I wrote the following for the ad book for St. Angela School's Oct. 25, 2009 fundraiser:
St. Angela parish has been defunct for a few years. The church at Potomac and Massasoit has been shuttered since May 2005. Statues, stained-glass panes and many of the elaborate marble, silver and gold furnishings from the stunning 1952 church now grace a suburban church, Our Lady of Ransom, in Niles. The Catholics are largely long gone from Chicago's West Side.
Still, though, there is a school, a community centered on its students thrives there 89 years after SAS opened.
The St. Angela parish community that I grew up in from the early 1960s till the early 1980s was tight knit.
My father had grown up in the parish, from the late 1920s till the late 1940s, having been born there a few years after SA's 1916 founding.
By 1952, eight years before my birth, Catholics in Chicago, a huge part of the immigrant haven's population, had created parish communities throughout the city and into the suburbs, and new churches continued to be built, though none so magnificent as St. Angela's.
St. Angela parish itself reached into suburban Oak Park, as parish boundaries followed their own lines, not those containing governmental jurisdictions or secular neighborhoods.
When I was a kid, whenever anyone asked me what part of Chicago I hailed from, I said, "St. Angela's," not "North Austin," the secular name for the area surrounding my home, which was a brick two-flat on the 1800 block of north Mason Avenue.
Parishes and local parks were pillars of childhood in Chicago (and still are in some communities in the area).
Little Galewood Park, near Bloomingdale and Central avenues, where me and many of my nine siblings hung out, drew kids from well beyond the neighborhood.
At St. Angela, bonds were strengthened by the SAS sports program that my father, John "Jack" Jordan, built up and led as volunteer athletic director from the 1960s into the 1980s.
But, by the time my family finally said goodbye to St. Angela, moving to the Far Northwest Side in the mid-1980s, "white flight" had left few parishioners remaining.
The rolls at St. Angela's school, like those at its church, were shrinking as many Catholics moved out.
When Sister Mary Finnegan took the helm at St. Angela elementary in 1983, its enrollment had shrunk to about 500 students from a peak – with eight grades and no preschool or kindergarten – a decade or so earlier of around 1,200.
My 1974 Class had 116 graduates. The eighth-graders were divided into three home rooms. Our teachers, at the "new-school" wing, were Mr. Brand, Miss Russ and Mr. Rolla.
When I attended, because the big building was bursting at the seams, SAS had to reject some kids, new arrivals to the parish, whose parents resorted to sending them to the local public school.
Despite its changing fortunes, SAS has endured, and Sister Finnegan is still the principal.
Today, SAS's enrollment, from 3-year-old preschoolers to young-teenage eighth-graders, stands at about 250.
In recent years, more than one friend of mine from elsewhere in the United States has expressed amazement at the number of old childhood classmates from Chicago Catholic parishes who stay in touch, keeping each other connected to the place they went to grade school.
And it's very much a Class-Of kind of thing. Not that we exclude people from other class levels from our group of friends, but that special bond of being a classmate remains. We had the same teachers in the same grades at the same time. We have mutual, grade-exclusive memories.
Just like some people remain close to a few classmates from high school and college, many Catholic Chicagoans instead – or also, and often more so – retain friendships from their parish grammar school.
In "Surviving the Death of a Sibling" – a 2003 book that my sister-in-law Maureen Jordan sent me six weeks after the accidental August 1, 2009, death of her husband, my 45-year-old younger brother – author T. J. Wray says your sibling is unique in knowing you from childhood to old age. While I get her point that no one knows you like a brother or sister – and, indeed, Marty was so very near and dear to me – I think Wray is not entirely accurate, especially when I consider my – unrelated – St. Angela classmates.
Sure, there were divisions among SAS classmates, cliques that, kids being kids, formed, sometimes at the cruel exclusion of others. But it seems that the lines tend to fade away over time. And, though we may not see each other for many years, we retain a special mutual remembrance. We are still classmates, and the school's continued existence means lifelong friendships can continue to form among students at St. Angela.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Passion for 2nd Amendment not needed
Yes, I do understand and respect – but reject as founded on needless worries – the argument that citizens need to be armed in case they need to protect themselves from thugs or from the government.
And, despite my sometime irreverence, I do appreciate the passionate belief, which many have, in gun rights and in the 2nd Amendment.
But some seem to believe that the constitution is a sacred document. I don't.
… Not that a gun in my hands wouldn't make me dangerous to myself and innocent bystanders, anyway, but for the sake of argument let's pretend that I'm fully physically coordinated….
And not that I'm brave – but, I am willing to risk requiring myself (hypothetically able-bodied) and others to be unarmed, because I believe that we have enough political rights that we would remain free and be safer if we enacted two measures that I concede are unlikely even to be considered any time soon: a repeal of the 2nd Amendment and a national handgun ban….
I'm more afraid of crazy citizens with guns than I am of American cops, soldiers and politicians.
Many would argue that guns need to be legally available to ward off potential dictators and so that the good folks could protect themselves from the bad ones who would and do carry guns legally or not. I believe that the proliferation of guns is the more dangerous threat, and that we should have a strict national handgun ban on possession, sale and manufacture.
I believe that enough enforcement could control handguns.
And I don't think it remotely probable that any group of righteous (or riotous) armed people could successfully oppose the police or the overwhelmingly mighty U.S. military (anyone who tried could create a bloody mess), and I'd be justifiably very afraid if it could.
Basically, I believe the power of Americans comes from ballots, not bullets.
And, despite my sometime irreverence, I do appreciate the passionate belief, which many have, in gun rights and in the 2nd Amendment.
But some seem to believe that the constitution is a sacred document. I don't.
… Not that a gun in my hands wouldn't make me dangerous to myself and innocent bystanders, anyway, but for the sake of argument let's pretend that I'm fully physically coordinated….
And not that I'm brave – but, I am willing to risk requiring myself (hypothetically able-bodied) and others to be unarmed, because I believe that we have enough political rights that we would remain free and be safer if we enacted two measures that I concede are unlikely even to be considered any time soon: a repeal of the 2nd Amendment and a national handgun ban….
I'm more afraid of crazy citizens with guns than I am of American cops, soldiers and politicians.
Many would argue that guns need to be legally available to ward off potential dictators and so that the good folks could protect themselves from the bad ones who would and do carry guns legally or not. I believe that the proliferation of guns is the more dangerous threat, and that we should have a strict national handgun ban on possession, sale and manufacture.
I believe that enough enforcement could control handguns.
And I don't think it remotely probable that any group of righteous (or riotous) armed people could successfully oppose the police or the overwhelmingly mighty U.S. military (anyone who tried could create a bloody mess), and I'd be justifiably very afraid if it could.
Basically, I believe the power of Americans comes from ballots, not bullets.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
The 2nd Amendment should be repealed
Yes, Right 2 is confusingly worded, but, much more importantly, we Americans simply don’t need it and shouldn’t have it.
We have many much more relevant and important rights than the crazily outdated right to form militias, or, if you will, to pistol pack: Freedom to eat French fries. Freedom from slavery. Freedom of speech. Freedom to cry like a baby. Freedom to live life largely as we want. Freedom to protest against the government. Freedom to call the president a pig fucker. Freedom to be a complete asshole. Separation of church and state. Freedom of religion. Freedom from religion. Freedom to be out. Fair housing. Freedom to fair elections. Freedom to vote, or not. Freedom to have our vote even matter sometimes. Freedom to call a lawyer or somebody. The right to a fair trial. Freedom to be represented by a very expensive shark, a lowly zero-cost public defender or any lawyer in between that we can almost afford. Freedom to confront our accusers. Freedom not to incriminate ourselves. Freedom to sue the pants off those who have negligently hurt us. Freedom to go on worker’s comp, unemployment, Food Stamps, welfare, Medicare. Freedom to approve of universal, socialized, government-run health care. Freedom to buy way more than we can afford on credit at 13.9 APR. Freedom to accumulate wealth greedily way beyond any family or personal need. Freedom to give absolutely nothing to charity. Freedom to be a wingnut on either side of the aisle. Freedom to rant. Freedom to think. Freedom to drink. Freedom to wear pink. Freedom to stink (within reason).
We have many much more relevant and important rights than the crazily outdated right to form militias, or, if you will, to pistol pack: Freedom to eat French fries. Freedom from slavery. Freedom of speech. Freedom to cry like a baby. Freedom to live life largely as we want. Freedom to protest against the government. Freedom to call the president a pig fucker. Freedom to be a complete asshole. Separation of church and state. Freedom of religion. Freedom from religion. Freedom to be out. Fair housing. Freedom to fair elections. Freedom to vote, or not. Freedom to have our vote even matter sometimes. Freedom to call a lawyer or somebody. The right to a fair trial. Freedom to be represented by a very expensive shark, a lowly zero-cost public defender or any lawyer in between that we can almost afford. Freedom to confront our accusers. Freedom not to incriminate ourselves. Freedom to sue the pants off those who have negligently hurt us. Freedom to go on worker’s comp, unemployment, Food Stamps, welfare, Medicare. Freedom to approve of universal, socialized, government-run health care. Freedom to buy way more than we can afford on credit at 13.9 APR. Freedom to accumulate wealth greedily way beyond any family or personal need. Freedom to give absolutely nothing to charity. Freedom to be a wingnut on either side of the aisle. Freedom to rant. Freedom to think. Freedom to drink. Freedom to wear pink. Freedom to stink (within reason).
Monday, June 22, 2009
Announcement
Some people – hopefully not you – might stop reading this at the end of this paragraph. If you're offended, I'm sorry, but honesty overrides other concerns, as, nervously, I announce my gayness.
You might think my sexuality is a private matter, but I think that, because it's an elemental part of me, it needs to be out there, which it largely already is. (I told my then-wife, my mother, siblings and others close to me almost five years ago and have told others close to me since.)
Many people would probably assume from my actions – long giving the impression (often successfully) that I'm straight (heterosexual like "normal" people), dating only women, fathering a child, marrying her mother, etc. – that I am indeed straight. (My divorce, finalized in December of 2006, was a catalyst in forcing me out.)
When someone is not out, society largely assumes he's straight. I don't want to perpetuate the falsehood.
Many childhood friends and others saw my gayness, though virtually no one even hinted it to me then, and only a few old friends (Dean, Peter, Noreen) – many years into my adulthood – told me the truth before 2004, which is when I first came out, to most of those closest to me. But many, including family members, had thought I was straight.
I repressed my gayness; I still do, out of habit or societal pressure or … whatever.
I'm still not completely sure of my personality (I think I might be bisexual, which is something I want to discuss with my therapist), but I know that it contains gay and effeminate traits and that I repressed those traits.
In my youth, I was confused, frightened and disgusted about my sexuality and seemingly unable to acknowledge it. In my young adulthood, I convinced – or deluded – myself that I could choose to be straight. In the 1980s, I began to justify to myself my rejection of my gayness as valid given my fear of AIDS.
Now, as the first decade of the new millennium draws to a close and I draw near to age 50, it seems that I have cemented my personality to fit more comfortably – more straightly – into society. Maybe – probably? – slowly I can melt the cement.
It seems some people – both heterosexuals and homosexuals – have scorned me because they saw my hiding behavior as unforgivable dishonesty. Are "scorn" and "unforgivable" too strong? Perhaps. Hopefully.
A few old friends seem homophobic.
Some straight people seem to shun me simply because I'm gay.
For virtually everyone, especially friends, I wish to present a fully honest face.
As society continues to become much more open about sexuality, I want to follow that positive trend, to be more alive, human, myself.
Thank you for reading all 460 words of this.
You might think my sexuality is a private matter, but I think that, because it's an elemental part of me, it needs to be out there, which it largely already is. (I told my then-wife, my mother, siblings and others close to me almost five years ago and have told others close to me since.)
Many people would probably assume from my actions – long giving the impression (often successfully) that I'm straight (heterosexual like "normal" people), dating only women, fathering a child, marrying her mother, etc. – that I am indeed straight. (My divorce, finalized in December of 2006, was a catalyst in forcing me out.)
When someone is not out, society largely assumes he's straight. I don't want to perpetuate the falsehood.
Many childhood friends and others saw my gayness, though virtually no one even hinted it to me then, and only a few old friends (Dean, Peter, Noreen) – many years into my adulthood – told me the truth before 2004, which is when I first came out, to most of those closest to me. But many, including family members, had thought I was straight.
I repressed my gayness; I still do, out of habit or societal pressure or … whatever.
I'm still not completely sure of my personality (I think I might be bisexual, which is something I want to discuss with my therapist), but I know that it contains gay and effeminate traits and that I repressed those traits.
In my youth, I was confused, frightened and disgusted about my sexuality and seemingly unable to acknowledge it. In my young adulthood, I convinced – or deluded – myself that I could choose to be straight. In the 1980s, I began to justify to myself my rejection of my gayness as valid given my fear of AIDS.
Now, as the first decade of the new millennium draws to a close and I draw near to age 50, it seems that I have cemented my personality to fit more comfortably – more straightly – into society. Maybe – probably? – slowly I can melt the cement.
It seems some people – both heterosexuals and homosexuals – have scorned me because they saw my hiding behavior as unforgivable dishonesty. Are "scorn" and "unforgivable" too strong? Perhaps. Hopefully.
A few old friends seem homophobic.
Some straight people seem to shun me simply because I'm gay.
For virtually everyone, especially friends, I wish to present a fully honest face.
As society continues to become much more open about sexuality, I want to follow that positive trend, to be more alive, human, myself.
Thank you for reading all 460 words of this.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Encyclopedia of Chicago
Probably the most comprehensive source on Chicago history, the Encyclopedia of Chicago was created by the Chicago History Museum, the Newberry Library and Northwestern University.
To go to the online version, click on the encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org link.
To go to the online version, click on the encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org link.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
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