Left my parents’ house, on the train from Berlin, CT to New York. I splurged an extra $20 for business class, which I never do, and you know, it’s a nice indulgence.
(Daddy, next time you take the train to D.C. to visit Sharms, I think you should consider business class.)
I’m planning to work for the next 2.5 hours, and the seats are a little comfier, I can pull my laptop table to just the right spot for the length of my arms, the space is a little airier, coffee is complimentary; it’s very comfortable all around, and while this train is pretty empty, it was still nice to have an assigned seat; sometimes on Amtrak, it can be a little stressful finding a spot. Despite which, I do love the train. If I had a good excuse, I’d be taking Amtrak ALL THE TIME.
I was only at my parents’ for a day, but it was still worth coming. Spent some hours on tedious eldercare paperwork, mostly collecting forms and making photocopies and putting it all in what is becoming a giant binder. Bit by bit.
We went and visited my mother in the care facility; her illness has progressed to the point where I’m not sure she recognized me. She seems healthy enough in body, but her mind is mostly elsewhere these days, I think. Many people have wonderful memories of Cintha, so I hope they find comfort in those.
Some of the time was just talking with my dad. He’s full of stories, and one part that fascinates me is how all of them start with a statement of relationality. “Let me tell you about this woman, now she’s so-and-so’s sister, do you remember her? The one who married the other one, and they settled in this country and had three children, the eldest is an engineer now….” All of that and more before you get to the actual story.
It seems very village-like, that mode. A way of affirming and reinforcing kin and kith bonds, telling you that you should care about this person because this is how they are related to you. Which is lovely in some ways; it’s good that there are people who keep track of these connections, who strengthen already existing bonds between people. This modern life tends to disconnect us, which is bad for humans generally.
But there’s a part of me that wonders whether reinforcement of relationality is also damaging, wonders whether it leads inevitably to an ‘us’ versus ‘them’ mindset. Just yesterday, I shared a post about a Sri Lankan woman who’s being trained by NASA for their next Mars simulation mission, and I love that, I’m so proud of her (congrats, Dr. Piyumi Wijesekera!), it definitely matters that one of our own is doing something so cool. It feels relatively harmless to celebrate her? I write stories about Sri Lankans in space! They could be her descendants! And yet.
If strengthening community bonds leads to a situation where you exert yourself more for the person you’re related to, to the detriment of those whom you feel like you have no connection to, isn’t that ethically a problem?
For example, today is the deadline to register for public school in Oak Park. There’s been a discussion going in one of the local political groups (Polite Politics Oak Park) of the new requirement that homeowners have to upload their residency documents every year.
Previously, only renters needed to, and that extra paperwork was seen as an additional burden on renters (who tend to be less wealthy, of course, but also disproportionately people of color, primarily Black and hispanic, in our area). So it’s fairer to just make everyone do it, yes? Yes. (I should check with Kevin and make sure he remembered.)
BUT, there’s another option that is equally fair — don’t make anyone upload residency documents every year. Just trust that people will mostly go to the public school for their area, and if some kids slip in ‘across the border’ and we pay to educate them too, accept that as the cost of a civilized society.
(In Illinois, we do that for healthcare, at least — Illinois All Kids means that every single child in Illinois has healthcare coverage, regardless of immigration status or health condition. Proud of my state.)
There tends to be a sliding scale argument that kicks in here — oh, if we let ten kids get away with this, word will get out, and then we’ll have a hundred next year, and a thousand the year after that, and then we’ll be overrun (with Black and brown folks), and if you don’t think there’s an element of racism embedded in that argument, maybe read through it again.
But also, I think the sliding scale is a fallacy — ten kids really won’t lead to a thousand. Certainly not ten thousand. And if they did lead to a thousand — well, OPRF is currently around 3400, which is somewhere close to a thousand less than its highest student population. I actually think Oak Park could cope, and giving those kids access to the kind of educational opportunities that my kids have? That sounds just fine to me.
I know — when you elected me to school board, y’all didn’t know I was a tear-down-the-borders kind of girl. Don’t worry; I’m just one voice out of seven, and I’m pretty sure I’m the lone voice in the wilderness on this one, so we won’t be changing policy during my tenure.
But I do wonder how much time and stress it costs all of us, to do the means-testing, to find and upload those documents (at least it’s electronic now, a not small blessing — we don’t have to run the paperwork down to the office and wait in line). And I wonder how much money the districts spend on residency enforcement (I could get at least a rough accounting of those numbers, and I would, if people were interested — that’s very much in the school board purview kind of thing.)
If we took all that time and energy and money that went to enforcement, and put it towards teaching instead… Well, does it really matter whether they’re ‘our’ kids or not?
Aren’t all kids our kids, in the end?
I’m on my way to a children’s literature conference, one specifically for people of color. These issues are on my mind. I probably won’t write a picture book about residency requirements for public school, but you never know…
More on the conference once I’m there — for once, I’m not teaching or panelling. For this one, I’m here to learn. I hope to take copious notes. If you’re in New York, it’s not too late to register! (https://www.kwelijournal.org)
Two last delicious meals from my parents’ place — Kanagalingam Mary (who is raising five kids, working at the family business, AND studying nursing) managed to find time to send over some beef and potato curry; it’s not the same as Amma’s, which was my favorite, but it was still delicious. Sometimes I make one that comes out like Amma’s, but it’s maybe one time in ten? When the stars align and the magic happens. Served here with rice and kattharikai (eggplant curry) — hers is more in Amma’s style, which I admit, I never liked as a kid. But I’ve grown to like eggplant as an adult — here’s my recipe: https://serendibkitchen.com/…/eggplant-curry…/
Breakfast this morning was a cup of tea and one of Marina Aunty’s mutton rolls, which are ALWAYS delicious. I have another one stuffed in my bag, and will soon collect a cup of coffee from the cafe car and enjoy it, while I do final FINAL edits on the Russ essay.
This is reinforcing of bonds too. Thanking people for their care of you, eating the food of your homeland. I do it this kind of work all the time, just like my father. Maybe it’s just a balancing act — reinforce the bonds that keep communities strong, but balance that with the wider view, the one that says all communities are worth caring for.
Train thoughts.
Oh, and yes, my hair is a dark purple-blue now. It was time for a change. My necklace says Amirthi (my middle name, my Sri Lankan name) in Tamil. My dad says I spelled it right — whew!
