GRAND ROUNDS @ GRAND PARK

6/17/14

Dear Elana & Camilo

I wanted to write something to help you document the impact “Grand Rounds” had on my life as a working-class denizen of Los Angeles; at the same time, I wanted to create a response to your project that labored against the projected impermanence of your project. While the objective of your project was certainly not to record the “proceedings,” I thought I might write something that recorded the proceedings as my closed-circuit televisions system interpreted them. This letter are those thoughts; or more importantly, the letters of this letter comprise that letter which is itself a cipher for something larger than what it refers to (and cue the etcetera barges, etc.).

First off, I need for you to know that it was a pain in the ass to get to “Grand Rounds," an informal discussion (and free, brown-bag lunch) at Grand Park in downtown Los Angeles (courtesy of Elana Mann and Camilo Cruz) because I had to take the Long Beach line in to Hope and 7^th Avenue. At the same time, the fact that I was able to get to Grand Park through Los Angeles Metro should be noted as a civic victory, wouldn’t you agree? I especially think this in a city where car manufacturers and highway developers colluded so egregiously to eradicate public transportation. In addition, I walked to Grand Park from the terminus of the Expo Line (again, Hope and 7^th), which gave me a good ten minutes of flâneuring. And, it was a super-nice day; I half expected there was going to be an earthquake because the day was so super-freakishly nice. But, as a pain-in-the-ass east-coaster, half of my operating directive (charm) is to refuse the impulse to own a car; the other half is spent complaining about the public transportation I do utilize. You and I both know we need me to tell everyone why they’re doing it wrong.

I accepted Camilo’s invite because I was interested in the admixture of city, county, and non-profit overlords that were scheduled to participate in “Grand Rounds" on that particular day. I figured at the very worst, it was going to be like a super-awkward interview, and at the very best it was going to be like talking to the supervisors of all the agents and telephone associates that put me on hold for inordinate amounts of time. However, once the free lunches started getting passed around, people let down their guards and opened up a little. I enjoyed participating in “Grand Rounds," because I felt like the ship I run as an English teacher in the L.A. County Jail is the same ship being steered in other public-service sectors of Los Angeles city and county cliques. As a patient of psychotherapy, I’ve learned the aim of talking to a psychologist is to get yourself to enunciate your ailment, and declare your prowess for change; in much the same way, “Grand Rounds," allowed me to talk to people (people just like me) who do too much with too little; and, we got to enunciate our ailments, diagnose our better practices, and share an authentic brown-bag lunch at high noon in Grand Park.

Thank You Immensely!

Yago S. Cura