Category: reflections

TIME Magazine: What Is a Democratic Socialist?

Interestingly, as it often happens when I am in Finland, I was thinking along the lines of this Time Magazine article. Each time I am here, I see and experience the outcome of a social system very different from the one we have in the US. I like what I experience, even though I see the cost of all of the things I like.

This article, however, emphasizes that Democratic Socialism is something different.

Full text below.

Continue reading “TIME Magazine: What Is a Democratic Socialist?” →

My Mom And Her Memories

It’s not even that my mom forgets things that happened many years ago, but the fact that she does not have real memories at all, but rather memories of the memories. She often combines several past events in one, or forgets the seqence of event entirely, like for example not remembering whether my children were born in the US or not. A couple of months ago she said that “I never told her anything about my first husband,” and would I tell her something about him, like what was his name, and who he was, and when we got married, and where he is now. I was more than shocked (I believe I blogged about it), but wrote everything down for her. For some reason, she seemed unhappy with what I wrote.

About two weeks ago, when she wanted to talk with me about her diaries, she mentioned that she found one of them, and she didn’t remember that she wrote it. I recognized the notebook when I saw it: that was the one I didn’t ever want to see again. She opened it and ask whether I remember how I yelled at her, and read one paragraph aloud. I told her that I indeed remembered. I didn’t ask here whether she remembered why did I yell at her, because she clearly didn’t. Then she said that she would type all the texts from this notebook on her computer (which was not a bad idea at all; she already did it with some of her diaries). And then she said that she was not going to change anything in her words, although now she thinks that she was wrong regarding “what she wrote about me” because “I am the best daughter ever.” To be honest, that was a tryly remarkable statement, because I would never imagine that she could take her words back, so I really wanted to aknowledge it.

Unfortunately, immediately after she said this, she added “as I mentioned, you never told me anything about your first husband, so I don’t know… it’s not about your Boris, is it?” I told her that it was indeed “about my Boris,” but she didn’t believe me. Now, adding two and two, I am beginning to think that she was reading her diaries, and could not imagine that she wrote all these horrible things about Boris and decidede I was married to someone else. Igor’s dad, apparently, had completely disappeared from her memories.

Shelter/Homelessness/Other Things That Are Wrong

This will be a long one, and I will start with my recent visit to the ODS.

When I was there last time, someone who shopped for dinner ingredients bought a jar of spread instead of real butter, and the moment I learned about it, I realized that Chicken Alfredo wouldn’t turn out as it should. Another, and more serious thing, was that when I came, all the residents were gone, since it was one of the first nice days! I do not think that was planned; it’s just that J., who had been my kitchen helper for many months, was gone, and she was the one who had asked for Chicken Alfredo. I knew that if she were still around, she would’ve stayed to wait for me, probably with a couple of her friends.

I left the dinner for the staff (they said that when the kids are back, they’ll eat everything), and, for the hundredth time, thought about whether it is worth coming so irregularly. Then N., a staff member who really cares about me, texted me asking when I was coming next time.

This next time was last Tuesday. Several days earlier, I asked her if she would mind asking the residents what they wanted, but I already knew that she wanted my baked salmon, and I knew I would end up making it. I also promised I would bring a Finnish berry pie (I promised to bake it there in May, but since there was nobody and no butter, I didn’t.)

Then, on Tuesday morning, I fell off the bike and hurt my hand. There was absolutely no way for me to cancel, but I texted N. and told her I would need help cutting and peeling potatoes. When I arrived, another volunteer had organized two kids to peel potatoes and actually taught them how to do it right (it was day one of my injury, and I couldn’t even demonstrate the techniques). With that, it could be an amazing experience, because the kids actually figured that out, and three people ended up peeling enough potatoes (just a little bit less than I would do if I weren’t incapacitated). Unfortunately, it was almost for nothing, because there was not a single drop of milk in either the kitchen fridge or the big storage fridge, and I only found it out when all the potatoes were cooked and mashed. It didn’t even occur to me to check, because milk was on the shopping list, and because we made mashed potatoes so many times that it was not even a question that someone wouldn’t know. Besides, milk has always been in the kitchen fridge, just because it has to be.

One of the staff members said they would go to the nearest Jewel-Osco to get some milk. It would be great if I could figure out the absence of milk right away, but … unfortunately, that was not the only problem. Instead of our usual half-fish “never frozen” salmon from ALDI, there was a large bag of frozen portions. When I opened the bag, I saw that they were indeed frozen and that individual pieces were of very different quality. I tried my best to make something with what I had, but when we took the salmon out of the oven, it was absolutely not what we expected. Well, it was edible, and that’s all I can say. The trip to Jewel Osco took 30 minutes, and I was even able to reheat mashed potatoes with milk, but once again, there was spread instead of butter.

I didn’t even announce that the dinner was ready because the results were miserable. I left my berry pie for everyone to eat, and went home. N. texted me several times the next day asking about my hand, so I gave her the full report, but I also knew it was not just about my hand. I knew she felt bad about the mix-up and was afraid I wouldn’t come again. I could have said that the ODS staff should have paid more attention to the shopping list, and I probably could even feel hurt, if not for one thing.

The thing was, while N and I were texting that morning, she accidentally replied to me with something she meant for someone else, and because of that, I knew there were some problems at the ODS that day. When I arrived, I still could tell that “something was going on.” All the staff waved off my concerns, but I could tell that dinner was definitely not their top priority that day. And that day was not an exception.

The ODS staff solved bigger problems every day, with more and more uncertainties coming up every day. And in general, homelessness in Chicago rises at an alarming rate, with fewer people trying to solve it.

A couple of weeks ago, I saw a man hiding in our recycling bin (he made an effort to hide when he saw me approaching, and I pretended I didn’t see him). Afterward, however, I saw him, and it was visible that he had just gotten out of the dumpster by the way he was brushing himself. His shoes were bright red and very memorable, which is why I noticed him around Jarvis Square several times. Then, I saw him sleeping under the overpass on one of my early morning bike rides (once again, because I noticed these shoes sticking out of the black cover). That was one of those moments when you feel incredibly guilty for having any problems at all, or worrying about anything at all, while one of your neighbors has no place to sleep. I thought that the next time I saw him, I would ask if I could help him in any way (he was not asking passersby for change), but I stopped seeing him immediately after that.

There are more and more homeless people around. The encampments along the lake are growing. At the same time, I see many businesses taking measures to keep the homeless away. Not only businesses, for that matter. For example, the so-often-mentioned lack of public restrooms is also rooted in the same issues. Recently, I stepped into the Target on State, which used to be one of the guaranteed places with public restrooms. I saw they were doing major remodeling, and when I walked to the bathrooms, I noticed the access code panel had been freshly installed. And do not take me wrong, I understand that the number of homeless people using these bathrooms for pretty much anything was alarming, and I understand that Target must have heard numerous customers’ complaints. I understand why so many people want “all this mess” to be out of sight – out of mind, but the problem does not disappear because of all these measures. I saw people sleeping on Michigan Avenue. I saw people sleeping in the grass, not even in the tents, along the lakefront. It does not look pretty. But how it looks is not the root cause of the problem.

Pride Nails

As I already mentioned on Instagram, that’s the only time in the year when a grandma like me would get compliments from the hottest boys in town: I love your nails! The most handsome boys with the longest lashes you have ever seen :).

But here is more. What I love more than these compliments is how these boys hold each other’s hands tightly, walking up Michigan Avenue. When I see this stretched hand, and another hand catching it and holding, I want to cry. I want to take a picture of these holding hands.

And I think about the 16-year-old Vlad: Why do they look at us like this when we walk holding hands?! Why can’t we walk like others?!

I am glad they can. And I am glad that no Trump can do anything with it.

(a green drop is pistachio gelato, and I am not going to photoshop it)

***

Boris’s birthday was last Friday. Several years ago, he discovered that he and Helsinki share the same birthday, and since then, he refuses to be anywhere but Helsinki on that day. He had sent me several pictures, including those from the reception at City Hall. The Mayor’s office announced that the first 1,000 visitors will receive a piece of rhubarb pie and coffee. Boris was there at the reception start time, and he said that he hadn’t seen anybody left without it 🙂

But that’s not about the rhubarb pie. What I wanted to say is that I can’t even remotely express how thankful I am for everything Boris has done over these two and a half weeks. We had close to none one-on-one time, and almost until the very last day, all our one-on-one time was doing “one more thing” for the conference.

Boris made the room host kits (one of a million things which we had to do since we were running independently this year). He helped to finalize the badges format, and after multiple unsuccessful attempts, he set up printing at home, so that we could print the “last-minutes” and a whole bunch of blank badges. He came up with the volunteer sign-up design, for which I absolutely didn’t have extra mental cycles. Most importantly, he was just there for me. Listening. Hugging. Saying “we are on a roll” and “looks like it is happening.”

I am so fortunate that “we have it all.” So grateful that I never had to choose. So grateful that the most important person in my life knows that “work-life balance doesn’t exist.”

***

I am in the after-stage of the “post-conference syndrome”: I feel simultaneously that “nothing like this will ever happen again” and “who told you it was good?” I am afraid that people just do not have the heart to tell me that it was “not so good.” I hope that this shall pass 🙂

American Dream Documentary, And A Surprising Discovery

Since neither Igor nor I had an opportunity to participate in any of the May Day events, and I couldn’t even get out of the office to watch a march, I suggested watching one of the Labor Movement documentaries screening at the Siskel Center during the first days of May. We went to see the American Dream documentary produced by Barbara Kopple in 1990. It shouldn’t be a surprise that I didn’t know about the labor strike against Hormel Foods of 1986. My complete cluelessness added suspense because throughout the whole documentary, I didn’t know how it would end! Sometimes (often?) it’s important to learn not only about impressive victories, but also about great failures.

There was something else, quite unexpected, that caught my attention while I was watching this documentary: the way everyone talked. A couple of weeks ago, I saw an article reporting a recent study finding that people now use fewer words than they did twenty years ago, and this documentary was striking proof of that! As a frequent participant in political rallies, I know very well how even the best speakers talk these days! In this movie, the union leaders, the members, and everyone talked intelligently, used a lot of words, and spoke complicated sentences. Nobody was shouting slogans; instead, people reasoned, considered different aspects of the matter at hand, listened to others’ arguments, and offered counterarguments. And trust me, none of this was rehearsed! There were heated debates, and at one point, a debate turned into a physical fight, but still!

I was shocked! Where did all of this go?! How did we get there? And how can we return to normality?!

Watch trailer on Vimeo

About Career Change

A couple of weeks ago, I attended a virtual event called “Women & Visibility.” I believe the name is self-explanatory. A panel of successful female professionals shared their stories about the hurdles they had to overcome to be heard, not ignored, and recognized for their contributions.

Unfortunately, nothing new! We heard these stories many, many times! One of the side discussions, however, caught my attention. The panel host asked the participants whether each of them had a significant shift in their professional career, perhaps even a career switch, that launched their future success. And all the panelists agreed.

I started thinking about what was wrong with me :), because I am one of these incredibly dull people who do the same thing all the time. I have been doing databases and almost nothing except databases for more than 40 years, and that’s the field where I transitioned from “nobody” to “somebody.” And then I thought that, in some sense, I had a career switch, and more than once. For many years, I never thought about myself as “standing out.” I knew I was good at what I was doing; good enough to always have a job, even being a single mom with three small children. Still, I was in a realm of “I need a secure job with a stable paycheck.” Only much later, I transitioned to the mindset of “I want to take responsibility for my actions, I want to make my decisions, and be responsible for the consequences.” And much later, it became: “I want to help others, I want to build a community, I want to take part in making the world a better place.”

Maybe this still counts as a career change, even though I’ve been working with databases all my life?

The Two Prosecutors Novella

At first, I thought it would be difficult to find books by Georgiy Demidov, but it turned out that most of his works were published a while ago, have audio editions, and are available for free courtesy of the now-dissolved Memorial society. I could not find the Two Prosecutors right away because this work was included in a larger collection of stories, so I downloaded several of his books and started listening. Immediately, I realized that I had already read some of Demidov’s stories; it’s just that his name didn’t stick. Moreover, I remembered that I was not very impressed, and, looking at what I learned about him and his fundamental disagreement with Varlam Shalamov, I realized that I was in agreement with the latter and didn’t like the same aspects of Demidov’s works.

Still, I wanted to find and read Two Prosecutors, since the movie was so powerful and left such an impact on me. When I finally found it and listened, I was shocked and disappointed. The film was so much better! More precise, more expressive, more powerful.

Now I am wondering how Sergey Loznitsa managed to see such potential in this story, and now I admire his work even more!

Two Prosecutors: Sergei Loznitsa’s Movie

I didn’t plan to go to any movies this week, but once again, that one was impossible to skip, so I ended up making time.

The film is based on a novel by Georgiy Demidov and tells the story of a recent law school graduate who learns about torture in Stalin’s prisons, and, believing that this is a plot against the Soviet state, tries to bring the case to the General Prosecutor, only to be arrested for this attempt (more details here). I didn’t do any research on the film before watching it, so I didn’t know who Georgiy Demidov was, which is why I was a little bit puzzled about the “target audience.” The movie is impeccably produced, the cinematography is brilliant, and no matter how much you know about the topic, you can’t take your eyes away from the screen. The story itself, however, was one of the thousands I’ve heard, so I wondered what was a reason yet another movie on this well explored and recently unpopular subject was produced.

Since the name Georgiy Demidov didn’t ring a bell for me, I looked him up. What I learned about him explained a lot, and everything started to make sense. He was one of these writers, who started to write after he became a prisoner of the Stalin’s regime, similar to Varlam Shalamov (with whom they were friends for some time). Then I realized that the movie is a time capsule projecting the view on what happened 90 years ago not from our current perspective, but from the perspective of people who were there at that time.

It doesn’t look like it’s easy to find books by Georgiy Demidov, but I keep looking.

About “Leaving It For Later” And When Not

When somebody has a newborn baby, is working day and night to meet a deadline, or is in another challenging situation, their house might become a mess, or they can forget something important that they would never forget to do under other circumstances. This is all perfectly understandable.

What does it have to do with me? It’s not like I have always been a model of cleanliness, nor are my current standards of having things in order model ones. However, I have this thing where the sight of a mess is aesthetically displeasing to me, to the extent that most times I can’t do anything else when there are things on the floor or dirty dishes in the sink. I tidy things up right away just because it makes me feel better.

Still, the two weeks before I went to Helsinki were really exhausting. I felt like I was doing something all the time, and most of what I was doing was past due. And several times, I caught myself leaving a mess behind. For example, under normal circumstances, I would not leave the house with a pile of things on the floor or dishes not put away in the dishwasher, but I have had it several times that I had to leave immediately so that I am not late.

And each time I realized how quickly the entropy builds! You miss putting things away just twice, and now all of a sudden, you need an extra 30 minutes to get everything back to order.

It was a timely reminder for me why I am going out of my way to do all this small chores right away. Also, similar thinking appies to non-household chores. For example, when several months ago I lost one week worth of updates of my finanicial excel, I was furious, because just three days before I recorded almost two weeks of my Amazon transactions and a week worth of Visa transactions. I was very proud of myself when I was done, and it was all gone. Back then, it was a reminder to be sure I save my work in addiiton to the autosave mode, especialy after working offline, but also, I was questioning my habit of recording Amazon transactions once a week (I know why I do this, and there is a good reason, but still).

The reason I was thinking about it all the other day was that I ws in Helsinki, and wanted to spend as much time with Boris as I could when we are physically in the same location. However, I felt that it was important not to fall behind on recording my expenses, especially since I am using a diffterent CC when abroad. Same with several seemingly small things, like scheduling next A/C tune-up or filling in medical paperwork for the upcoming procedure.

I think I ended up balancing it right, still spending most time together but not feeling bad about coming home and needing to stay up later the first night I am back.