Have you been following the 3 day+ rager on the listserv about supposed plans for George Mason Elementary school?
For those of you that just read this blog for comedic value and can’t be bothered with your idiotic neighbors’ rants, there was a PowerPoint deck that went out from ACPS to parents at the school outlining how they plan to rebuild the aging building. Only, an earlier draft had a mention of the space’s potential for housing, and someone read it and freaked the hell out thinking there was a land grab. The final draft that’s online has no mention of the school being used for housing, but hahahaha who can be bothered to read, and why do facts matter?
In no particular order, the BH listserv worked themselves into a froth about:
- Class warfare
- Why people of more modest means would want to live among seven-figure dwellings (Jesus f’ing Christ, people!)
- The difference between affordable housing and low-income housing
- The Mayor’s developer mafia
- Number and types of cars in BH
- The annual salaries of firefighters
- What constitutes an ACPS employee versus a contractor
- Will my home value go down if everyone near me isn’t rich
- The number of square feet a single mom and 2 kids need
- Zoning rules (and wouldn’t these people be better in Del Ray?!)
Honest to god though, I had to pick my jaw off the floor, when I read THIS gem from the lovely Jennifer M.:
What’s perplexing to me is how anyone can think that folks living in affordable housing want to live in a neighborhood with $1M+ homes. You think that’s going to make them feel better about themselves? Taking the bus while a neighbor is driving a Mercedes is going to perk them up? Think they are going to feel like they belong to the local community?? Come on – who would want that?
Seriously, JFC. I hope everyone throws their dog poop bags in your city trash can, Jennifer.
Anyway, I’ve been sitting back writing and rewriting a possible blog post for the past several days, and then I see that my fans have spoken (Thanks, Tom E.! I’ll bring by a halal chicken to reward you for the plug!).
Wait, so this was all one big misunderstanding? Oh boy…can’t wait to see what Tales from the BH Listserv is going to say about this!!!!
It’s time for Bev to chime in.
May I present to you a one-act play I’ve written, entitled “The George Mason Commons”:
The sun is rising and people across Beverley Hills are getting ready to go to work.
A brown-skinned person walks out of the old George Mason Elementary school, recently renamed “The George Mason Commons” because affordable housing brought a wave of commoners into the neighborhood.
She waves at the recycling truck crew as they drive by. After all, they all live in the building. “Damn,” she thinks, “this Beverley Hills neighborhood might not be everything I dreamed it would be. They don’t even have curbside glass recycling here. What have I gotten myself into?!”
She tries to put it out of her mind, only to look up and see one of those fancy-pants single-family-home dwellers drive by in a Mercedes. Sigh. Clearly, she is unable to see a nice car and not hate on herself.
“I’ll show those snobs,” she thinks, walking past the bus stop of lowlife scum waiting for transport to the Pentagon, DC law firms, and other low-class jobs.
Finding a pile of abandoned scooters in a heap across the sidewalk, she heads off, helmetless, toward her job at the newly opened halal butcher shop.
Of course, the fastest option is to zip her scooter down Seminary Road. Ever since the road diet (high five, Mayor Wilson!), she can get to work before the angry picketing crowds show up and ruin her mood. Speaking of mood, she’s having such a fun, fast ride that she waves to all the cars waiting. A few of the drivers see her and honk. “Wait, are those middle fingers?” she wonders. “No, they couldn’t be. Not here. I’m pretty sure those drivers are just telling me I’m #1 based on my eco-friendly commute!”
The scooter breaks down about a block away from work when she jumps it over one of the ridiculously high speedbumps recently installed. “Hmm,” she thinks, “maybe some of Mayor Wilson’s developer cronies put these here.” Angered, she flings the scooter in the road, because scooter riders do what they want.
Her workday at the butcher is pretty quiet and uneventful, except for all the dogs outside howling because the blood makes them crazy. She ignores the sound, and when she eventually gets bored, her mind wanders. “Man, I’m so lucky to have scored that affordable housing in the middle of Beverley Hills. To think it was all because a sneaky ACPS ‘contractor’ stuck that slide in a PowerPoint deck a few years ago and set it all in motion. Surely, this is the only way a person of color like me could ever gain entrance to such a utopia. I don’t even have a European car.”
With her shift done and unable to find a scooter, she hops on the bus (ew, gross!) and makes her way back to the four-story George Mason Commons building she now calls home.
Walking up to the building, she narrowly avoids stepping in a fresh pile of dog poo that someone neglected to pick up. “What a jerk!” she says. “Dog poo belongs in people’s city-provided trash cans!” At last, the brown-skinned woman climbs the stairs to her apartment. First floor, firefighters. Second floor, trash truck folks. Third floor, sketchy potential child molesters. And finally, fourth floor, the poors.
Home sweet home. As she walks in the door, she can’t help but sing the words to the Weezer song, “Beverly Hills”:
Where I come from isn’t all that great
My automobile is a piece of crap
My fashion sense is a little whack
And my friends are just as screwy as me
That’s where I want to be!
Gimme gimme gimme gimme!
Living in Beverly Hills!
PS. How has our opinionated “Donna” not chimed in on this thread after 3 days?? Has anyone checked in on her? Does she have cats? They get so hungry…