Fellow List Members:

This "commentary" piece appeared in last week's issue (4/6/05) of The
Chaska Herald. It's a particularly florid example of a suburban view
of our fair city.

Enjoy.

-Paul C. Rohlfing
Standish, W-12

http://www.chaskaherald.com/Main.asp?SectionID=2&SubSectionID=11&ArticleID=7071

Commentary: Mi nombre es Tama 
By Tama J. Westman 

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

They say that when opportunity knocks, you had better open the door.
What's that other line about looking before you leap?

Recently, I walked through opportunity's door when asked to lend my
writing experience to the urban Latino community in Minneapolis.

I typed my interviewee's address into the Yahoo! Search engine, got in
the car, and headed downtown. But, as I pulled off 35W onto Lake
Street, my heartbeat sped up.

What was I doing here? How was a SWF (suburban white female) supposed
to relate to the street scenes so different from her safer small-town
life? Business locations bedecked with graffiti, gang symbols and
tough-looking individuals stood on corners, assaulting my eyes.

Passing the McDonald's as I continued with my driving directions, I
remembered getting lost one night eight years ago, when I was a newbie
Minnesotan.

I had pulled off the highway at this same exit and into the parking
lot of the fast food restaurant. About to get out of the car and ask
for directions, a squad car quickly swerved in and parked so close to
the driver's door it was impossible for me to open it.

Exasperated, but happy to see someone who might be able to guide me, I
rolled down the window. "Officer, I was wondering … "

"Lady," he interrupted, "I don't know what you are doing here, but,
look around. You see anyone not doing something illegal? If you want
to stay alive, keep inside your car, get back on the highway and head
home."

What a great introduction to Minnesota. I was just trying to get
downtown. But, at his warning, I looked around and realized my
terrible mistake. I had driven into the heart of trouble.

Though a cop was right next to me, I could see hookers leaning into
car windows and a money transaction between two less-than-friendly
looking individuals on the other side of the parking lot.

Now, after finding my way to the address, I parked the car and looked
up and down the same street. It seemed like any other neighborhood,
with homes and cars, and kids kicking a ball in the street. I
harnessed my memories and gathered my courage.

After all, I am an experienced world traveler. I have eight years of
Spanish, two years of French and a year of Portuguese under my
educational belt. It was still daylight; no need for tremors.

Calling on all the chutzpa I possessed, I crossed the street, holding
my purse with a vice-grip, and knocked on the door. When my
Spanish-speaking subject opened the door, I was ready.

"Hola, mi nombre es Tama … " 
That is the sum total of Spanish that I could recollect. I stammered
to remember any other words in Spanish. My mind ridiculously began to
count along with Big Bird, uno, dos, tres.

Education failing me as quickly as my deodorant, the teen, opened the
door further, smiled and said, "It's OK. I speak English."

Anti-climatic at best, I had a pleasant chat in the home of the former
gang member, now an active participant in the leadership program I was
assigned to write about.

Returning to the car 30 minutes later, I laughed at the stifling
fright that stole the language skills I was so certain would gird me.
I decided then and there to quit being an SWF and embrace the positive
excitement of urban life.

I learned that much of the environment in this community had changed
in recent years due to the impact of Urban Ventures, an organization
intent to develop community leaders and build a livable, sustainable
safe city neighborhood.

Opening my window wide as I took off down the street, I bumped up the
volume on the radio and began a new, less afraid, phase of my life.

I'd be glad to share more. Let's meet downtown. We can ride the light
rail, pop a latte from a corner cafe and listen to the sounds of the
city. Returning home, Chaska will seem that much sweeter for having
stepped out for awhile.

Tama Westman can be reached at [EMAIL PROTECTED]
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