We are living in a society that is by and large controlled by people who believe in segregation. We are living in a society that by and large is controlled by a people who believe in racism, and practice segregation and discrimination and racism.
Malcolm X, "Not Just an American Problem"
The headaches seemed to be accompanied by "stars". Colorful ones. Transparent ones. I try to describe them in on these Mercy Housing complaint forms. Pressure. Like someone tightening a scarf around my head. So many "stars" appearing first on my left then on my right. So many, I had to push back from my laptop on my dining room table and find something to distract myself. A walk around a small apartment. A walk to the kitchen for a glass of water.
I hear her. But I don't own a television or stereo. By choice. I have two radios in two rooms tuned to Wisconsin Public Radio, a performance, live from the Met in New York. I turn up the radio only a bit so as not to aggravate my headache but try to drown out the pounding. As expected, as if dealing with an impossible child, the neighbor responds. More pounding.
She is, by her own admission, mentally ill. While many of us seniors aren't opposed to living with those suffering from mental illness, many of us have or might have Alzheimer, we are opposed to the ones who love violence for the sake of violence and don't understand peaceful co-existence with others. We are opposed to those who are hateful. Cruel. Racist.
If she can't take any noise, this should qualify her for assisted living. This is independent living. I do walk, which she has complained about. Without shoes, mind you, in my home. My cats do play and jump. In my home. I pay rent. But if I do, this qualifies me for special treatment: the placement of a ceiling vibrator with thumper under my floor?
When I called the police on May 16th , at 12:00 midnight, I expected them to tell me that she had issues with my laptop. Laptop! I was watching an Amazon Prime Video. I kept falling asleep. But I'm 70-years-old. It's my home. My living room floor. She could go in her bedroom. But no, she must be right under me with the ceiling vibrator. I expected the police to tell me, as they have when she has called them almost three weeks in a row, that they can't hear my laptop. And neither can she!
But they knocked and told me to brace myself. It was my toilet. I shouldn't use the toilet after 10 pm at night.
This according to the white woman below. All three of us laughed. But later that night, I'm awake, wondering, what will she think to do next? There's history of blacks becoming fodder in wars against democracy in America.
The next morning, I submitted the badge numbers of the two officers and information they wrote out on the Mercy Housing complaint form to management. They spoke of some "code" put on the woman, for mental-health intervention, next time. Embarrassing for this manager if, as suspect, the woman is below me to complete a mission to finally, once and for all, send me packing!
Well, well, well... The manager has to speak with the police. I don't know! I don't know! I wasn't there!
I said the police was present, and the police, which happened to be two white men. But I didn't say this, talked with this white woman (but I left out that adjective, too). Well, the manager says, she still doesn't know.
So the police don't matter?
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