Portfolio

Sundries

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel:
I try to avoid any book that I see people reading on the train. It's not so much a stance against popular culture as it is an egomaniacal need to feel above whatever it is others are interested in (I should probably take this up with a therapist sometime). When Susanna Clark's massive tome made its US debut, dozens of readers lugged it around for months. I wrote it off as an extension of the Harry Potter phenomenon and thought nothing more of it. A pity, really, as now that I'm lugging the book around myself, I find it quite engaging. With lots of characters, side-stores and footnotes (that go on for pages) Clark has crafted a pleasant world to get lost in.

A Young Adult Novel that I Cannot Mention:
A dear friend just signed a two book deal with a respected publisher. I was honered to read the first draft and offered lots of suggestions and notes. Fortunately, the book really is good. There's nothing worse than having to tell a friend that their book, band, artwork, poetry, or similar expression is . . . really great! No, really, you're totally talented!

I've been in that position more than once. It's hard to maintain a pleasant countenance when, deep down, you feel rather nauseous about the whole thing. This experience was pleasantly different. I'll plug it when it's actually in book stores. For now, I've been sworn to secrecy.

Chris Thomas King
In college, I spent countless hours listening to old, scratchy recordings of blues and folk music. I'd scores of albums, many of them from the amazing Smithsonian Folkways catalog. Sadly, in the days before albums were easily ripped to hard drive, I sold the entirety of my collection to (a very happy) used record store. I needed the cash to support an incredibly stupid relationship. Chris Thomas King, with his extraordinary rendition of the classics, has reunited me with the music that once meant so much to me. I've more or less forgotten about the girl.

His Name is Alive
Fuzzy, geek-synth, electronica from Michigan. With sexy vocals. I downloaded Detrola the other day but have yet to listen to it extensively. I think it's good, but it requires a certain situation (and headphones) to be properly appreciated.

Information Aesthetics
I've been on the job interview circuit for the last couple of months. In countless conversations I'm asked "What sites to you read regularly? Where do you draw inspiration?" The answer, inevitably, is Information Aesthetics. It's the sort of site that looks great to prospective employers and has the benefit of actually being a source of great inspiration.

Journal

Wednesday, April 26

NUTHIN’
There’s a woman screaming on the train platform. She’s being comforted by a man that looks to be her husband. She is surrounded by CTA security guards and a uniformed police officer. Her infant son is gurgling happily in a stroller before her.

I stand as close to them as I’m able, listening carefully. What happened? I can’t quite hear…

So I walk over and ask.

“Nuthin’” the husband replies. Only he’s not her husband. I notice a shining badge clipped to his belt. He’s an undercover police officer.

And I am shamed.

Where do I get off asking a woman, the recent victim of some trauma, to relive the experience for a stranger? I tell myself that I’m genuinely concerned. I, after all, stand on this platform every day and have an interest in knowing how safe it is. But this is a con. My interest is almost purely morbid. An instinctive desire to see something terrible. I’m a driver gawking at a gruesome accident.

At least I’m no different from the vast majority of humanity in this shortcoming.

As I leave them, I notice another officer further down the platform. He carries a child’s car seat with him. I piece together a logical scenario:

A woman, juggling her bag, her son, a stroller and a car seat is waiting for the train. From behind, a stranger grabs the car seat - perhaps snatching it directly from her hands - and runs. Thinking her son in danger she screams. Police officers and CTA security rush toward her. The thief is apprehended almost immediately.

I feel terrible for all involved. I can’t imagine a greater terror than thinking your child might be harmed. Whoever attempted to steal the car seat - what of their child? Or perhaps the thief was a drug addict hoping to sell the seat for a few dollars…

It’s bad for everyone.

Tuesday, April 25

GATES GIVES, THE GRAFT TAKES
The Illinois Lottery, proposed in 1972, was supposed to benefit schools throughout the state. The unpleasantness of state sponsored gambling was offset by the rationalization that the profits, though perhaps ill-gotten, were going to a good cause.

Thirty years later, Leah Samuel, writing for the Chicago Reporter, found that the money wasn’t quite going where lottery hopefuls thought it was:

“The lottery does not materially help public schools because it does not generate additional funding,” said Ken Gotsch, chief financial officer of the Chicago Public Schools. “Instead, it has simply replaced state funding already in place.”

When the state sets its budgets for public education, lottery money is part of the calculation, even before the amount of lottery profits is known. The education budget includes state projections of lottery profits.

Which, roughly translated, means that every education dollar generated by the lottery amounts to a dollar that can be spent elsewhere. It’s a bucket with a hole in it. The net gain realized by students and teachers was, and is, 0.

With this in mind, I’m less than optimistic about the $21 million grant the Chicago Public Schools has received from Bill & Melinda Gates. While I’ve no doubt that much of the money will go toward the stated goals of enhancing curriculum and training teachers, I’m equally certain that another $21 million will be withdrawn from the budget and reallocated for something entirely unrelated.

As one who has worked for the CPS in both the classroom and the central office, I’ve an idea where those reallocated funds might go: high salaries for unqualified, patronage hired administrators and steep consulting fees to pay others who are qualified.

Of course, I’d like nothing more than to be proven wrong. Conclusively wrong. But I’m not optimistic about that happening either.