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Monthly Archives: March 2017

A House is Not a Home

I just finished blasting the Mayor’s office as well as the Director of DC Housing and Community Development. I am not naive to believe that my comments will be addressed or even read, but I am sick to death of seeing this type of abuse.

This is the Nation’s Capitol. I believe that we pay the HIGHEST taxes, have no representation AND have extremely shitty and limited affordable housing. Over and over, we hear about property owners in our city (seldom do they even live here) exploiting residents by taking their rent and providing housing that is unfit and unsafe. They are finally hauled to court, ordered to pay fines and nothing changes. WHY?!?? Is it because the impacted residents are on the low socio-economic rung of society?

I do not understand why there is no cap to the neglect that a landlord can inflict. If you have over X number of code violations and/or X number of lawsuits, your property can be seized and sold. What are agencies waiting for? Someone to die? A child to get seriously hurt?

I am so disgusted…

The Rental Housing Accommodation Nuisance Abatement Amendment Act Of 2016 was introduced last May in the DC Council but no action has been taken on it to date beyond it being added to the Public Register.

More, if you’re interested…

North Philly Notes article

Urban Turf article

Washington City Paper article

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Have You Seen My Mojo? 

I lost it somewhere between August when my 8 year-old started asking me questions about Trump and December when I still had a real-life Michael Scott (fictional character of The Office) as a director. Good news is Scott is gone! I think you know the bad news.

I have not posted in a long time. I have not written (aside from work) in a long time. For me, that’s a bad spot… I managed to  eek out a poem to my love, David, for his birthday but it was a struggle. 

I am uninspired. Not surprising, but no less disturbing. Oh, there are plenty of constipated thoughts in my head but they want to stay. I almost posted after I finally made it to the National Museum of African American History and Culture this month, but even that never happened. 

I don’t like this mental space. It’s unhealthy and I don’t know the cure. Ideas are welcome. 

 
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Posted by on March 1, 2017 in Health, Real Talk, Reflection, writing

 
 
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