The End/The Future

While part of me feels a pull to "conclude" here, I don't know that I want to get into a long interpretation here about what I think these poems mean and what the different experiences and success rates at each site signify in my opinion. Throughout this process and particularly now that I am sharing the project, I have been acutely aware of my position as a white Yale student who is new to this city; I feel uncomfortable proposing a conclusion about this community and certainly do NOT intend to remedy any of its problems. Moreover, I would like this work to remain artistic, experimental, and process-oriented, rather than a procedure geared toward concrete sociological ends (although social science ideas did in part inspire the project). So, for the purposes of this blog, I'd like to let the work and the documentation speak for itself, to the degree that it says anything at all.

The other reason that I don't want to tie up the ends is that I'd like the process to continue. I've been brainstorming, with the help of others, ways to make these poems public in an unannounced but highly visible way that echoes the presentation of initial displays. I also feel that it would be unfortunate -- and for me, anticlimatic -- if the project ended with just a declaration of the works. I hope to find a way for people to respond to what they see or hear, be this response related to New Haven or something else entirely. Maybe there's a way for these poems to be launching pads for the creation of new poems or extensions of the existing ones. Maybe they will inspire the creation of something else entirely. I'll be thinking. If you want to think on this as well, I would welcome your ideas so gladly.

The Poems

Here is a compilation of the project's results at this point. I've left anything misspelled uncorrected.

I help the community
I have no money
I was human
I thank God that he is help me with my life

for they love

I dream for wisdom opportunity money we never fear
or question human help this community grow soon
first love you home do they trust cooperation between
community could difficult job search crime
did police protect him me safe
villain lock money trust some home
vivid as black white say over here
enter she smell these am ly thane was easy

Que no haiga mas guerra y no mas abusos y mejor ambiente

[I hope that there be no more war and no more abuse and a better environment]

Help community
Job opportunity

I dream for opportunity, wisdom, money
We never fear or question human help
This community will grow soon
First love your home
Do they trust cooperation between community
Could difficult job search increase crime?
Did police protect him?
Keep me safe from villain
Lock money, trust some in your home

She lock white trust

Dream for human love, trust, wisdom, never fear protect help the community and home of crime.

I love you
enter there
grow soon
say money help me
am safe
first, then
never dream
do we trust they
search home
could some black
police as question
him wisdom
easy smell
was home
between money
did this jod
these fear

for difficult or cooperation
easy smell
him wisdom
could some black police
search home
do we trust they
never dream
first than
am safe
help me
say money
grow soon
enter here
I love you
lock white trust

over villain
these fear
did this job
between money
was home

safe to

I know to always discover opportunity in

love cover take opportunity
beautiful life
protect heart

opportunity that make money

More money to coportion.

Why discover more ancient money?

Trust Black as white

I turn the heart black, But love is found beneath her trust

White day always beautiful
White covers, protects, beneath
Ask: why lock up the heart as money in a safe?
I take life
trust home
know love.

Ancient hero
mean(s) romance opportunity,
but loud crime
end(s) opportunity at community.

dream
could between
we safe say
she as
you lock
did
trust these
help home
cooperation me opportunity
some here
over easye
grow enter
money job
difficult do
wisdom
community soon
never
for

smell first home community crime
police fear black human the
love white villainy

you never love me

safe
dream grow than
money first smell

home
could these
trust
was for fear job did human
they black

question police
you dream than search for wisdom first grow trust
love never fear or trust soon these protect home
human
over
money

smell between difficult crime some say

community could do him easy
was
she
home
as
money
did
they lock
villain
me

help
black
community
here
white
opportunity
we
enter
safe
job
cooperation

love me
over money
protect these
grow some trust
easy than money

difficult
never
here
search
first

question, dream, secret, love, trust me!

Never Fear Protect Human Opportunity

Job, money, diffucult, home

we do safe over crime

trust or wisdom first could grow between community police

love
protect me money smell
these
she dream we grow trust crime

trust you

protect beneath that heart

protect we over these smell
enter they some wisdom
dreams grow money or
police trust villain you
love could question him
never help
safe community
fear was human than do
first trust
difficult job search

Never trust police
Say for

police explode like almost though there
job help
people who crime the community give crack
only to protect police but come home
judging my world too

Pretect crime now
Police come help

Crack open police crime
Help the community

Clogged drain
Clogged level line

The community have money but jobs wander off
and police judge black crime
people come home to crack safe
police only

did you say love me

was she difficult

soon they enter fear

we dream trust never

beneath her beautiful heart know that

always trust in romance

Give help to the world and judge police
help crime but explode people

Brazil

Laundromat, Farewell!

Yesterday, I went into the laundromat to collect my display. A young woman (girl?) I'd never seen before was behind the counter -- truly, there seems to be a new employee every time I walk in. I explained to her that the board was mine and that I was taking it. The notebook was gone. I asked when Maria would be in and she told me that Maria would be working all day tomorrow. The board had two lines of poetry:

Give help to the world and judge police
help crime but explode people


Today, I went in to the laundromat in search of Maria. Maria was dialing a phone number, with some relatives or co-workers around her. She saw me.

"You took it," she said.

"Yes, I know, but I just wanted to give you this to thank you for helping me. I really appreciate it." I gave her a box of Whitman's chocolates. I am not sure why I felt I had to do that, but I wanted to. She made this project work, really -- without the laundromat, I wouldn't have had much at all. And it's corny, but I felt kind of like I got to know her. I am not even sure how or if I'm imagining that.

"Oh, thank you," she said, still with the phone to her ear.

As I was leaving, she yelled something out to me.

"Sorry, what?" I said, turning around.

"Good luck," she replied.

Planned Parenthood Disaster

I was so excited to develop the pictures from Planned Parenthood, because I knew that they had been taken with care by Deanna over the course of several months. But when I got the pictures back, my heart sunk -- the disposable camera's shots only showed the poetry as shadowed and blurry, so that nothing could be read, either on the board or in the notebook.

But part of me is still OK with this. Maybe I'm trying to comfort myself, but I'm glad to at least have abundant proof that people used the board as a creative outlet. Still, it is so painful that the words are right there in the pictures I possess and yet I can't read them!

As for Koffee, the photos are even less clear but there are some funny ones that people took of themselves and of the shop:

Bus Stop Fiasco

Here are the before and after pictures of the short-lived bus stop experiment.

The first phot was taken at 2 p.m. on March 29. A nearby man eyed the poetry board suspiciously but made no move to engage with it. When I passed by at 8 p.m. the board was in the same place, without any poetry made. Two women stood waiting for their bus, ignoring the display.

The second photo was taken at 8 a.m. on March 30 -- the display had been stolen! Cut from its strings and carted away! I had specifically used flimsy string -- I wanted to see if the mere indication that this display was not to be taken would be respected. Clearly not. And sadly, I anticipated this.

But what-oh-what will the perpetrator do with this single bookshelf dotted with magnetic poetry? Are we to believe that he/she took the display because he/she saw something desirable in the object itself or is it merely the fact that there was an object for the taking? As in the cases of the missing notebooks, I imagine the latter. But I'm not sure I understand.

Planned Parenthood

I came into the health clinic to pack up the display. Again, the waiting room was pretty much empty. It was kind of sad to throw the poetry into a tote bag and be done. I asked the lady behind the desk to call down my contact - she was kind of annoyed that I hadn't gone to reception but obliged. Deanna gave me the camera, which is full - I can't wait to develop the pictures. The notebook has been stolen for a second time --!!

The poetry on the board is markedly hopeful:

beneath her beautiful heart know that

always trust in romance

Koffee

I awkwardly stepped over various people sitting on couches who were working on laptops and moved their coats to collect the display of the side table. Oh, and I knocked over an (empty) coffee cup while retreating. The whole thing was quite obtrusive.

I let an employee know that I was taking the display and he told me that he thought that the project was "really cool." There are only 6 pictures left on the camera I left, so I'm excited to develop them.

The board is pretty angst-ridden and romantic:

did you say love me

was she difficult

soon they enter fear

we dream trust never

The laundromat, March 14

Today, I went in and Maria was sitting alone, watching TV in the empty laundromat.

"Quiet for once!" I said.

"Yeah," she laughed.

I stopped on the way out to get some money from the ATM. As I waited with my back to Maria, the Spanish TV Channel blared and I thought about asking her where she was from. But I had five minutes to get to run crew and so I decided to do it next time.

The board says:

The community have money but jobs wander off
and police judge black crime
people come home to crack safe
police only

The laundromat, March 8

e


So I am posting this 8 days after I took the pictures and do not remember what happened when I went. But I CAN report with certainty that I could only make out one sentence on the board:

world have almost crime

The notebook saw a fair amount of activity:

Crime exploding and the police helps but who

Pretect [sic] crime now
Police come help

Crack open police crime
Help the community

Clogged drain
Clogged level line*

*I assume that this was a customer complaint unrelated to the poetry at hand. But perhaps it's a metaphor...

PPSNE

I finally saw the Planned Parenthood display at the health center. To get to it, I waited to speak to the woman behind a small glass window, who was mildly scolding the young couple in front of me for arriving late for their appointment. I stepped up with my new display and she told me to come into the waiting room, where very few people were waiting to be served.

The display was not in the place I had anticipated - rather than being out in the waiting area, it was up at the reception window, with a red typed sign that said "COMMUNITY ART PROJECT." I can't imagine that people just hang out up there much, but I feel hesitant to ask for a change of location. That's the thing about these spaces - you're just so grateful that someone will do this crazy thing for you that you don't want to push their hospitality further. So I just changed the display (I replaced it with the one that had been at the laundromat), and called upstairs to tell Deanna that I was leaving another disposable camera and the new display downstairs.

The display had also been turned around so that a vertical and a horizontal surface were available for the magnets. Here is what was on the board (the notebook, sadly, had been stolen, as previously reported):

police explode like almost though there
job help
people who crime the community give crack
only to protect police but come home
judging my world too

Koffee, March 2

I went in to see what was happening at Koffee. The display was gone from its original table and I panicked, thinking that it had been removed by the owners or stolen. It was, however, still there, but on a different table and facing the wall so that the description of the project was facing moved to a different table and I panicked, thinking it had been taken away. It was, however, facing the wall so that the description of the project was facing out rather than the words. I corrected that. Small victory.

The board says:

protect we over these smell
enter they some wisdom
dreams grow money or
police trust villain you
love could question him
never help
safe community
fear was human than do
first trust
difficult job search

The pad says:

Never trust police
Say for

The switch!

After my unsuccessful visit to Planned Parenthood, I swung by Neighborhood Music School to take the display out and transport it to its next-door neighbor institution, Koffee. I had talked to the owner of Koffee last week and she seemed interested in the project. I emailed her photos of the display and an invite to the blog but hadn't heard from her. As it was a rare day when I had access to vehicular transport, I decided to drop off the display anyway and let her reject it if she chose to.

Somehow, I wasn't surprised to see that the display was missing from its station in the NMS lobby. I hadn't been consistently in touch with Lisa there for quite some time -- she seemed slightly pessimistic with how the project was going, as well as too busy to keep tabs on it or take photos. The receptionist directed me to the display's new location, which was on the table in the hallway (the place I'd left it the first day I dropped it off, which was later changed in an effort to get more participation). The large sketchpad and markers, which I had left to there the last time I'd visited, were gone, and the receptionist had no information as to where. Another instance of stealing?! In this case, it made more sense. Those markers were brand new -- I'm sure some wily child stuffed them into his or her backpack and had a heyday with coloring books.

I took the display outside. For some reason, all the words had been transferred to the back side of the bookend.

The one line of poetry I could make out was:

protect beneath that heart

Bookend, new disposable camera, and new notebook in hand, I popped next door to Koffee. I explained the situation to the man behind the counter and he seemed excited about the idea. I'm still awaiting the owner's ultimate OK but it seems fine for now. We attached the camera and notepad with ribbon to the display. The guy asked me to put a little explanation of the project behind the display in case people wanted to know. I preferred to not have that but I put up a description of a community art project meant to be an outlet for spontaneous and free creation. I also suggested that people write their creations in the notebook, take pictures with the camera provided, OR take pictures with their cellphones and email them to me. The guy suggested that last option, and I think that for the clientele there it makes sense. There are many a camera phone about and many a reader/student/ostensibly creative type who might actually be interested enough to take a picture and send it to me.

However, I do feel prejudiced that I will not leave my email address in the laundromat. It feels somehow riskier, a more public exposition than in Koffee. I think that I'm guilty of trusting people with laptops and books, and I'm sort of embarrassed by that fact.

Planned Parenthood

I recently e-mailed Deanna to ask how the poetry experiment was going at PP. I did so somewhat shamefacedly; given the turmoil PP has been going through recently at the prospect of losing federal funding, I was hesitant to add anything else to Deanna's plate. She said that she had continued to take some photos but that activity had been slowing down. I told her that I'd come with a new display that had new words and asked if this project could in any way help the PP cause. She said probably not but to call my senators in support of PP. I still want to think of anything that might link this project to some sort of campaign for PP.

The next day, she emailed me to say that someone had walked away with the notebook of recorded poems. Quite a shame to lose all that but it is also befuddling and fascinating as to why someone would do that. I'm inclined to think that the thief didn't take the notebook out of a desperate need to possess this poetry, but I cannot think of another reason to steal a partially used notebook. Maybe just the temptation of seeing something easily pilfered was too overwhelming?

I arrived today at PP with the display that had been at the laundromat to make the switch, but alas! It had been long closed. So I will have to go back soon.

The laundromat, February 26

Today, I went in and told a young Latina employee I'd never seen before that the display was "mine" and that I was going to change it (I wanted to get a new batch of words out). She looked at me bemused as I extracted the bookend from under various bottles of hand sanitizer resting on its flat part. I always just feel so silly identifying myself as the proprietor of this display when I'm in the laundromat!

I took a photo of the board as I took it away from its home. Again, it is challenging to tell what lines have actually been created by a human hand and which -- if any -- go together. Here is my attempt:

love
protect me money smell
these
she dream we grow trust crime

trust you

The laundromat, February 23

Maria called me "honey" multiple times today. Also, there was new poetry.

Notebook says:

trust or wisdom first could grow between community police

And in another hand:

question, dream, secret, love, trust me!

Never Fear Protect Human Opportunity

Job, money, diffucult [sic], home

we do safe over crime

The board has some isolated phrases...it's hard to tell what's a conscious creation and what's random, and which lines go together, but here is my curation:

love me
over money
protect these
grow some trust
easy than money


difficult
never
here
search
first

NMS/PPSE

I still have to call Koffee's owners, go move the NMS display there if they are interested, and switch up the PPSE poetry board. I have a feeling that I will continue to postpone these ventures, which involve long walks. This week, I must do these things.

The laundromat, February 12

There was a lot of poetry very neatly arranged.

It says:
question police
you dream than search for wisdom first grow trust
love never fear or trust soon these protect home
human
over
money

smell between difficult crime some say

community could do him easy
was
she
home
as
money
did
they lock
villain
me

help
black
community
here
white
opportunity
we
enter
safe
job
cooperation

The laundromat, February 8

Maria wasn't there today - the counter was manned (womanned?) by a young Latina woman. I had once come in to ask her if putting up the display would be OK, but she didn't remember me.

"Is this yours?" she asked, smiling a little.

I felt sort of embarrassed. "Yeah..." I thought about explaining the project a little but went with some awkward empty phrase like, "It's...funny."

The notebook had nothing new written in it and was really far back on the counter (were the employees using it?). The woman saw me looking at it.

"They stole pages?"

"Yeah..."

The poems on the board are:

you never love me

safe
dream grow than
money first smell

home
could these
trust
was for fear job did human
they black

Planned Parenthood/Neighborhood Music School

Deanna's emails report little activity at PP. Her camera now has about 9 or 10 photos of poetry. I'm wondering if I should go change up the displays at all three sites.

No word from Neighborhood Music School. It might be a worthy experiment to move the display to Koffee. I haven't yet called the owners to clear it with them, but the cashier seemed enthusiastic enough that I have high hopes.

The laundromat, January 31

Today, I went in and found some poetry on the board. As I made my way over to the display, I dropped a pack of gum. Maria grabbed it up joyously and proclaimed, "You dropped your GUM!!" We laughed together, although I'm not sure either of us knew why. As I took pictures with my phone, the news on the TV announced the coming storm. I moaned about it, and Maria said that it was no big deal for her, that she walked anyway. "You're stronger than I am!" I said. It was a strange instance of camaraderie over gum and snow.

I had also seen Maria delivering laundry a few days earlier in my apartment building. She had recognized me and had said hello. I was heartened that she acknowledged me outside my usual context, although I'm not sure why I was surprised by it. I find myself avoiding hellos with particularly vague acquaintances but Maria clearly is not swayed by this inexplicable social tendency.

But back to the laundromat. I also took a picture of the terse addition of "Brazil" in the notebook. A lot of the previously written poetry has also been ripped out.

The poem on the board says:

dream
could between
we safe say
she as
you lock
did
trust these
help home
cooperation me opportunity
some here
over easye
grow enter
money job
difficult do
wisdom
community soon
never
for

smell first home community crime
police fear black human the
love white villainy

The laundromat, January 24 (?)

I went into the laundromat a couple of days ago. Most of the notebook's pages were missing. At the top of one page, someone had written "Brazil." No poetry on the board...

Neighborhood Music School, January 22

Today, I went to Neighborhood Music School to change the pad and add markers. The display is sitting front and center in the waiting area (it was Saturday morning, and I was joined in my set-up by only one small child, who watched me curiously). I found that there had been more activity than I had expected. Most interestingly, several repeated word magnets had been crossed out with a pencil, and replaced with words that would better help make logical sentences:

safe --> to
job --> us
money -->it

I suppose this has something to do with the youth of participants. It's kind of heartening to see that they aren't cowed by rules and boundaries and instead insist on doing what works for their, er, creative processes.

I might bring some new, more diverse words the next time I can get out there. I got the message, kiddos.

I added to the prompt on the board: "Make a poem, a story, a song, anything!" - I think a little more prescriptive (but also saying "anything is OK, don't worry") might provide better direction for kids. The prompt on the pad says: "Copy your creation here! Illustrate it! Or create something of your own about your community!" Again, a little on the nose. Lots of exclamation points to excite children, as a third-grade teacher might.

The notebook had some child-like handwriting and some more mature writing. Here's what it said:

opportunity that make money

More money to coportion. [sic]

Why discover more ancient money?

Trust Black as white

I turn the heart black, But love is found beneath her trust

White day always beautiful
White covers, protects, beneath
Ask: why lock up the heart as money in a safe?
I take life
trust home
know love.

Ancient hero
mean(s) romance opportunity,
but loud crime
end(s) opportunity at community.

Discover black in the heart took but that life will always make a difference. So I know which opportunity to take. Ancient love on homes cover up crime. Romance sees opportunity as Beautiful. Beneath community is cooperation at end.

The phrases on the board are:

safe to

I know to always discover opportunity in

love cover take opportunity
beautiful life
protect heart

*Also, I stopped by Koffee and talked to a cashier about possibly putting the display there. The clientele is diverse (a lot of Neighborhood Music School families drop in, as evidenced by mini violins and such permeating the space). The ambiance of the shop reminds me of a living room -- in this atmosphere of leisure, creating poetry might be something one might feel impelled to do...?

The laundromat, January 21

My laundromat excursions feel increasingly awkward to me. Yesterday, I approached the counter to take pictures. Next to the display, Maria was speaking in Spanish with another employee. I pretended not to understand anything. I wondered if I should jump in with a little Spanish quip to prove that I wasn't a completely disconnected (white) Yale student operating on another plane but then thought perhaps that would just be condescending. I asked Maria how she was -- she looked sort of put upon as she said, "Fine." I thanked her again and ran away, feeling somewhat ashamed. I felt like everyone was watching me.

There were two new poems on the board and one written on the pad of paper.

The board says:

for difficult or cooperation
easy smell
him wisdom
could some black police
search home
do we trust they
never dream
first than
am safe
help me
say money
grow soon
enter here
I love you
lock white trust

A second poem:

over villain
these fear
did this job
between money
was home

The paper says (an sort of jumbled composite of the two - so maybe they are one):

I love you
enter there
grow soon
say money help me
am safe
first, then
never dream
do we trust they
search home
could some black
police as question
him wisdom
easy smell
was home
between money
did this jod [sic]
these fear

NMS/PPSE

Everything seems to be going well at Planned Parenthood. Deanna is continuing to document. She's excited about the project and really communicative.

Lisa tells me that Neighborhood Music School's display has had little activity. I bought markers and a bigger pad to replace the notebook; I'll also make a bigger sign/prompt. But as this is not an adult site of waiting like the other two (I thought there might be parents waiting but doesn't seem to be the case), I'm wondering if I should nix this place. I thought maybe kids would play with the words but perhaps it's not a kid-friendly activity. I might put the display in Koffee, which is next door, and attracts many of the families and kids. Lisa even suggested it.

A bus stop would be optimal but I can't imagine the display would last long. Still, it's on my mind.

The laundromat, January 14/17

I went into the laundromat on Friday but neglected to post what I found in the notebook. It's below. I had jumbled up the poetry the last time I'd gone in, to inspire someone to make order of it, but nothing had been done.

The notebook had no further additions when I went today. However, a single phrase was on the board.

I feel increasingly like an oppressive outsider when I come in to photograph the board. Customers stare at me when I waltz in, photograph, and leave within two minutes; I'm the only one who is not doing laundry. I'm also, when I go, the only white person in the laundromat. I feel perhaps that photographing the setup in front of the customers sends the message, "I'm experimenting on you." Maybe I should start doing my laundry there, so I am not someone observing the customers, but also one of them.

The board says:
She lock white trust


The notebook says: Dream for human love, trust, wisom, never fear protect help the community and home of crime.

The laundromat, January 11

I went into the laundromat this morning. Maria (the woman who is often working there) told me that I didn't need to attach a pen with a string to the notebook. She pointed to a cup of pens and pencils on the counter, saying that people had been taking writing utensils from there. She watched me take pictures of the display, somewhat amused but completely accepting of this bizarre project. She smiled a little at my visible joy that poems had been written/created. I was pleased enough that I forgot to ask why it had been moved from its original locale. It seems that this will work fine after all.




















Notebook:
Que no haiga [sic] mas guerra y no mas abusos y mejor ambiente
[That there be more more war and no more abuse and a better environment]

Help community
Job opportunity

I dream for opportunity, wisdom, money
We never fear or question human help
This community will grow soon
First love your home
Do they trust cooperation between community
Could difficult job search increase crime?
Did police protect him?
Keep me safe from villain
Lock money, trust some in your home

Magnetic poetry board (the last entry in the notebook appears to be a slightly revised version of this poem):

I dream for wisdom opportunity money we never fear
or question human help this community grow soon
first love you home do they trust cooperation between
community could difficult job search crime
did police protect him me safe
villain lock money trust some home
vivid as black white say over here
enter she smell these am ly thane was easy

Planned Parenthood/Neighborhood Music School

At Planned Parenthood, Deanna, the woman in Education who helped me set up the display and has the disposable camera to document poems, reports that all is going well. The set-up is on the counter by check-in. She has taken a photo of the poetry every 2-3 days and says that people have been writing in the notebook, a few lines apiece. I'm going to go check it out in the next week. I'll probably have to bring another disposable camera, too.

Apparently, there hasn't been much activity at Neighborhood Music School, according to Lisa, my point person there. The sign isn't big enough to attract attention, and the set-up is in a hallway where people tend to just pass through. I'm going to perhaps make a bigger sign, geared toward kids, and add crayons and larger sheets of paper. I am wondering if, as I saw at my first laundromat visit, maybe the poetry is just an excuse to have that pad of paper to let people write what they want?

The laundromat, January 9

Day 1: The display was moved already from the magazine area, where there was a table and chairs, to the cashier's counter...doesn't seem conducive to extended playing and musing. I should go back and ask why they did this. Also, the pen was gone - I have to go back and attach one to a piece of string and then to the notebook. I also think I might go make a poem myself on the board, as an example to inspire people.

The only cohesive phrase on the board was:

for they love

The notebook says:

I help the community
I have no money
I was human
I thank God that he is help me with my life [written in different color ink]