city university of new york

We were in New York during graduation weekend for Columbia University, New York University, and Pace University. Happy graduates in their caps and gowns along with their smiling parents posed for photos in front of Radio City Music Hall, Central Park, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the grounds around Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick's Cathedral, and other places that held special memories. 

While those are a few of the big name universities in the city, the City University of New York spans 25 campuses across the city’s five boroughs, offering a wide range of undergraduate, graduate and continuing education opportunities to students of all ages and backgrounds.  

From the halls of the Borough of Manhattan Community College (CUNY) comes Stephanie Pacheco, the 2024-2025 National Youth Poet Laureate who wrote a poem highlighting her experience at The City University of New York and her perception of the University’s uniqueness. She is 21 years old, a writing and literature major, and was chosen as the national youth poet laureate in 2024, the eighth person to hold the title. (The first was Amanda Gorman, who read a poem she had written at Joseph Biden’s inauguration in 2021).

So much talent, enthusiasm, and optimism in today's graduates. These young people bring and are the hope for the future. As Stephanie wrote in the last line of her poem, "We've got work to do."

I wonder if the students are as awe-struck as I was to see One World Trade Center right there as they walk to or from campus.

Dear CUNY

By Stephanie Pacheco

Dear community college,
I can’t talk about you
Without a train rattling the earth in the background.
Without the post-class hangout spot coming into the conversation
I can’t paint your graceful portrait
Without the mention of
The campus lawns we lay on
That hold us warm in our presence,
And write of us in our absence

I can’t talk about you
Without mentioning our mascot
I met him in the gym once
At a club fair.
And it was insane.
A larger-than-life panther,
A body composed of the spirit of all of our beating hearts.
Our mascot the breakdancer,
the once in a blue moon guest star appearance.

Dear community college,
You taught me the art of learning how to fall asleep anywhere
In lounge chairs
On the 2 train
On my homework.
You taught me the art of making any place
My home.

Dear community college,
I want to tell you about my mom
Who dreamt of attending a college like mine
Who told me when I walked on my campus,
to whisper to the hallways and ask if they remembered her.
Who told me if the bathroom tiles forget her name,
If the chalkboards told me they cannot pronounce the syllables of her body,
Then I must be the one to carry her memory like lecture.
My school,
Of impossible nostalgia

Dear community college,
You taught me about how beautiful the city is when it sleeps
The brightest galaxies in the sky are our city lights
When they replace the sun,
Nothing is between us and the future,
No plane of existence can swallow me here.

This is for the professors who taught me how to laugh in a classroom
Who in me saw a dream.
Who said don’t nobody got anything on us.
Said envision the world I want and be bold enough to write it.
Who gave me printed versions of their syllabus
to write my poems on the back of

Dear CUNY,
I don’t know of any other school that runs its city like you
That paints its town with its face
like you
Everywhere I turn, every building is a student
Every train car is a classroom
CUNY students are the real mayor of New York
Every leader I need already lives in me
Every philosopher I know wears a tote bag and hangs out at my library
My favorite scriptures are those I have to reserve
Using my school library’s website.

This is for my librarians
You know, sometimes I ignore the emails
about my overdue books
They tell me I renew too often.
They actually tell me I haven’t renewed my loan at all.

But at least the only loan I’ve acquired
Is at my school library
The only debt I owe is to them.
To you all, the magnificent holders of knowledge
You all, who remind me to dream like our city lights.
To be that kind of impossible.

To the impeccable cleaning staff and cafeteria chefs,
The people who built pyramids in Egypt,
Modeled their precision after you.
I thank you for your hands.
I thank you for what they have created for me to live in.
You know, I remember
When it would be 11pm and the only thing between me and my sleep
Was an essay that I knew I wouldn’t do if I went home.
It would just be us on the entire campus.
Just me and these folks who made everything they touched shine,
Who are responsible for the creation of stars.

This poem is for everything that keeps a boat floating
For the makers and shakers
For the thinkers,
The dreamers,
For those of us who dare.

For everyone whose parents bet their life on the ocean between their homelands and here,
And prayed for children on the way
For those who live by train tracks,
In the spaces below coming and going,
Who bet their lives on possible destinations
For those of us who are determined
To create a colosseum in the collective
For those of us who write, and sing, and study, dance, build, teach, care, and love Like our breath depend on it
Because they do
We are no one’s lower class
We are nobody’s other

Come join me in the sanctuary we’ve got for now
In our classroom turned temple
We’ve got work to do.

the friday feed: sullivan street bakery

A few years ago I took a bread baking class from the University of Dayton Lifelong Learning Institute. UDLLI is for people 50 years and over and for $80.00 (total) you can sign up for as many classes as you'd like to take. 

Bill, who taught this class, is a self-taught master bread baker. Every summer he and his wife go to Europe, ride their bikes for a week on a tour, and then spend a few weeks traveling by other modes of transportation. He loves European bread, especially the French breads, so he immersed himself in study with recipe books, talked to friends who baked bread as well as European bakers to get all kinds of tips for the perfect loaf of bread. He has built a brick bread oven in his backyard. Lucky neighbors who get to smell baking bread wafting through the air!

One class, he talked about Jim Lahey, a man who traveled to Rome as an art student and upon his return home discovered he couldn't find bread in New York like the beautiful crusty loaves he had in Italy. Lahey decided to recreate those loaves. In 1994, with the help of a restauranteur friend, he opened the Sullivan Street Bakery to bring Italian breads to New York City. In 2006, Lahey shared an easy way for people to make and appreciate delicious bread at home using his no-knead bread method. You mix the dough and let it rise overnight. It's a great recipe for those beginning their bread baking journey.

The first morning in New York I took a walk from the hotel in Midtown to the Sullivan Street Bakery in Hell's Kitchen. It was a mile away, going from busy, corporate Midtown through vibrant, noisy, bustling, Hell's Kitchen to a small, quiet storefront in between 10th and 11th Avenues. Once I crossed 10th, I could smell the baking bread. What a way to start the day!

Just a hop, skip, and a jump away!

While in New York, the haiku muse dodged me but these words ended up in my journal. 

On a quiet street

tucked away in noisy, bustling Hell’s Kitchen

a heavenly scent of yeast and flour 

permeates the air.

From wheat to loaf the divine aroma 

brings the comfortable embrace that says 

peace be with you.

And then on the flight home, a haiku happened. 

It was OK. 

A few days later, another idea formed. 

I liked it better. 

So now, two haikus for you!

If my scribbles are hard to read:

A heavenly smell

wafts its way through Hell’s Kitchen.

Aromatic peace.

A scent from heaven

wafts its way through Hell’s Kitchen.

Give us our day’s bread.

travel

The first time I went to New York City was in 1964 when my family traveled to Springfield, New Jersey, to visit my grandparents. Springfield is an hour away from NYC. While we were there, my parents took my brother and me to the New York World's Fair. In 1964, we lived in Wooster, Ohio and moved to Owensboro, Kentucky. Neither town was very big. Wooster's population was 27,000+ and Owensboro's was around 40,000. New York City was around 15,000,000. Big difference. Even though I was 7 years old, that first visit to that big metropolis made quite an impression on me. Such a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and experiences.

Typically when we visited my grandparents, trips to New York didn't happen. We went to the Jersey shore, historic sites in the area, Turtleback Zoo, and other kid-friendly attractions. On a clear day, I could see the New York City skyline, and kept it in my dreams. Someday...

I didn't get back to NYC for a long, long time. We went with friends after we were married and hit all the tourist attractions. When Todd was in mortgage banking, we went to conventions. While the guys were at their meetings and seminars, their wives went shopping. That was all fine and well but I enjoyed going out on my own and taking walks to look around.

Then it happened. Our daughter moved to New York (Brooklyn) and we went to visit her six months later. On our first visit, she said, "Mom, we'll visit Times Square once  to get it over and done with. People who live here avoid going there. After that we'll explore neighborhoods." And that's what we did. We walked, we took public transportation, we went to the local bars and restaurants, we ate meals on her rooftop, we did what New Yorkers do. While she lived in New York, we visited her 2-3 times a year and the city became familiar, comfortable. New York has become part of me and it has taught me to see things and places with new eyes, including my hometown. Life is an adventure, no matter where you are.

wednesday's words and wanderings and wonderings

New York City...where everything is BIG! 

Big Louis Vuitton trunks, the big Fleet Week celebration with naval ships lining the Hudson River, big art installations - some permanent and some temporary, and big superscrapers reaching toward the sky. 

Fleet Week began on May 21 with the Annual Parade of Ships. We didn't watch the ships come in - didn't want to deal with the throng of people who flock to the Hudson to watch the ships dock. That standup paddle boarder figured out a way to get his up-close-and-personal view. Good for him but a BIG no thank you, not for me. The day was chilly, the water cold and just not the best to swim in. I got the shivers watching him.

After looking at some of the Fleet Week ships, we walked down to Hudson Yards to get out of the damp chill. There stood the Vessel and we were surprised to see people walking in it. The Vessel opened to the public in March 2019. Todd and I were there when it opened and climbed it from top to bottom, taking in some gorgeous views of New York City, the Hudson River, and of course New Jersey. It was a very cool experience in this open air piece of art. In 2021, the Vessel closed indefinitely due to four suicides. It reopened in October 2024 after the installation of more safety barriers and now anyone who wishes to climb the Vessel must buy a ticket. No more free access.

Rockefeller Center always has art installations in its plaza. American sculptor John Chamberlain (1927 - 2011) created these sculptures made with aluminum foil. This is the first time these sculptures have been displayed in the U.S. Chamberlain was a pioneer in the use of color in sculpture. I really enjoyed looking at these. They are bold and abstract and contrast with the Art Deco buildings at Rockefeller Center.

A walk through Central Park on our last day in the city. Look at this view of some of the newer skyscrapers. I remember when the first supertall skyscraper was constructed. For me these overly soaring buildings add nothing to the skyline except for a builder's attitude of sticking up a middle finger that says, "Look! I built the tallest tower in New York City." The board at one of the supertalls is suing its developer for fraud in concealing structural deficiencies, repair costs, diminished resale value, and reputational damage. Big buildings come with big headaches.

From New York City to Dayton, Ohio. When we got home, our daughter, son-in-law, and little grandson were at our house. They came for a visit over Memorial Day weekend. I didn't get any photos of my little guy. He had a stuffy nose when they arrived and it turned into a full-blown snot waterfall. He did not feel well. For one of our meals, I made a salad that called for a honey mustard dressing. I took a taste test and oooo-weee, it was tart! It definitely needed more honey. The extra drizzle made a fun doodle and took away the pucker factor!

On Memorial Day we went to the Dayton National Cemetery to see the American flags placed at each grave. Military cemeteries, regardless of the time of year, make one reflect on the sacrifices many Americans have made to preserve our freedom. Everything about these cemeteries evokes military precision: The headstones are set in straight lines, the height and distance between each stone is uniform, like rows of soldiers in formation. One of the most unique aspects of the national cemeteries is the equality shown to the dead.

One of Dayton's "favorite sons" is the poet Paul Laurence Dunbar. His father, Joshua Dunbar, is buried in the Dayton National Cemetery because of his service in the Civil War. Joshua Dunbar was a slave in Kentucky, escaped and fled to Canada through the Underground Railroad network, and returned to the United States after the creation of the United States Colored Troops. He served in the 55th Massachusetts Regiment (Colored).

After our visit to the cemetery we swung through downtown to see the river fountain display. Typically Memorial Day is the first day the fountains start on their display for the summer, but due to the NATO Parliamentary Assembly's meetings last week, they were turned on early for all the foreign delegates to see. We arrived at Deeds Point Metro Park for the 6:00 p.m. (1800) display. Hearing that first "whoosh" as the fountains began their 10 minute show was music to my ears.

While we watched the fountains as Deeds Point, these two bike riders sped past us to get to the sidewalk to ride through the fountains' spray. They had a blast riding back and forth, back and forth through the mist. Wonderful joys of childhood. Who knows...maybe (when the weather is warmer) I'll ride my bike along the path as the fountains put on their show.

 

laguardia airport (lga)

For a long, long time, LaGuardia Airport was a poorly-regarded airport and now it is one of the best in North America. From 2016 to 2022 it underwent a massive $8 billion modernization project, which included the construction of new Terminals B and C. Todd and I went to New York every one of those construction years. We never knew where the taxi stations or the Uber pick ups would be or how long it would take to get out of the airport. For the return trip home, we left our hotel in Midtown Manhattan 3.5 hours before our departure because of traffic and also for the time it took to get through security. But with each year, everything progressed into a spectacular transformation.

While walking through Terminal B on the way to the Uber and Lyft garage, we pass a transparent floor to ceiling photo collage showing the urban landscape of New York City. At this point, people have picked up their luggage and are hurrying to their transportation. I love this hallway of art. The light shines through the building scenes, illuminating the art, giving you a feel for the bright lights of the city, and sharing quotes from and about Fiorello La Guardia introducing visitors to this man, the first Italian-American Congressman, founder of this busy airport and New York City's dynamic mayor from 1934-1945. And while I am taking pictures, some people slow down and even stop for a moment to see what has caught this lady's eye.

 

monday's mulling: memorial day

"Our debt to the heroic men and women in the service of our country can never be repaid. They have earned our undying gratitude. America will never forget their sacrifices." ~ President Harry S. Truman

Three Flags by Jasper Johns, 1958, Whitney Museum of American Art, New York City

memories

Some photographs take you back to a specific moment in time with all the memories attached to it.

This photo from May 23, 2020 showed up on a Facebook memory. It's not a great photo. I caught it after a rainstorm blew through and gave a break in the sky for some sunset colors to close the day. On my Facebook page I captioned it, "Loving the light after a rainstorm and having fun with reflections." A lot of friends gave me the good ole thumbs up on the pic and caption.

May 2020. This was during the time of the COVID shutdown. At this point in her life, my mom had been in assisted care for six years, the last three being in memory care for her Alzheimers.The Alzheimers progression and the COVID isolation caused Mom to be very agitated and aggressive, she hallucinated and felt threatened, and was violent. One day, I received a call from Mom's Hospice nurse. I could hear Mom yelling in the background as the nurse told me that Hospice recommended that Mom go on comfort care. Talk about feeling the weight of the world.

After talking with my siblings and as much as difficult as it was to make this decision, we decided that comfort care was the route to go. And because this was an end of life matter, all of us were able to go into the care facility at the same time and be in the room with mom for as long as we wanted. Sometimes we were there as a group, other times a few. We talked to Mom, reminiscing about our favorite foods she cooked, vacations that we took, her involvement with the schools we attended, just being a wonderful mom and grandma. 

May 23 was an all day rainy day and we took shifts visiting Mom. One of my brothers and I visited her after dinner and as we talked about the rainy day, we laughed at how the weeds would grow like crazy in the gardens, how her gardens were always so beautiful, how the birds loved splashing in the puddles, and the fact that her room looked over the soccer field where she watched her grandsons play during their high school years. Our hearts felt as dreary as the cloudy, gray sky but at the end of the day the sun brightened the sky, was it a sign that we made the right decision? I don't know but it felt like a sign that she would be in good hands as she passed into the world that she believed in.

Today marks five years that she has been gone. In 2020, Memorial Day fell on May 25. Mom was part of the Greatest Generation. She was very patriotic and thought the American flag was the most beautiful flag in the world. Because of the holiday, flags adorned the grounds at her care facility, flew from the front porches of many homes, and lined many of the streets around town. Such a perfect send off.

occupying time

Oh, the things one does to occupy her time while traveling on a plane with no wifi.

This is why I always get  a window seat. I like to look out the window and I like to take pictures. It's a good combination and it passed the 1 hour, 20 minute flight time. I took almost 50 cloud shots, deleted a bunch of them, took a screenshot of the cloud montage and voila! 

 

the friday feed: first class champagne

A week ago we were notified that our Saturday morning flight to New York was cancelled and scrambled to find a replacement flight. It took three hours of talking to airline customer service reps looking at numerous airports, giving us options that had 1-2 stops, and crazy flight patterns, We finally ended up with a non-stop afternoon flight with first class seats. It was a blessing and a celebration.

Champagne on a plane

cancellation aggravation

bubbles rid troubles!

 

the art of noticing

I took a walk to the pharmacy. It's not a real thrilling walk - walk on the sidewalks past houses along a sometimes busy street to the small shopping plaza. As I walked home, one of the cheap plastic bags filled with my purchases started to rip and I looked down to make sure nothing had fallen out. There it was, that little sunflower hanging out over the sidewalk. It took away my aggravation with the cheap bag. With my attention focused looking down, these other sidewalk treasures caught my eye. 

 

wednesday's words and wanderings and wonderings

Cleveland, OH:

Oh the things one sees when taking a fussy little granddaughter on a stroll to calm her down. To be fair, she had her two month check-up with the pediatrician and got three shots so she had good reason to be unhappy. Living in Cleveland, one sees a lot of orange and brown (the colors of the Cleveland Browns professional football team). We passed this mailbox a few times as we walked. It's eye catching and fun and certainly shows team spirit. But that orange garage door...

Dayton, OH:

30 years ago the City of Dayton and Wright-Patterson Air Force Base hosted delegates for the Peace Accords to end the Bosnian- Serbian War. Starting today, delegates from the NATO nations are arriving in Dayton for the Spring NATO Parliamentary Assembly. For the last few months there has been a lot of hustle and bustle to make downtown Dayton sparkle. From street repair to picking up trash and painting, beautifying the gardens at the downtown MetroParks, hanging welcome banners for all the member countries, bringing in new art work, and preparing the perimeter and security for the NATO village. It's now showtime for the city.

New York City, NY:

We're in New York City now! We were supposed to leave bright and early Saturday morning but later in the evening on Friday, I got a notice on my American Airlines app that our flight was cancelled. The severe weather system that caused a lot of tornado damage in Kentucky and Missouri caused this cancellation and consequently three hours of scrambling to find another flight. Finally we found a flight out of Columbus and got the last two seats (FIRST CLASS!) that got us to NYC on Sunday afternoon. So here we are! That view of Lower Manhattan on the approach into LaGuardia made all the stress of that hassle and lack of sleep go away.

lilacs

The lilacs and their heavenly aroma are fading. I take my time when walking past my lilac bush to enjoy that unmistakable fragrance of spring. Gotta grab the good stuff while it’s here!

 And just a fun FYI...

monday's mulling: sidewalk gallery

Last Friday while running some errands, I drove past Stivers School for the Arts. It was a beautiful, sunshiny day and the sidewalk in front of the school was filled with students drawing on the concrete panels. I didn't stop to see what they were doing but returned on Saturday morning when the parking lot was vacant and the street traffic quiet. The Class of 2025 Senior art majors created a sidewalk gallery as its last hurrah before graduation. What a fun way to end their high school days! These talented, young adult artists sure have come a long way from their days of playing with sidewalk chalk as little children. And I'll bet they had just as much fun.

confusion reigns

A little while ago, for whatever reason, the topic of sharks and where they lived came up. The Google search ensued and when I typed in do sharks live in the Gulf of Mexico, an AI generated response came up with this chart following it. I was surprised to see the Gulf of America referenced as the idea of the name change had gone silent after a couple weeks of President Trump being in office.

Did you know that on May 8 the House passed a bill to rename the Gulf of Mexico as the "Gulf of America?" President Trump signed the executive order for this change of name on his first day in office and Marjorie Taylor Greene introduced the bill in January. It instructs federal agencies to update all documents and maps to reflect the name change within six months of enactment. It passed in the House 211 to 206 and the bill will go to the Senate. Whether the Senate takes up the measure is unclear. Unlike the House, the bill would require support from a number of Democrats to move forward. 

Even if the name change is codified into U.S. law, other countries would be under no obligation to refer to the Gulf of Mexico by the new name. If it isn't codified, a future president could reverse this executive order. 

Maybe one of these years, I'll be telling my grandchildren, "When I was your age, my parents took my brothers, sister, and me to the beach during Easter vacation and we swam in the Gulf of Mexico." Will they ask, "What's Easter vacation?" or "Where's the Gulf of Mexico?" 

"Once upon a time..."

 

the times they are a-changin'

Our drive from Dayton to Chicago takes us from Eastern Time into Central Time. As we travel north, the giant I-65 wind turbines start at mile marker 184 in White County and end at mile marker 200 as we cross into Jasper County. This is also where the time changes from Eastern to Central and it's become a boredom buster for me to watch my phone go back an hour. 

On this stretch of the drive, my attention is typically focused on the wind turbines. They are fascinating, huge structures reaching toward the sky from the open flatlands of northwestern Indiana and I have taken so many photos of them.

A couple years ago as Todd and I were talking on the drive through the wind farm, I noticed a blue sign in the median marking the time change. How cool! Note to self...have the camera ready. Well, it's really hard to take a decent photo of a blue sign when you're going 75 mph or not in the correct lane to get that decent shot going 75 mph or that you just forget that you're going to take a photo and have to wait until the next time. This past trip everything came together to get a photo of the Central and Eastern Time Zone signs. Perfect timing!