The Best Parsley

Raising kids in Detroit is a mantra. Every day I wonder about their education, my community, friends, violin, karate, Hebrew: how to balance the “good life” and the familiar flow of suburban living with Ann and my conviction of “holding the space” as someone once said of us:  Staking out ground in the city and refusing to give up on the notion that Detroit is good enough for our children. And that the other 300,000 children in the city are too good to give up on.

There are days, weeks, even years of despair, when I am sure that my choices are entirely selfish (as in for my political beliefs for the greater good) and my kids are on the losing side of a  misguided social experiment. I still have those moments as of late, but fewer of them. Detroit is becoming an interesting and often times, quite lovely place to raise kids. Last weekend reminded me of the rich fabric of their lives.

It started  without them, as they traveled a a block from my house with Ann and their Aunt Te Te to the local breakfast joint, “The Clique” where literally, everyone knows their name. More importantly, everyone knows that Ari gets the pancakes shaped like Micky Mouse. Politicians and opinion-makers are known to meet here, as well as locals and churchgoers and residents of the motel adjacent to it. Pretty much everyone is welcome on this slice of Jefferson.

While they were dipping Mickey’s ears in maple syrup, I took a quick trip to the Eastern Market. As if there is a quick trip to the market these days. Not only is it so packed with suburbanites making their weekly pilgrimage to their favorite farmer stand and breakfast joint, but city dwellers find each other repeatedly stall by stall. In my lowest days in Detroit some 20 years ago, I used to go to the market on Saturdays (or at 1:30 a.m. during the week!) to revive my spirits. Now it is a weekly reminder of the progress we have made and the vibrant community that is growing in Detroit. The  staff at the “Grown in Detroit” booth, an outlet for a grassroots co-op of 90 Detroit farmers, smile in amusement as my eyes water there weekly, looking at their abundant display of Detroit-grown food. Buying huge bunches of vibrant green kale from Will, who is getting ready to launch his own  farm full time in the Detroit neighborhood where he homesteads, delights me to no end. Will’s warm smile is icing on the cake.

Carrying my massive eucalyptus bouquet, I ran into Toby Barlow, executive creative director over Ford for Team Detroit and frequent contributor to NY Times. He introduced me to a tall blond friend from Los Angeles and told me that he is “thinking about moving his business from LA to Detroit.”  “Of course he is”, I laughed, “ He gets to be a rock star in Detroit”. Start something great here and you too can be a rock star.  Big fish. Little Pond. Not a bad way to go.

Then off to the annual fundraiser with my kids  at their school, Detroit Waldorf School in Indian Village. 150 members of our community were there, young and old, black and white, rich and not-so-rich. Musicians, artists, entrepreneurs, grandmas. Stay at home parents, chefs, even the “Trend Watcher” for Target (isn’t that a great job?). The Waldorf community is as rich and interesting as any in Detroit and they showed up with zeal. The event? A knit-a-thon. “Now that sounds like a show stopper!” said one of the women in my mother daughter book club  with good natured  sarcasm. She’s right, of course.. Knitting. Fundraising. Detroit. What do these things have in common? How do they come together to raise money, much less to attract an urban population.

It turns out the Waldorf community that has jumped into this event includes not only the usual suspects: kids, moms, grandmas and other serial knitters, but an unlikely force. The Skein gang is a group of hip Dads who started publicly knitting at  macho joints like Slows and Woodbridge Pub to raise money for the school and to “come out” as knitters and supporters of the Waldorf community. As if to reinforce my feelings that this might be the coolest places to raise my children,  my five year old sports-loving son asked me in earnest, “Can I go out and play  football, right after I finish knitting?”.

From there to the Detroit Childrens’ Museum for a 5 year birthday party for our friend Tula. Her parents Scott and Emily moved here a decade ago, following Grace Boggs and a generation of activists (including yours truly)  committed to rebuilding, revitalizing and renewing Detroit from the ground up. These are “money where your mouth is” folks and the party was full of them: Julia Putman, Faith Howard Drain,  Al Defreece, Kebibi and Rebecca Dorn. A  living directory of amazing Detroiters  lovingly raising their  kids against all odds in Detroit.

Sunday was only slightly less busy. We had to prepare for the Halloween Doggie Dress Up Party at “Canine to Five” on Cass and Seldon. This is in the south end of the Cass Corridor for those who don’t know it, south of MLK, where no new businesses would dare open a decade ago. And yet Liz Blondy is rocking and rolling with her dynamic doggie day care business with hundreds of loyal  customers weekly. 50 dogs showed up, most  in costume, on Sunday with their owners to “bob for balls” and “find the bone in the haystack”. Rafi and my new grand dog Vegga , in their matching  bakers uniforms, were 2 of the winners in the costume contest .And the competition was fierce!

Owner Liz Blondy is another Detroit rock star. Getting the picture?

And on and on…my kids are blessed to be able to go to a great private school in the city and travel out to the suburbs for karate and violen and Hebrew lessons every week. I do not take this for granted. And I do not for a moment criticize anyone who leaves the city to raise their children. It is a good and reasonable choice. But for those of us who are “holding the space”, affirming our belief in the goodness of Detroit and its residents by daring to raise our kids here, it sure is nice to have some fun while we do it in a community that shares our choices.

Detroit might not be the family friendly city of Chicago or Minneapolis, but last weekend it felt pretty friendly to me.