In the fifth season on TLC’s Police Women, they have come to Cincinnati. It’s basically watching tough women on Cops, just a little more personal. I received three calls/texts after the season premiere to inform me that my apartment building was on television. (Someone was shot in the leg on my block). Yeah, yeah, the last thing Cincinnati needs is an hour a week showcasing it’s crimes. Hey, at least they are stopping crime.
Harry’s Law premiered tonight on NBC. Kathy Bates stars as a lawyer who is fired from her boring job and fate leads her to the streets of OTR and fight for real people, or something like that. It’s the most ridiculous portrayal I have ever seen. The set looks like a cross between It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and Boston Legal. Minus some pictures of the skyline, this was filmed in some place far from Over-the-Rhine. I’m not sure the director has ever seen our city to be honest. If he has, he didn’t take many notes of the citizens. Despite the butchered exterior of the show, the premise has a corny, heart felt tone. Like if there were lawyers on 7th Heaven. This women(Bates) was hit by a car in the neighborhood, and now she is trying to save every kid on the street. She gives teary eyed speeches about the youth, and her new firm partner puts up energetic fights for the same cause. It’s the first episode, and they’re already changing the neighborhood. I’m here now, and we are changing for the better, but these lawyers aren’t real, or on the way. If you don’t take my word for it, you can view full episodes of this disaster on NBC.com.
There’s a lot of progress happening in OTR, don’t get me wrong. This show however, isn’t close to the truth.
August 27th, 9 PM - I was drinking a daiquiri with a friend in my apartment. Then we hear a loud bang from the street to our south. He told me it was just a car back fire, we then heard it three more times.
Later that evening, we walk to a bar and things seem fine. We return around midnight, and there are five cop cars on the street to our north.
I just checked a local crime website. There were twenty three reported crimes that day (theft, assault, drive by, shooting, etc) in Over-The-Rhine.
On the way back from the Nuyorican tonight, my cousin, J and I were walking down 125th.
As we passed through a group of men a voice on the left called out, “Snow Bunny, Snooooww Bunnny, Snow Bunny.” A voice to our right answered, “Nothing wrong with that. I like ice.”
A few steps later I said, “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
Two young men were walking just a few paces ahead of us and they slowed down to respond to me. The one on the left said with a smile, “Oh, don’t worry about them. Where are you all from? You from America?” (Again, assuming we’re lost, but kindly this time.)
The other man said, “Don’t let them put fear in your hearts.”
We answered and said thank you and goodnight.
As we walked away, he called out again, “Don’t let them put fear in your hearts.”
Yesterday I had a job interview at Findlay Market. Since it is five blocks away, I decided to walk. I put on black slacks, a white shirt, and a black vest and wore black heals. The first three blocks were nothing out of the ordinary; some strange looks, but mostly pick up lines, trash and beer cans on the sidewalk, people leaning out their windows talking to pedestrians, etc. Then, there was Race St. As soon as I stepped onto the 17th block, there was silence. I walked one block with the 15+ people outside starring at me without a word. A man steps in front of me right as I can see my destination.
"What’s the FBI doing here?" he asks.
Confused, and slightly concerned I reply “what do you mean?”
"Girl, we know who you with"
The rest of our conversation consisted of how he knows I am with the FBI, no matter what I say, and that the only white girls that walk here are cops and prostitutes. (In retrospect, I am really glad they thought I was a cop, and not the other).
I walked passed him while he was sill questioning me. His friends were yelling for him to leave me alone, they were certain I was packing.
This was my Wednesday afternoon.
Cross your fingers I got the job! (I see myself driving to Findlay in the future).
After 72 hours of driving, cat-piss motels, and sleep deprivation J and Z have finally “moved” to Harlem. ”Moved” because boxes are still piled everywhere from the couch to the kitchen sink, and halfway up our spiral staircase. But we are here! And we received a lovely good morning from our super at 9 AM, telling us to please (not so politely) move our rug and trash from the stairwell. Fire hazard? We’re on the fifth floor. The only people tripping over our trash would be, well, us.
Now the whirlwind begins. Cleaning (there were 3 boys here before us - enough said), unpacking, decorating, visitors arriving, catching up with friends, applying to jobs, and exploring the neighborhood. Can’t wait to check out the Demolition Depot (they have a great sign) and Salvation Army down the street.
So here we are, G, Z, and J, together for the last night for quite some time. We had this brilliant idea to start a blog as a way to stay connected and share our experiences in these crazy new neighborhoods. It has taken us 2 hours to figure out how to work this damn site, but we’re getting there.
Starting August 11th, Z and J will be permanently settled in Spanish Harlem. G is staying in the Nasty Nati in good old OTR, where she moved two months ago. Thankfully she has a block party to look forward to; it’ll lessen the pain of Z and J’s departure.
Holla back. Peace out. Bitches. (And have a good night.)