Day 15 - Musings on the East Side (Austin)

As I hoped, waking in the morning came to me much easier this morning.  I popped up before the alarm went off, threw on my clothes, and out the door.

It took a while for me to settle in for my walk.  I did not feel quite as listless at the start.  However, about a mile into it, I continued to feel more energetic and aware of my surroundings.  I noticed as I paced down Comal Street through to Lady Bird Lake that I was passing through over a hundred years of East Austin history.

As many may know, East of I-35 historically has been the home of many African and Latino/Hispanic American families and communities.

There is iconic Victory Grill on 11th Street, which opened in 1945 as a spot for returning African American servicemen after World War II.  Ike and Tina Turner, James Brown, Etta James, Janis Joplin, Billie Holiday, Chuck Berry and many other notable musicians played at the Victory Grill. As a result of segregation, there were several African American schools and colleges, a "Colored branch" library (George Washington Carver Library),  and community churches.  As African Americans left to live in the suburbs over the next twenty or thirty years, the area experienced a  major decline.

There also is a strong presence of Mexican Americans in East Austin. Recently, it was estimated that well over a third of the Austin population is Hispanic/Latino.  Traditionally, Mexican Americans in East Austin worked and lived from around 7th Street down to Cesar Chavez (aka 1st Street or Water Street) through to Lady Bird Lake on the Colorado River. A number of immigrant farmers came to Austin to become skilled workers, entrepreneurs, and educators among others.  Several churches and well known families became well established including Austin's first Hispanic mayor, Gus Garcia, who came from East Austin.

Of special note is the site of the French Legation, which was completed in 1842.  The site was developed after the Republic of Texas, since winning its independence, invited ministers from foreign countries to establish legations and develop diplomatic relationships.  It was believed that the French Legation was part of a larger plot to annex large portions of the Republic of Texas to become a colony of France.  The French Legation sits on twenty-one acres looking over downtown Austin just east of I-35.

So, within a five to seven mile walk, I was able to experience a wide swath of Austin's rich cultural history.  At present, East Austin is experiencing a wave of gentrification as individuals and families come in to purchase properties throughout the community.  There is an artist and musician community that resides, works, and plays on the East Side as well. This all makes for an interesting experience.

I'm proud to say that my mother's family also resided and went to college in East Austin years ago.  My children go to the neighborhood school and I really feel at home as I walk through my community.  Austin continues to be a huge adjustment for me from my time in Atlanta, New York, Massachusetts, and California.  It has grown on me and I'll see where I am in the next several years.  For now, Austin is the place for me.

I ended my walk with several sprints up a hill.  I'll feel the muscle pain tomorrow or at least on the following day.  I stayed on top of my water, enjoyed some relatively good food.  Still, no sweets. It sounds corny, but I'm feeling good in my neighborhood.

Day 6 - Hunger Games

The one thing going through my mind all day and went unaccomplished was the call to the life coach from the wellness program through my health insurance. As I sit hear contemplating the day, I cannot really give a good reason for not calling.  It wasn't a priority.

The first excuse was that I did not have the phone number, which led to me thinking I needed to look up the information online.  So, I pushed the chore of finding the number off until I had time to search through the Human Resources webpage.

The next excuse included my desire to have lunch, since it was already the late afternoon and I wanted to take a break from work instead.  I thought when I was done I would locate the number and call before going home.

Finally, I wanted to call after noticing that the end of the day approached quickly. I saw the remnants of my four servings of water sitting still in my recycled Powerade bottle.  I checked my email and recalled that I needed to enter grade changes for a few students. I got up immediately and planned on getting something to eat (yeah,  I still didn't eat).  On the way back, I'd go to the office across campus to completed the required paperwork.

When I returned to the office, the day was over and I was certain that the wellness program wherever it was located probably closed by then. I checked my email, responded to messages, made a few phone calls, and locked my door to go home.

Once I arrived home, I went to an early evening community presentation, ate dinner, and sat down to write this blog. Sitting here, I wondered how much time did it take to find that wellness program phone number for the life coach.

Wait for it . . . .

Approximately 40 seconds.  I opened my email, searched for Wellness Program, and there it popped up.

It is interesting the games we play with ourselves to avoid making change or steps toward making meaningful change.  I do not attempt to overestimate or underestimate the importance of talking with the life coach. Rather, I consider the power and deep psychology present in procrastination, which helps to delay important tasks to a later time.  Some say procrastination serves the person by providing a mechanism for coping with anxiety.

What am I anxious about?  Failure, not fulfilling my expectations and unsaid goals to be healthier and not continue the legacy past down the generations.  My mother, maternal and paternal grandparents all died from causes related to heart disease and/or cancer.  The goodness of their hearts did not suffice to lengthen their lives or make the quality of their last days pleasurable.  My mother died incoherent, unconscious of her circumstance, while my maternal grandfather died alone in his apartment after an apparent heart attack, and my maternal grandmother died of colon cancer in a hospital while battling advanced diabetes. My paternal grandfather died around the age of 52 related to cancer.

So, I know the burden a family can take on caring for loved ones who are gravely ill.  Some elder family died when I was too young to remember their presence.  I cannot tell you what my paternal grandfather looked like at all.  Although we could not do anything about my maternal grandmother's cancer, I could tell you stories of my grandfather's struggles with the government to provide proper medical coverage for my grandmother.  My grandfather's lasting description of President George Bush I: Pork chop.

There were hours spent at hospitals, sitting in waiting rooms to hear word, caring for proud people who spend their whole lives fighting for a better life.  My maternal grandmother, who was a school teacher, died at 63 and my maternal grandfather a WWII veteran extended his life to 77.  My mother also accomplished much in her short life, when she died at age 62.

I had accepted my mother's early death as a reflection of Black folks plight.  However, in a move to better appreciate and understand my family heritage and the legacy bestowed to me, I started plotting out my family tree online.  I learned going back at least  four or more generations on both sides of my family that it was not common for people to die so young. To the contrary, many people lived well into their nineties and beyond one hundred years.  The new information saddened me. It also invited me to fulfill my legacy.

I'm calling the life coach first thing in the morning.  I have the number and hope in hand.  It's hard to imagine being anxious about living up to what was given to me freely. The games continue.