I live in East Nashville, which has quickly become one of the most gentrified areas of the city. There are houses that are being sold for close to $500,000 on the same block with Section 8 housing. The dichotomy of this extends beyond the property values to something more essential – food. A food desert is defined as any census tract that isn’t within half-mile to a mile of a full-service grocery store or supermarket and are serviced instead by convenience and corner stores.
In East Nashville, the closest grocery store to the low income housing is a natural food market with prices geared towards the upper and middle income families that have moved into the neighborhood. The closest chain supermarket is about two miles away and due to the nature of Nashville’s public transit, would take four buses for a return trip. That leaves two convenience stores that are at least six blocks in either direction and neither carries a selection of fresh vegetables or fruit.
The solution to the issue of food deserts is multifaceted and requires not just access to affordable, fresh fruit and vegetables but education on how to prepare quick and meals using these items.
There are a number of things I’m good at. Some of them are not meant to discussed in polite company. I’m also really good at my job but I can’t explain what makes me so good without violating some section of the terms of my employment. I think I’m a good writer but there are so many people in my immediate circle that are much better than I am so on to something else. That leaves one of my favorite activities – driving.
I can drive but so can a billion other people. The skills that I have that set me apart from the multitudes are as follows: I can drive a variety of different vehicle types, I have the uncanny ability to find the closest parking spot to wherever I’m headed to and I very rarely get lost. I learned to drive with a manual transmission on the left hand side of small, busy streets in Trinidad, since then I’ve driven a variety cars, buses and trucks. The first time I drove on a different side of the road was a in manual transmission Rover on the Autobahn as Porsches and Audis whizzed by. I’ve navigated streets barely wide enough for a single car in London, drove from Seattle to Nashville in 5 days, safely delivered 15 people in a van on ice covered roads in North Carolina and before the end of this year I will be doing laps on the famed Nürburgring.
My friends joke that finding parking spaces is my superpower. I can go to almost any mall and find parking about three spaces from where I need to be, the kryptonite to my superpower seems to be Opry Mills Mall. This superpower of mine seems to extend to any vehicle I’m in and to my wife to some extent, it comes in very handy during the holidays when you work retail. I guess with this particular set of skills I would make a good getaway driver.
short descriptive essay for my required freshman english course
My city
Port of Spain can’t be compared in size to cities like New York or London. It is the capital city of a small twin island republic nestled at the bottom of the Caribbean chain. Located on the leeward side of the island, it is a seaboard city, a safe harbor for cruise ships when hurricanes are prevalent. But Port of Spain is not your typical tourist spot.
The city itself is compressed in a four square mile area, that runs along a grid of streets named for former mayors, governors and in one case, a world class athlete. Port of Spain’s design aesthetic combines multiple centuries of architectural styles from centuries old stone churches to old Victorian houses with the detailed trellis work converted into offices to shiny glass and metal structures that reflect the ever present sunlight. To the north the city is bound by the Queen’s Park Savannah, billed as the world’s largest roundabout, a multi acre, multi-use, tree-lined, green space. To the east, the last of the city’s real residences; brick apartment blocks and wooden tenements dot the nestling hills. To the south and west are the sea and the port for which the city is named, bustling with cranes moving containers full of goods and inter-island and local ferries.
This is a practical city, there are schools on almost every street in Port of Spain and every weekday from September through June there are thousands of uniformed children from kindergarten to high school making their way to and from their places of learning. This is also the capital city and a place of power, this is where parliament meets and the nation’s highest courts are located. It is also home to the main public library, the treasury and all of the country’s daily newspapers and quite of a few of the radio and television stations.
For two days a year the city shuts down. That’s not entirely true, for two days a year, the stores and the schools and the offices are closed, but the city is anything but closed. On Carnival Monday and Tuesday the city is transformed into a sea of costumed revelers. Clad in creations as simple as mud, paint and oil to iridescent feathered raiments that appear to defy gravity. Thousands upon thousands of every ethnic description, dance in the streets, following with gleeful abandon the sounds of live or recorded music from trailers jam packed with speakers.
This is a not a perfect city, poor drainage and careless waste disposal make flooding a constant occurrence during heavy rainfall. Poor planning has more cars than available spaces; combine this with predatory towing practices and parking in the city is nightmare. Like any major city there are problems with crime and indigents. The haste to build the new and shiny has outpaced the need to preserve and maintain causing the city lose bits of character.
