Beginning, Middle, End

Raul Borbón, presente

It isn't often one has the honor of being beside someone who is dying, or of being included with those who are there to pay their last respects. But, there I was.

You would never immediately notice when Raul entered a room. There was nothing flashy about him. If you had noticed him you might have thought he was a teacher or somebody's good looking uncle. He was that and he was so much more.

He was the embodiment of his beliefs. His wife and soulmate Susana shared that he would take pain pills before he would lead meetings. He wanted the meetings to be focused on skills needed for members of the immigrant Latino community to become involved and empowered. He didn't want his pain to detract from that focus. He'd much rather work from humor, love, and the belief that there were always options for making life better.

The room we were in was large by hospital standards. The hospital staff had placed Raul there because it was at the end of the hall and there were visitors that kept coming, and coming, and coming. One by one they would talk to Raul. His children arrived from Mexico and there was a silent exodus from the room that they might have some time with their father.

Throughout the evening there were some tears, but mostly silence. A measured, pained silence - the sort that is almost comforting because all understand what is being shared. And all understand the inevitable outcome.

Every once in a while those gathered would share with each other something of the gifts he had shared. "Me dijo, hay opciones" - "He told me there are options". "Yes, options, options, there are always options". "He was patient". "His sense of humor". "He was determined". He was committed to public education; even to the end. He donated his body to UCLA rather than USC since the former is a public school.

At one point last night, a woman in a skinny-strapped green dress asked those assembled if we might pray. There was an almost audible nodding of heads and then without a word a circle was formed. Words of conviction and deep love were shared and at the conclusion of the circle there was a call to acknowledge his life and his work by applause.

In that hospital room, and resounding down the hall, was the applause that begins at a slow pace, finding its point of unity, gradually grows louder as the sound more and more finds its center, and then becomes more rapid as an expression of resounding commitment to a common goal. It was recognition that Raul's presence will continue to be a part of the work to be done.

There will be a celebration of Raul's life and his work this coming Friday, December 2nd at 6 p.m. at the Villa Parke Community Center.

image - Pocho1 - https://www.facebook.com/pocho1.fotography

A Holiday Parade

Not a lot of us can use co-founder and parade in a sentence and get away with it. I feel that I am lucky to be able to do so. On occasion I've been in the Latino Heritage Parade; some years we've had spare cars - and their drivers - and in order for them to be in the parade they've needed a spare body. Ta da - Roberta or other board members get to ride in the parade.

Once Kevin Bruce and I rode in the back of Gemcar - that was very cool. We were celebrating the 60s and we were very "peace out" in character. Another year we rode with District 1 Field Rep Tina Williams and in a trailer that was pulled by a tractor that was owned and driven by Steve of Steve's Bikes in Altadena.

This coming Sunday, December 4th I've been invited to ride in the 67th Annual Northesat Los Angeles Holiday Parade. The parade begins at 1 p.m and will proceed from N. Figueroa and Ave. 60, southbound to Sycamore Grove Park in Highland Park. It is the city's second oldest parade and is hosted by the Highland Park Chamber of Commerce, with collaboration from the offices of L.A. City Councilmembers Ed Reyes and Jose Huizar.

I feel greatly honored by the invite and plan to embrace the theme "Fantasy on Figueroa". I'm not sure what I'll be riding or what I might wear. I have my doubts I will be wearing my Hippie wear or riding a tractor. But who knows...?

image - James Grimes

Go Team

Often I think of historians as being a part of a team. Being fall, that makes me think of a football team. Quarterback, end receiver, halfback, running back - each wonderfully skilled in what they do and each more effective for working together. TEAM.

Gary Cowles is a member of our local team. I met him in his role as a local historian with a passion for knowledge of gardens and water. Pasadena is a good place to have that interest. He was one of the curators of an exhibit on the topic at the Pasadena Museum of History.

He also has a real interest in the use and distribution of land that took place in the 19th century when the "mission lands" were secularized. Who received grants and who didn't. Why they received grants and so on.

Working with primary documents, and working with his own team, he came up with documents like one above. A picture is worth a thousand words. Perhaps a map can be worth even more.

Image photo - James Grimes

"Water Began It All: A New Look at the San Gabriel Mission", Huntington Library, Art Collections, and Botanical Gardens

Cheli shares - Call it 3/50 or call it Indie, shop it local

Spend $100 at a local and $68 stays in your community. Spend $100 at a national chain, and your community see $43. Local retailers are your friends and neighbors - support them and they can better support you.

Why shop Indie?

When you shop at an independently owned business, your entire community benefits:

The Economy

• Local businesses create higher-paying jobs for our neighbors.
• More of your taxes are reinvested in your community--where they belong.

The Environment

• Buying local means less packaging, less transportation, and a smaller carbon footprint.
• Shopping in a local business district means less infrastructure, less maintenance, and more money to beautify your community.

The Community

• Local businesses donate to charities at more than twice the rate of national chains.
• More independents means more choice, more diversity, and a truly unique community.

Now is the time to stand up and join your fellow individuals in the IndieBound mission supporting local businesses and celebrating independents.

IndieBound supports Independent Business Alliances around the country.

To find an alliance near you, visit AMIBA or BALLE.

http://www.amiba.net/

http://www.livingeconomies.org/ (BALLE)

http://www.the350project.net/home.html

11/24/11

Happy Thanksgiving!

Pete R. Martinez

It was always clear that my dad's birthday was in November. I usually have trouble remembering the correct day - to tell the truth I now look to his obit to remember the date. He contributed to my confusion, because as long as he could manage it, he lied about his age. Year born - variable depending upon his mood and the audience or company present.

Very non-traditional family - father lies about age by as great a span as possible, mother embraces every year.

The confusion about his birthday was reinforced by the fact that it often fell on Thanksgiving. The two celebrations seemed entwined. Only problem is T'day is a movable feast.

In our house this was especially true. Being a small number we usually feasted at someone else's house. More likelihood that memories are informed by different surroundings and people around the table. More opportunities for confusion in memory.With my father now here in spirit only, I have chosen to think of T'day as his b'day. He would have loved that somehow the day became his.

Happy birthday Dad.

Sharing history

I was asked, given the opportunity really, to speak about Latino Heritage and our Shared History in front of the PEF Program Committee.

The facilitator/teacher in me wouldn't be denied so I put together a quick activity that offered the opportunity for both interaction among those attending and an example of how our community history might be shared. I pointed out a typo - Mr. Owen was a singular man.

The directions: Take a minute to look at the entities on the grid. Identify the ones you know and can identify well enough that you could share facts about them with another person. If someone asks you about them write your name in that square; you could not sign off on your own sheet. The point was to see how many squares you could fill. The group was alloted 5 minutes. Scurry, question, smile, laugh, scurry, scurry, "oh", scurry. Time.

Food for thought: Because of the brevity of time for the activity, there were groups who have a history here that were not included. What groups might that be? How might that be worked into a post activity discussion? How might this be shared with the community? How might this translate in the classroom?

The room was filled with a group that reflected the make up of our community. Bill Creim, Program Chair, shared that all of us have a need to know who we are as individuals and that we desire to have knowledge of where we came from. Indiana or Italy, Michoacan or Michigan, Minsk or Montana: our family's experiences contribute to who we are.

Someone shared that students they'd been working with wanted to have a Mix It Up Day - one where folks learned about each other's background. I couldn't help but think of the following - "Preservation of one's own culture does not require contempt or disrespect for other cultures" - Cesar Chavez. I think the folks at the meeting yesterday would agree.

The last lights of day

I had a wild idea yesterday.

James - quick let's go to the Huntington. I knew that there was an exhibit of Michael J Hart's work - "Water Began it All". It's there through February 19, 2012, but I know how quickly my plans are subsumed by new plans or deadlines.

So away we went, dashing to the entry, through the grounds and to the Botanical Center's Flora-Legium gallery. And the images were spectacular. I know we'll go back again to drink in more of Mr. Harts' hand-colored maps and illustrations. Think of the details of an illustrated manuscript with the focus on the San Gabriel Mission and our local region. Fine images and a section where one can place overlays on maps to see what was and in a layered sort of way.

What a joyous surprise to see the work by independent researcher Gary Cowles. I'll share them in a separate post.

As if all that I mentioned wasn't enough, we left the grounds as the sky was taking a serious turn to night and enjoyed the last lights of day.

image - James Grimes

And from Rancho Cucamonga

One of the very cool items that was shared at the California Library Association Convention last week was the digital history work that has taken place in Pasadena and in Rancho Cucamonga (RC).

Because RC is a fairly young city they have a manageable amount of images to wrangle. Yes, wrangle is the term I think of when I think of collections of historical experiences represented mathematically or visually. Once you get a sense of history, you learn another fact, or in this case find another image, and there you are, having to regather your thoughts, review and come to a conclusion again.

But I digress - a thought wandered in and I had a need to wrangle.

See.

RC having a much smaller number of images also means that they can fairly quickly present an interpreted history via current technology.

These are images of icells that can display digitzed documents and photos. A wave of a hand over a category and a brief slideshow is presented. Voila, instant historical tease. Or, I'm betting because this computer related, a theme can be presented. I know they also have brief oral histories that can be viewed.

They have these icells in the local history room at City Hall in Rancho Cucamonga and at Victoria Gardens, their super sized shopping mall .

History, up close and made personal.

Looks like a good idea to me.

By the way, I have been challenged technically and can't find a good image that will espand. Sorry.

"The Impact of a Starburst...

in a Low Metallicity Environment". Or how about a discussion of remote sensing focused on the "...Reduction of Emission from Deforestation and Forest Degradation"?

Those were a couple of the topics that were presented as a poster session at JPL today. Pretty low tech - poster up, presenter available and willing to talk with you about a topic they've been investigating.

Interesting note was that all the scientists and engineers presenting were Latino or were of Latino heritage. What a kick to have this young scientist, originally from Argentina, share her work in Spanish. The Hub in the library at JPL was resounding with English, Spanish, and Scientific vocabulary.

While there we also hears about a young student who was laughed at by his classmates when he shared he wanted to be a scientist. They felt they were much more sophisticated and wanted to become recording artists, movie stars, and celebrities.

Wish there were a happy ending to this tale. But this time there isn't. Despite his being helped by a local community volunteer to find a group that could help him achieve his dream. They reached out to him, but weren't able to help his parents understand, or perhaps sacrifice; the benefits of the future vs. for the needs of the present. In the end the mother tossed his lab coat in the trash.

I'm hoping that sometime in the future he finds the strength to reach back to his dreams and makes them real. Maybe someday he'll meet a young scientist, or someone who loves science, and a dream will become vivid again.

Larry and Leia keep James company

Though James missed me while I was in Portland, he didn't complain

about being at cold at night.

I see why.

Still, life and love

James is a lover of Mother Nature.

I have a fine appreciation for nature, but his soul seems freer in the out of doors. I suspect it's one of the things I most appreciate about him.

Which is why I was a bit surprised when he sent me this image while I was away in Portland.

No comment, no words, just the photo.

I happen to be the only female in the house who would take advantage of any of these jewels, so I'm guessing that the elements on the dresser reminded him of me and it was one way of: sharing that he was looking forward to my return, telling me how this reminded him of me, thinking it was funny - 'cuz it is.

Really must get around to asking him about this.

On Love and Light

Went to a wedding this last Saturday. Our dear friend Michaela married her love, Lalo, and it was a lovely service. It was a "don't even think of wearing mascara" wedding mass since the couple shared their commitment to each other and to their work in the community with a sincerity that was genuine and stunning.

After the service there were lots of pictures taken on my iPhone, none of which, were blog worthy.

While folks with real cameras were taking fine photos, I found myself wandering around exploring nooks and crannies at St. Philip the Apostle Roman Catholic church on Hill Avenue, near PCC.

While dithering around the attention to detail that was given to this small bit of the chapel caught my attention. Setting metallic tiles so that they are not flush is done intentionally so that the light will reflect light and catch the eye. It's likely that this is real marble, so now you have some ideas of what you can do with that spare marble you may have after a big project.

Directly across from the marble and gold was an altar, treated as ofrenda, that was still festooned with the elements one finds for Día de los muertos. It caught my eye, too, but for a very different reason. Like the gold tile it reflects a light that is bright and that is greatly valued by those who have come to learn about, and understand, its meaning.

Stylebook reads

The National Hispanic Media Coalition is a national group that has an office in Pasadena. There are several of us in the Pasadena area who are working with them to encourage more frequent, more diverse, and generally better coverage of the Latino community.

One of the ways that we have been doing this is by going to visit local media outlets and share concerns as well as opportunities for achieving this task. At a recent meeting there was a request that the phrase "illegal immigrants" not be used. There are several studies that show that contrary to the AP's position that this is "accurate and neutral for news stories." The quick response was that this was the phrase that is used in the AP Stylebook. I guess it is to journalists as the Chicago Manual of Style is to writers.

So dear readers, if you are so inclined, please check out the links below, and let your voice be heard. Sometimes words don't seem like much unless you, or those you care about, are affected by the use of a label; even the most subtle differences in language usage can have an impact a person or a group.

"We're already looking ahead to the 2012 edition of the AP Stylebook and would like to hear from you. What new entries would you like to see? What terms would you like defined? What questions would you like us to answer?

Stylebook editors will consider all submissions when putting together the new Stylebook, and some may be used.

The editors also will select their favorite suggestions and give the winners either a free year's subscription to AP Stylebook Online or a free download of the AP Stylebook mobile app for iPhone, iPod touch or BlackBerry".

http://www.apstylebook.com/?do=social_media

http://www.nhmc.org/

Our Babies

2011 pomegranate crop.

Happy Terry's Day

One of the best things about having this blog is that isn't geographically limited. Or for that matter topic limited. That may diminish readership, but it allows me to write about things within and without the city. Like, say, um, my cousin's birthday party.

What do you give a woman on her 72nd birthday? Especially if she's not had a birthday party since she was 16? You guessed - a birthday party that is filled with yummy food, family and more family. Yes, her name is Arriola now, but she is a Martinez through and through, so she planned the main course, the dessert, and the music that played as we danced the night away.

She sat at the head table with her husband John, a man who came into her life, well, a long time after high school. He, like a lot of us at the party, recognized the grandmotherly and maternal images that were flashed on screen as her life was shared in pictures. Like a lot of us at the party, he might not have recognized as a young bride, a high school graduate, or the skinny little girl in the First Communion Dress.

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words and sometimes a picture carries no hint of the child that is, forgive me Mr. Wordsworth, mother of the woman. Who would think that little skinny Terry would often serve as surrogate mother and eternal "rock" for all family members? Who would expect that she would be a single mom whose daughters would grow up to have Dr. and PhD. as part of their professional titles?

How good and healthy to get together just 'cause. So much better than some of the other reasons we gather together when the person we're focused on is in their 7th and 8th decades of life.

images - James Grimes

2012 CLA Conference

Had a chance to spend time at the California Library Association Conference today. The sky and the convention worked together to equal a day of So Cal beauty. Heard several comments about why some of the first Midwest colonists came here. Based on today, I think they made a really great choice.

There were the standard job related workshops, advocacy discussion groups and exhibitors. If you enter the north end of Pasadena Central Library you'll see a variation on a version of 21st Century library lending. This good woman put on her best Vanna demeanor and chuckled as I took her picture.
Very appropriate. As was the cheers that came from the librarians watching the libraries version of Dancing with the Stars. What? You can't imagine what that might be?

Why it's the CLA Book Cart Drill Team Competition, of course. Here are the staid librarians taking their moment immediately before their 1st place performance. Think Black Swan with book carts.

They beat out other groups - including this group from Berkeley who choreographed their movements to "Born to be Wild". Part of their performance included a stripping off of their jackets to reveal phrases that included "1st Amendment" and "patron privacy".

Don't think I'll ever be able to think of librarians as being gray haired, prissy, "shhs'ers" again.

"Knock, knock"

"Who's There"?

"Head Cold".

"Head Cold That".

"Head Cold That I brought back from Portland".

Not surprised - you spend a week around two girls who go to school and are under 8 and the odds of catching colds rises tremendously.

So this afternoon I was in a nosedrop/neti pot set of mind.

As I was driving up Fair Oaks I thought about going to CVS.

Then a 3/50 Project thought bounced around my beleaguered brain and I drove up Lake to Webster's Community Pharmacy.

I could fulfill pharmaceutical needs, stop by Webster's Fine Stationary for card and wrapping paper for a wedding gift for Saturday, and support family owned businesses.

Done, done, and done. Plus, I had a chance to chat with store owner Scott.

Manuela Enriqueta Villa de Martinez

Yesterday would have been my mother's 99th birthday.

She was wise, funny, could be moderately obscene, and totally full of mischief.

We lived together, more on than off, for almost fifty years. I lived in my parents house until I was 21 and was married. Over the next decade we saw a bit less of each other because of distance and transportation issues. Within 6 months of James, Kate, and me moving to Pasadena she and my dad moved in with us. We lived together until illness made it necessary for them to move to a convalescent home.

She loved both of our kids and did everything in her power to spoil them in small ways - when she could. She had been spoiled by the grandmother who raised her and felt other children should receive the same shamelessly spoilful loving.

She loved to retell tales where she had been naughty as a child. She would tell the tale with the same inflections and pauses, time after time. When I was really young I quickly would grow bored with the story. As we both aged I came to appreciate the rhythm and intonation that I heard in my head just as the words came out of her mouth. I am lucky that we recorded some of her story telling.

Once we were chatting while she was lying on her bed - sorry to say no tape recorder in sight - and she began to start another story. "You know, when I was a baby, they used my...my... (searching for word) buggy to move contraband to Pancho Villa's troops. They'd put the flour or sugar or whatever ( I never asked what that might have been) under the mattress like thing, put me on top, and covered me with a blanket. We'd go to the border, cross the border, and leave the contraband in Mexico".

"Mom, why have you never told me this before???? You know how I love history. You know I love family stories."

A slow smile stretched across her face - "Well... you never asked". Even bigger smile.

Miss you Mom.

And on those 970 miles

There are certain advantages to being the lesser in a certain skill. James is the much better photographer, but I have "mastered" the technique of pointing and shooting without taking time to see what I've shot.

I guess you could think of this as see, point camera without looking, and pray technique. Sometimes there is visual noise that I crop out and sometimes there is no using the image.
Sometimes the images the image works in spite of my efforts. I find this particularly handy as I travel from Pasadena to Portland. On those trips where I am driving solo I don't like to stop much, but do see some beautiful things along the way. The fog and the light in this section of N. California was breathtaking.Sometimes the story is more about the journey than the portrait. This was on another breathtaking part of the journey. The journey became even more breathtaking shortly after this image, so the only technique used was breathing deeply and watching the road at all times.
This was the second time I went across the Siskiyou in snowfall. Not a first choice I would willingly make, but I found myself the lead, as the snowplows went back and forth getting ready for work. Turns out we were the last group to not need chains.

I'll travel the road again to Portland, part of my heart is there, but will look forward to doing so in a month when the snowplows are out of commission.

What a difference 4 years make

In 2007 I came to Portland to spend Halloween with three year old Lili. We put together a fairly impromptu ofrenda for Día de los muertos. We included folks from both sides of the extended family and looked around the house for items that would have been appreciated by the departed. We couldn't find pan de muerto and I found a calavera (sugar skull) after some heavy duty searching.

This year Cheli is now the three year old in the family. It was easy to find Día de los muertos in Portland on the net. The first images were centered in Downtown, or hipper sections of town, and looked like the Love Child of Día and Zombies R' Us, informed by a Mardi Gras parade. Wonderful in its own right, but it appeared deeper with drama and theatrics than with connections to those who were beloved and who had passed on.

A bit more net exploring turned up the Día celebration near the Alberta section of town.

This was coordinated by folks with who have roots in the areas where Día de los muertos has been taking place for centuries - not a zombie in sight. La Catrina was evident and there was as much explanation about what the night is about as much as there was a description of events to take place. On November 1st, Kate, Lili, Cheli, and I set out to NE Portland to share in Día de los muertos.

When we arrived we found La Catrina, decked out in flowers. Atole, pan de muerto, and tamales were readily available. The store owners in the area actively participated in putting together ofrendas that included the elements of water, candles and items that were special to those who have passed on.

This ofrenda, outside a bar/coffee house, was for a gentleman for whom horses and whiskey had real meaning in his life.

Outside a vintage shop: curves, warm colors and a framed image - mid 20th century.

This ofrenda was a mix of symbolism that was rich in design and the Cempaxochitl (marigold) were a brilliant counterpoint to the serape.

There was a communal ofrenda that was designed to welcome additions from everyone. Lili and Cheli placed pictures of my mother and grandfather on the ofrenda and added flowers. Our tokens of remembrance placed beside those whose names and faces we will never know. Kate and I told the girls about "Uela" and "Grandpa Cesareo", including their relationships to them. It was an opportunity to share that my grandpa was Cheli's bisabuelito (great grandfather).

Decorating the calaveras was fun as was seeing the young folks dancing folklorico. A most meaningful moment took place the next day when I referred to my grandpa, and little three year old Cheli, pointedly said, "My bisabuelito". I nodded and on went the story. A little bit of cultural preservation and familial memory was in evidence.

I don't know as I smiled outwardly, but I had a huge grin in my heart.

Vampires of a Portland kind

There are many fine reasons for coming to Portland. Bridges, it is known as Bridgetown, food, youthful exuberance, and business with minimal bureaucracy.

But my personal reasons have to do with three things I don't find elsewhere.

Cute Vampire Horses...

Sweet Vampire Dragons...

and the interaction between these very different Vampires.