now work at a school that provides me a way to make a living, where I can connect with new people all the time, and where I can challenge myself creatively. For now, when I think of school, it's all good:)

Milwaukee, Wisconsin

If you live in Chicago, Milwaukee is an hour and a half ride north, a straight shot on I-94, past Gurnee Mills and Six Flags. The first time I took a day trip to Milwaukee was Mother's Day 2011. My son was home from some far-flung travel of his and staying with me for a few days. I got up that morning and spontaneously said, "Why don't we go to Milwaukee for the day?" What a great day it was too. Lucky for us, after days of grey and gloomy weather, we got a bright sunny day, so we took our phones with their GPS capability, programmed the Milwaukee Art Museum and off we went. The building itself sits right on Lake Michigan and the architecture is amazing; it kind of looks like a big boat with wings. The wings open at 10 am, noon, and at 5, they close for the night. You can stand in a glass solarium and watch the wings open; an event I've missed so far... next trip for sure. Since then, I've returned on a couple of occasions for different exhibitions. (I've been there more than the Art Institute right in Chicago during the same time frame!)

I've taken the tour of the home of Milwaukee's pioneer brewing family (and 5 archbishops), Captain Frederick Pabst, which has been restored to it's original splendor. I've visited the Harley Davidson museum, and last summer I took a boat ride on Lake  Michigan. 

What I love about Milwaukee is that it's like a ghost town on the week-ends. You can drive and park ANYWHERE, and their parking prices are not nearly as ridiculously high as Chicago's.

I have gone up there and shopped their antique and thrift stores. Into cheese? I stopped at a Cheese Castle on the way home one visit that was pretty pricey but offered lots of goodies. I think whatever your interests are, Milwaukee makes a fun, easy, fast getaway; try it!

I have a Website!

I got started blogging when I had to take classes in order to teach online. I received a Master Certificate in Online Teaching from University of Illinois last year. The program consisted of 6 courses, all online, covering various aspects of online teaching. I had to take a technology course and for that I had to create a blog; that was the beginning of this endeavor. Additionally, I had to create a podcast. That was a challenge! I did it and it had to be hosted on a site and have an RSS feed on iTunes and the whole bit. I now look back with wonder that I was able to do that because I couldn't do it again today, I'm afraid.      

While I only made one podcast, it was an English lesson, of course, as that is my profession. However, I continued using the podcast site with my face-to-face classes. I added grammar lessons as we did them and then found YouTube videos that went along with the grammar practice. So now, we spend our time in class practicing reading, writing and speaking and just go to computers to do the grammar.      

Unbelievably enough, the site has gotten over 20,000 visitors! I am shocked and amazed. Some of my students have told me they posted it on their Facebook pages, and the Dean of my program at City Colleges added it to our Adult Ed website. When school started on January 14th, it was just turning over to 10,000. Today, a mere 3 months later, it's almost doubled that number. I have to say, the wonders of the internet never cease to astound me.      

My one and only podcast is at the very bottom of the page under Non-Action Verbs, if you're interested take a look/or listen, at:

http://shaylo99.podbean.com/

Waldo

So, this is my live-in companion Waldo. What a character! I've lived with all kinds of animals; dogs, cats, rabbits, fish, snakes, and turtles, but my pet of choice today is this intelligent, funny Amazonian parrot. 

When I got married in 1985 and moved into my husband's home; I joined two dogs, two cats, an eel in a big fish tank, and Waldo. I'd lived with cats and dogs before but never a bird. It was a difficult time in my life for me; new husband, pregnant, new animals around and I didn't know anything about birds. Don't think my husband did either; he just got it from some looney tune who lived behind us, who, now that I think about it, probably was dealing in illegal small animals and birds, but that's a whole other story.

So, Waldo had a big wrought iron cage and I wound up feeding him daily as he grew to dislike any males. I lived with him for 10 years like that; he in the cage, maybe a couple of toys around and locked in at all times. When we got divorced, he wound up going to my in-laws house and lived there for almost 17 years. I think on occasion, they let him out just to see him terrorize the dogs in the house.

When my father-in-law passed away in July of 2011, Waldo wound up coming back to live with me. I had given my beloved dog Sam to my ex-husband who has 6 other dogs and lives on 5 acres of land in Indiana, so it seemed only fair I took Waldo.

This time around though I was in a much different place in my life; it was just him and me. I started doing some research on the Internet (I'd like to think that when I moved in with him the first time that if the Internet was around, I would have checked out life with parrots; but it's history now.) One day, I went into Windy City Parrots in Chicago. I'm grateful that the proprietor give me so much information about life with parrots that day. The thing that impressed me, and that has changed Waldo's life the most, was letting me know that putting toys all around his cage was akin to leaves on trees. That birds are fearful of their predators and need camouflage and protection. Wow! that made such a difference in the little guy's life. I wove some newspaper strips around his food bowls and at various places around the cage. It was affirming to see just how much he enjoyed some privacy. He can hide if he wants, and he isn't just out in the open for anyone to see at any time.

Anyway, he has free reign now and even though he knows he can fly, he likes to walk around on the floors a lot. He squawks and whistles to the TV and LOVES white noise; any time the vacuum or  juicer is on, he's whistling. I just realized he's into blondes. About 2 years ago, I had a blond friend over and as she sat on the couch, he walked across the floor from where his cage is and was down on the floor by her feet looking to get her attention. We just laughed and said "Waldo has a girlfriend."  Again, a couple of weeks ago, a different blond friend was here and he was by her feet twice. That was really crazy, she had on these high boots, why he'd want to put himself in such a vulnerable position as to be on the floor is beyond me, but I think he was makin' time with these ladies. He's that kind of bird, he's got chutzpah!

Plagarism

Weird story and confession:
When I was a sophomore at Western Illinois University, I got busted by an English professor for plagarism. Yeah, that was a freaky experience. The assignment was to write a 3-page paper on I-forget-what, without using any outside sources. Well, I found a Time, or some other news magazine, that I used a paragraph from to get the paper going. Clearly, an example of plagarism, I admit. I turned the paper in and then it was finals week. It was December, and it was really, reallllly cold outside when I had to walk across some wide open fields to get to the building far on the other side of campus. When I got there, late (ahem), I came in the door situated in the back of the class and the teacher's desk was in the front, I saw that the rest of the students were already well into taking their tests. So, I walked up to the professor who handed me back my paper along with the final exam. As I was heading to my seat, I looked down at the paper and saw it had big red printing on it that said: "Plagarism results in Failure in the class." Stunned, I turned around and went back and asked if I should take the final, and he said "No," his face was all red and uptight and angry. I remember saying something like, or exactly, "I'm sorry I thought you were so stupid."

So, due to that experience, I am sensitive to the issue of taking credit for that which is not mine. I want to make clear that anything on this site is notated where possible where things came from. I would never knowingly "steal" another's work and call it my own... ever. However, I have to add; I do take content off the web in bits and pieces and add it to papers, articles, projects, etc. and who doesn't?

In today's internet world, it's hard to know what the boundaries are or when one is crossing that boundary. I took classes at U of I with a slew of professors where the issue was discussed and ultimately, left unresolved. When does forwarding emails, posting to walls, Twitter, Facebook etc. cross a line and become plagiarism? What is legit and what is not cool? 

Why does it seem like only written words are the sacred stuff? I read a book about Leonardo da Vinci (see sidebar on right for title) and the Vitruvian Man he drew. That was not at all something unique that da Vinci did, matter of fact, it was Vitruvius 1500 years before da Vinci that described his idea of the human anatomy as a microcosm of the whole world; thus the square and circle, both representing the earth and sky. Other Renaissance artists drew that idea in various versions before da Vinci. Why is it not plagiarism in the visual arts or music? When you "borrow," as is often the case, a few notes, a bit of melody, a style, why is this not considered plagiarism? Can't one be inspired by, do works based on, use a tidbit to "get going" into something original. I thought there was nothing new under the sun, that all we see is just what we've already seen only recreated in new ways? If you have thoughts on this, please comment.

Continuing...

Wow! I haven't been contributing or even thinking about this blog in a long, long time. I've got the week off and with free time, have been able to update what I started here. I stopped writing because I couldn't decide who I was writing to, or why I was bothering. Now, even though I still don't know the answer to those questions, I've decided I enjoy writing, and maybe even have something to say about life after all these years of living, so why not share my perspective with anyone who happens to surf by. If you are reading this now, my warm hello, and thanks for spending a minute or two with me.