Bad Fate (Photo by Steve Louie)
The first few times my Seattle-based band went to Vancouver, Canada to play D.I.Y. gigs, the city felt perfect.
Apparently, our B.C. buds enjoyed non-stop kick-ass shows with cross-genre bills and supportive crowds free of haters and assholes.
That’s all true, but it’s a bit more complicated.
While Vancouver is beautiful, its rents are high, its daily provisions overpriced. When not enabling puritanical liquor policies and corporate nightlife, local government re-writes bylaws to keep underground music out of sight.
The labor board’s latest ad campaign patronizes: “Hipster is not a real job.” An older one lectures: “Chance your music will get you signed: 0.00563%.” Many of those I’ve met live in creaky communal houses.
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(Photo from Flickr by NYC Marines)
Imagine a thirteen year old boy trying to stay awake after walking more than three days in the desert. He’s so desperate for water that he drinks from a puddle where a dead body has fallen.
Now imagine that seven years later that boy can’t get a legal job, go to college or visit his family, all because he’s an undocumented immigrant.
That’s the story of Andres Rocete, and hundreds of thousands of children that are brought to the United States in hopes of a better future.
But finally, these youth see a light at the end of the tunnel, thanks to the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, which offers them a chance to come out of the shadows to study and work legally in the US.
I talked to three friends who have applied for the program to find out how it’s working for undocumented youth and get tips for other young immigrants thinking of applying:
Oliver Kotelnikov outside the Pike Place Market bakery that made piroshkies famous in Seattle. (Photo by Yvonne Rogell)
Did your mouth just water? Yeah, mine too.
If anyone knows what cheese can do to people, it is Oliver Kotelnikov, owner of the Russian bakery Piroshky Piroshky in the Pike Place Market.
Apparently, cheese can make pastries fly off the shelves.
Cheese didn’t start it all, though.
Kotelnikov’s parents did, 20 years ago, on October 24th 1992.
”It was hectic. Everybody had their own idea of what was going to happen. It was immediately busy,” Kotelnikov recalls of the first day the bakery opened. “We didn’t know what to expect, but it’s a good sign when there’s just people.”
Frustrated with the outsourcing of American manufacturing jobs, Ryan Clark and Tim Andis founded Liberty Bottleworks. The company makes recycled aluminum bottles locally using mostly US machinery, materials and labor. (Photo by Alex Stonehill)
It was the middle of that dark week before the New Year. Christmas cookies were growing stale in tins on the counter and emails had begun to pile up again.
But the news of a plea for help from a forced labor camp in China cut through my holiday hangover.
The Oregonian reported that a Portland woman had found a note shoved into a Halloween decoration she bought at Kmart. The note, written partially in English, claims to describe conditions in a Chinese government labor camp where the Styrofoam “Totally Ghoul Graveyard Kit” was made.
An ariel view of the new Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI) in South Lake Union. (Photo courtesy MOHAI)
When I woke up New Years Day, I immediately regretted my plans to spend the day in a museum.
It was one of those uncharacteristically sunny winter days in Seattle. The kind where Seattleites crawl out of hibernation and the population of the city suddenly seems to double.
The sun glittered across Lake Union as I walked across the beautiful park that the Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI) now calls home. The museum moved from its original location in Montlake and, after a $60 million renovation, it’s more conveniently located and has space for its over 4 million historical artifacts.
But most importantly, with the move MOHAI has taken the opportunity to completely re-imagine the way Seattle’s story is told.