In which Frederick Douglass gets me into hot water

I got myself over my head in a feature story reporting situation this week.

I thought I was going to write a short feature about the new owner of a historical building--a home where Frederick Douglass once lived on Capitol Hill, just around the corner from us.

I wanted to talk to the new owner about how they were going to handle the historic nature of the purchased property. It would be a follow-up to a story by the Washington Post about the building's sale: I thought I could pitch it to the Post, the Hill Rag, or even just post it on my blog, here.

But what I got was stonewalling from three different sources.

Apparently, someone doesn't want me to write that story . . .

Let me back up a bit.

I wrote in an earlier blog post that there's a plaque outside a house around the corner from us marking a home where Frederick Douglass once lived.

Look, here he is in an old photo, standing outside that house!

Kinda grainy photo, but there he is!

Here I am in front of the house.

Douglass lived here with his family from 1872-1877 where he worked to support Grant's reelection and then later worked for the Freedman's Bank. After being appointed United States Marshal for the District, he moved to Cedar Hill, a bigger home on an acreage in Anacostia.

Cedar Hill in Anacostia is owned by the National Park Service--and visiting it was one of my favorite DC excursions so far: you should definitely go see it if you visit DC! But the Capitol Hill house isn't owned by the National Park Service. It's owned by a nonprofit, the National Association for Home Care and Hospice, which uses the space for a "Caring Hall of Fame" and for gatherings.

The organization's purchasing contract required it to allot a small portion of the building as a public exhibit, which the organization calls the "Frederick Douglass House Museum." There's a small collection of items relevant to Frederick Douglass, including a desk he used and some photos. You have to make an appointment to see it.

The above photo is from when Bruce and I went over to the building to see if we could get a tour of the museum. As we entered, we saw that an event was going on for the nonprofit. We asked at the desk whether we could come back for a tour sometime.

"We're closing," said the person at the desk. "This property has been sold to a developer and we're closing this week."

Well, that surprised me. Can you do that? Sell a historical property to a developer?

I wanted to know more about that: what's the process for selling a historical building? What responsibilities does the new owner have? And plus, I've gotten interested in Frederick Douglass since we've arrived.  That's how I got the idea for a story about what would happen to that historical property in my neighborhood--I'm all about "local" features! So I started investigating.

But no one would talk to me.

The VP of the nonprofit "was in" when I called, but once I told his assistant what I wanted to ask about, he suddenly became "not available."

The real estate agent connected with the property never returned my calls.

The person at the National Parks office at Cedar Hill told me he'd pass my info on to their historian, but then called me back, directing me to the VP of the nonprofit.

The only person I was able to talk with was Christine Healey, the Advisory Neighborhood Commission representative for our ward and neighborhood. She said she wouldn't go on the record, but gave me some useful background and context.

She hadn't known that the building had been sold, but figured everyone was being hush-hush until the developer decided what to do with the property.

What could they do? Probably ask for a zoning change and create more residential units. Row houses go for about $880K to $1 million or more apiece here in Capitol Hill, according to Zillow.

Screen shot of property values in the block where the buildings are located. 

The Frederick Douglass property included 4 row houses and a smattering of buildings in the back (some of which could be converted to residences). So that could be a good investment.

Because it's in a historical district, any kind of modification (or, horrors, a tear-down) would be subject to approval by the city and the Advisory Neighborhood Commission. Most developers want to be on good terms with neighbors.

Neighbors don't like change, that's the main thing, Healey told me. And they worry about a number of things when a developer buys property: will property values be affected? will there be more congestion because of more people living here? will tenants of the new residence (if that's what it becomes) be good tenants: quiet and respectful of this quiet, family-friendly neighborhood?

"But what about the historical aspect of the building," I asked. "Won't people want to have the house somehow preserved as a historical site, open to the public in some way?"

She didn't think so. She thought that probably people would be more worried about whether on-street parking would suddenly become more difficult to find.

On-street parking in this neighborhood is tight. 

Ms. Healey offered to put me on a list of people interested in this issue, so that we can be contacted if any information becomes available. I eagerly accepted.

Maybe I can be a voice for public history here. Certainly it adds something to a neighborhood that there is a historical and public site connected to one of the most important figures in American History.

Frederick Douglass as an older man. I wonder if this photo was taken when he lived on Capitol Hill.

Could a developer possibly be brought to see the importance of maintaining, possibly just as part of the overall development, a public space honoring Douglass's years of living in the home at 316 A St. NE?

Fitness, Race, and DC

I've been thinking this week about fitness and race in DC.

There was an article in Monday's Washington Post that asked "Is your spin class too young, too thin, and too white?" It was an analysis of the boutique fitness centers that are "exploding in gentrifying urban areas," places like SoulCycle, Orangetheory, Crossfit, and Pure Barre. The author points out that

fitness junkies have begun to notice who isn’t coming. Sweat through a class in one of these studios and it’s very possible that you’ll see it, too: many, many lithe young white bodies and very few people of color. Or older or heavier exercisers.

This statement made me think about my own exercise activities in DC, which are actually some of the more diverse places I spend time in DC.

Bruce and I swim laps at the William Rumsey Aquatic Center, just a few blocks from our apartment.

The Rumsey pool is a beautiful facility! and free for residents to use!

It's a public pool, and, unlike the pricey boutique fitness classes mentioned in the article, residents of DC swim free! Bruce and I just take a copy of our lease, along with our driver's licenses, and we're in! While there aren't many men who swim when we do (mid-day), the women's locker room is usually filled with a diverse group of women: African American, white, old, young, all shapes and sizes. There's a blind woman who comes with her service dog, and a deaf woman, too.

The other place I exercise (or shall I say practice a physical art) is with the Washington Ballet School.

I take classes there once a week--they have a ton of adult classes at every level. While the class I've settled into isn't particularly diverse in terms of race or sex (all the women are "white" or Asian), there are women of all ages, from 20-somethings to maybe 70, and different shapes, too--not all are ballet-slim!

And Washington Ballet also offers a couple of beginner adult ballet classes in Anacostia, a neighborhood of Washington that's maybe 90% African American. The teachers and most of the students there are African American.

Thinking about race and fitness made me wonder about the racial demographics of DC in general. In the mid-20th century, DC was a majority-black city . . . even today, the percentage of African-American population in DC is just under 50%.

In my day-to-day activities, I encounter more African American people here than I do in Cedar Rapids: I grocery shop next to other middle-aged, middle class black women; Bruce and I are often the only non-African American people on the D6 city bus; and the church I'm attending is more racially-mixed than most churches.

But Bruce has pointed out to me that in lots of places, places of culture and of political connection--despite the demographics of DC--we're part of a mostly-white crowd. For example, the play we attended last Saturday--about Frederick Douglass and John Brown--at the Anacostia Playhouse. Despite the neighborhood and subject matter, the audience was mostly white.

That free jazz concert I attended at the Library of Congress?

Musicians=white, too.

Mostly white audience.

The free public lecture about alleys in Capitol Hill (alley residences were typically inhabited by African Americans in the post-Civil War era)? Mostly white, older audience.

Yesterday, Bruce attended a meeting that discussed the DC Comprehensive Plan, the plans for Washington's future. He heard some statistics about race that shocked me.

One of the speakers at that meeting, DC Council Member Kenyan McDuffie, noted that the average household wealth in DC is $284,000 for whites . . . and $3,500 for blacks.

Let that sink in a minute.

Another Council Member, Robert C. White, pointed out that in DC, black unemployment is six times higher than white: SIX TIMES. As in less than 3% for whites and 16% for blacks.

Something's not right in this Chocolate City. I wonder what will happen with this city that used to be a majority black city. Will it become like the boutique fitness centers, catering to white, wealthy people? Or will DC look more like the William Rumsey pool that offers opportunities to all residents?

The Iowa Senators throw a party

This was the scene outside the Russell Senate Building, just a few blocks from where we live, this morning. A long line of people standing in the cold wind!

We were in this long queue.  Why? Because Senator Grassley and Senator Ernst invited us, that's why!

It was the annual Spring Break Reception for Iowans, hosted by the two Iowa Senators.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a big fan of either of those senators. Their voting records and their public personas have been known to make me exclaim "What is the matter with [him/her]?" I mean, "Make 'em squeal"?  I mean, working to repeal Obamacare because "Republicans campaigned on it. That's pretty much as much of a reason as the substance of the bill." 

But really, they are my elected officials, even if I didn't personally vote for them. And plus, I am curious: I wanted to know how many other people would be there, why they might go to the reception, etc. etc.

Because the line to get into the building was long, it gave me plenty of time to talk to the people around me and ask them what brought them here. Not all of them were there for the Iowa reception.

Two women behind us were there from Atlanta and were going in to visit with the Georgia senators about support for foster care issues. "Senator Grassley is one of our champions," one of the women says. "He supports foster programs." Another woman was there as part of an MBA program.

The Russell Senate Office Building, where the reception took place, was built in the early 1900s. It's very stately and grand.

And this room, where the reception was held, was where the Titanic Hearings were held back in 1913. The Watergate hearings, the Iran-Contra hearings, and Clarence Thomas's nomination hearings were held in this room, too.

Inside the elegant reception room,  there was a big crowd, milling about and enjoying coffee and donuts. I'd been hoping for a reception line, like at a wedding, to shake the hands of the senators. But no: at first, it was more like a couple of scrums.

After eating a donut for sustenance, I decided to make an attempt to shake one of the senators' hands. Near Joni Ernst, a line was forming out of the scrum, so we decided on her.

In the line with us were lots of other Iowans, at the reception for different reasons:

• a garrulous, bearded guy with a Farm Bureau pin on his lapel. "What do farmers want from the senators?" I asked. Apparently they want low property taxes (probably not in a Senator's area--that's a state issue). And they are horrified by Trumps tariffs, which will hurt agricultural trade, or at least that's what the farmers fear.
• a family from Indianola, in DC for spring break, and just wanting a photo op with the senator
• an attorney from Cedar Rapids, who wanted to bring employment issues (medical leave, etc.) to the Senator's attention
• a group of people lobbying for continued financial support for TRIO, a Federal government program that offers support to students from disadvantaged backgrounds (Coe has a TRIO program, so I was glad to talk with someone from that group!)

As I stood in line, I planned what I wanted to say:

1. Thank Senator Ernst for holding this reception, 
2. Thank her and her staff for responding to my calls and emails. 
3. Urge Senator Ernst to do anything she can to financially support the arts and humanities. 

Yes, there were many other things I could have bent her ear about. But as a US Senator, she can't do anything about these stupid ideas that I have strong feelings against: states deciding to arm teachers, lifting clean water regulations in Iowa, cutting education funding in Iowa, electing Donald Trump--so I chose something that she was just lobbied about by a colleague and other Friends of the Humanities. The federal government has always provided financial support for the arts and humanities in the US. We want that to continue.

So that's what I did. She shook my hand. She listened (or at least looked like she was listening) and said the expected things. An aide was taking notes. He also took this photo for me.

She is not a particularly tall person.

All in all it was a good morning. I'm glad the Senators provided me this opportunity to talk to people about what matters to them. Oh, and to shake Senator Ernst's hand, too.

No, no, no, no, no, no, yes.

This semester in DC has been a wonderful adventure so far. We're doing the Urban Living thing, seeing historical sights, visiting museums, attending free lectures and concerts, and generally having a great time.

But it's not exactly what I had planned.

I was actually hoping to find some kind of employment while here. Not full-time, certainly, but SOMETHING.  I wanted to be working, at least a little!

Many of my friends didn't understand this. "You can just go to museums and all those free things," they told me. And yes, I'm doing that!

We visited the Postal Museum today.

But I don't just want to be a tourist here in DC. I yearn to be working, connecting with people, making a difference in the world with the talents that I have (and determination when talent isn't quite enough!)

So I applied for all kinds of work: non-traditional internships, part-time writing jobs, temporary communications positions. At one point, I was talking with a university writing center director about working part time as a consultant at her writing center. But that fell through.

I applied for jobs as an online tutor, a restaurant hostess, an office receptionist. I reached out to local contacts and sent letters to "friends of friends" who might be able to hire me. Didn't get anything.

Even the volunteer opportunities didn't work out: most of the Cool Places looking for volunteers (Smithsonian, Library of Congress, Botanical Garden) want volunteers to make a one-year commitment. I contacted the DC school district about volunteering--through the DC volunteer clearinghouse website (that's how you do it here)--but I never heard back.

But then finally: I got a Yes!

d365, an ecumenical devotional website, finally got back to me about an inquiry I'd sent about writing for them. Yes, they'd like me to write a week's worth of devotionals if I'm still interested . . . Yes, I am!

I wrote back immediately, and look forward to getting my assignment.

Just having someone recognize that I have something to contribute gives me a boost! It's one thing to know that for yourself, and another thing for someone to be willing to pay you to do what you do well!

A Tale of Two Libraries

I'm an academic in DC, so of course, people want to know if I've been to the Library of Congress.

The Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress, photo swiped from Slate.com

Actually, I have. In fact, I'm a card-carrying Reader.

If you've been to DC, you may know that you can visit the beautiful Library of Congress for free. You can see the Gutenberg Bible, Thomas Jefferson's library, the awesome sculptures and artwork. But you can't get into the elegant domed reading room without a card.

Here's the news, though: anyone over 18 can get a reader's card--you just fill out a form, present your driver's license, and they make a card for you.

It's pretty nice being within just a few blocks of the largest library in the cosmos. Yes, it's the one that was featured in National Treasure.

Nicholas Cage looking super-scholarly at one of the desks in the Main Reading Room.

The L of C doesn't work like most libraries. Because its collection is so huge, it has closed stacks, which means you need to request the material you want, and someone goes to get it for you. You can't go looking for it.

I did this the other day. I needed a book that would help me with my research on the Dieman-Bennett Dance Studio. First I found the record for the book on their online catalog--which I accessed from our apartment a few blocks away.

Then I requested it, also online, asking for it to be brought from the closed stacks to the Main Reading Room. They sent me an email when the book was there.

That's the easy part. Then you need to run the gauntlet of getting INTO the reading room. First there's the security check at the front door--for everyone, researchers and tourists alike. It's just like at the airport except you can leave your shoes on: put your bags and keys on the conveyor belt through the x-ray machine. Walk through the metal detector. Hope you don't set it off.

Once through, researchers need to check coats and bags at the cloak room. You can't bring them into the reading room. (I have a clear plastic bag for my wallet, pens, and notebook.)

Now the real test: you have to figure out (or remember) how to get across and upstairs into the Reading Room! It's not marked on the "You Are Here" signs and maps spread about the building because tourists aren't allowed.

I've been to the Reading Room three times and each time I've had to ask someone "which way to the Reading Room?" The L of C is a huge building (3 buildings, actually) with winding hallways, staircases, underground tunnels, elevators, and lots of doors that don't lead to the Reading Room, and don't ask me how I know that. . .

Finally, once you find the entrance, you have to sign in and show your Reader's Card to a bored-looking security guard.  Whew!

I knew that the book I'd requested was in the Reading Room, waiting for me at the central desk. I just showed my card again to pick it up--right by the red arrow here . . .

I didn't take this photo; you can't take photos in there. It's not a tourist spot, it's a place to do research and read so cut it out with the selfies,

and I went to sit and read it under that amazing dome.

Photo from the L of C website itself!

I had to finish my reading there; the L of C isn't a lending library, so no books go home.

Besides a HUGE collection of books, excellent digital databases, and a beautiful space, the L of C also has my favorite library element: friendly and helpful reference librarians! I've gotten help from them already (locating the most recent Writer's Market and Writer's Guidelines in the Reference Room).

Now the Library of Congress may be spectacular and amazing and beautiful. But the library I visit more often--much more often!--is the tiny Northeast Neighborhood Library, just a few blocks from my house--in the opposite direction of the L of C. I'm probably there 3-4 times a week, picking up books and printing things out, saying "hi" to Coe College Writing Center Alumna Heather Scott and the other reference librarians.

In fact, the Northeast Neighborhood Library was the first place in DC I went after I arrived--to get my library card, of course!

This little branch library is part of the large DC Public Library system, and it shares resources, including books and digital resources, with the whole system. The book collection at the Northeast Neighborhood library is small, but because there are 27 branches, between them, they have just about any book I could want!

Just like the CRPL, I can use the online catalog to find and request books, which can be held for pick-up at any branch--so that's kind of similar to the L of C. As you may know, I am a reading addict, so this is pretty handy for me. I've already enjoyed reading a couple of books from the DCPL, including Behold the Dreamers, which is this year's Linn Area Reads book. I recommend it, Linn County friends!

Another reason the DC Public Library is awesome: I can attend events sponsored by different branches--other Neighborhood libraries. I knit and listen to audio books with the Southeast Neighborhood Library's Knit Lit group on Tuesday evenings. And I took an Excel class at the downtown Library Express branch. Oh, and the NE Neighborhood library is celebrating its 86th birthday on Sunday--with cake and a celebration!

I love the Library of Congress. And I'm enjoying all it has to offer, from research opportunities to art exhibits to free lectures and music to an awesome gift shop. But for those of you far from the L of C and wishing you could visit it: might I recommend a visit to your own public library? You'll find a whole world of resources just waiting to be used.

Every day is leg day in DC

This is my phone's activity log from yesterday. 

(Did you know that iPhones have this step-counting feature? I was delighted when I discovered it! I try not to think about how it figures out how many miles I've gone--does it know how big my "steps" are? Or is it tracking me via GPS?)

Just as comparison, here's random activity log from a day when we were living in Cedar Rapids.

So why the big disparity? Yesterday, I walked 4.4 miles, or 10,479 steps, but on a similar Thursday in October, I walked just 1.2 miles or 2,861 steps. I didn't "go on a walk" yesterday. I wasn't sick on October 26. I didn't suddenly become more righteous in terms of trying to get in my 10,000 steps.

The difference is DC itself--and the way living in an urban area shapes one's life. Rather than driving everywhere, you just walk.

As I already reported in this blog, I drove to DC, so we do have a car. But it spends most of its days here parallel-parked on a street near our apartment. I use it maybe twice a week: to go grocery shopping, and maybe one other time--to get places that are just easier to access by car. Other than that, we walk. Or take public transit.

Walking here is great. Our neighborhood has beautiful tree-lined streets with pretty brick row houses and scattered parks that make walking very pleasant. 

Plus, this is the south! It hasn't been very cold.

Not only that, so many places are just easy to walk to: the Northeast branch of the DC Public Library is just .4 miles away. I probably go there 3-4 times a week: to pick up books, use the printer, or just sit and read. 

The outside and inside of my favorite local library, the NE Branch of DC Public Library.

The Library of Congress is also .4 miles away, for more obscure research materials, and the Folger Shakespeare Library, with its exhibits, theatre, and gift shop, is .2 miles away. Our pharmacy, Grubb Pharmacy, is a mere 600 feet away!

A church that we've attended, Capitol Hill United Methodist Church, which has wonderful worship services, a welcoming congregation, and plenty of outreach (including daily breakfasts for "housed and  unhoused neighbors") and programming is just a short walk away: .4 miles, and there are a half-dozen other churches less than half a mile away (we've visited several!)

So just doing ordinary things--running errands, going to programs, going to the library--you can rack up lots of steps!

And let's say that I decide to take public transit someplace here in DC. Bruce has written about the many DC public transit options on his blog if you're interested in seeing photos of buses, the Metro, and a streetcar, and reading his analysis.  In brief, public transit here is easy and not expensive. I use it frequently. But even if I, say, take a bus downtown for a free concert (I've done that a couple times), or if I had a job I took transit to, I still have to walk .2 miles to the bus stop, then maybe another .2 to the concert at the other end. If I take the Metro (the subway), the station is .5 miles away. So even when taking public transit, I'll still walk 1-2 miles (roundtrip) to get there.

I guess the upshot is that living in a city--which seems like it might be less healthy because of congestion, pollution, no backyards, etc.--is actually better for me in terms of keeping me active and moving. I'm not the only one who's noticed this--there have been actual scientific studies that find the same thing.  (This article by AARP The Magazine has plenty of evidence that using alternatives to cars is not just healthy for people, but also for the economy, the environment and for cities in general, too.)

Every so often I wonder whether I'll continue to walk as much when I get back to Cedar Rapids. But even though we chose our house because it's relatively close to downtown and to Coe, the walks aren't quite as nice--or as short--as they are here. Coe is a little over a mile from our house, 

so not too far, but I usually drive when the weather isn't nice enough to bike. The Cedar Rapids Public Library is 1.9 miles away from our home (a nice bike ride, but a bit of a time-consuming walk) and the pharmacy we use is 1.5 miles away--and has some unpleasant stretches past parking lots and highway entrances. 

Probably I should just enjoy my life in this walkable city now! And maybe some of my new habits will carry over.