These days it's harder and harder to find a good cup of old fashioned coffee shop coffee in Los Angeles. It's hard to believe there was a time when coffee wasn't served by Barista's at caffeine pusher chains into cardboard cups with sleeves to protect your hand from burning. I'm talking about the days before the fancy latte and Tall, Grande or Venti servings. Ordering a cup of coffee was just that -- a cup of coffee poured into a heavy duty restaurant-style cup set nicely on a doily lined saucer. What was best about the deal is you could usually get an entire breakfast for what the average cup goes for now. Sure, I may be holding onto the past with an over glorified sentiment but I can't help myself. The impersonal interactions I've encountered when getting my morning rush fix have left me feeling weak. I miss the days of Norms, Chips, Googie, Tiny Naylor's and the rest. I've got a problem with leaving an obligated tip for someone who does nothing more than hand my order to me over a counter cluttered with CDs, breath mints and an array of over priced brand products. I have no problem leaving a tip to someone who returns to my table now and then to freshen up my coffee and knows just how much to pour.
A year has passed since the board of directors initiated lockdown of Self Help Graphics & Art sent a shockwave through the East LA arts community. In that amount time a series of scandals have rocked the fragile multi-colored building with the magnitude of a 10 point quake on a finger shaking who's fault is it line.
The summer of 2005 will be remembered as one of unraveling a tangled web of deceit created over the years by a dirty handed game of giving and taking archival prints; of signing contracts and checks on the dotted line in invisible ink; of taking funds from artisan sales to pay bills and staff; of bad management and neglect by the governing board, the artists it served, the community and the politicians whose district the property falls under.
It was also a time of finding out who your friends really are; of learning who was always one inch away from shoving a dagger in your back; of realizing who merely wanted to ride your back; and of seeing who had your back all along. It was also a magical time when disappearing acts were performed by board members who snuck out from their seats while a $25,000.00 Strategic Plan scam was being implemented; when financial and incriminating documents vanished into an air of mystery behind locked doors with no one but the parlor ghosts to witness the tricky going ons. It was a time of mass hypnosis when a community was zombiefied by their loyalty to a nun named Sister Karen and the mission she created for which Self Help Graphics was to stand. But who was really fooled? You? Me? Yes, I sat on the board of directors for a brief period until I could no longer force myself to believe my being there had any relevance.
There's been a recent development on the part of an ex employee who came forth with some serious accusations of drug use on the site against the current Interim Director and Vice President of the board also included was a complaint of a lack of follow up to a sexual harassment complaint made to the board's current President. Is one year too soon for history to repeat itself? What lessons have been learned in this short amount of time? Who will dare come forward this time around to speak up and demand answers; to make noise and hold persons accountable for allowing the only Chicano art center in East LA to be locked into this vicious out of control cycle.
