More Abbey Court stress

Last night as I was walking the dog, I passed a confrontation between the complex manager, backed up by a security guard, and a family sitting out on the lawn in front of their apartment, who were leaders in the protests against the towing policy. Returning later, I saw that the cops had been called in. After the cops and the manager left, I walked over to find out what had happened. One of the women and I stood in the parking lot talking. The upshot is that the management is clamping down on a "no loitering" regulation written into people's leases. The manager's position is that residents need to stay inside their apartments while we're on the complex property; we can't hang out in the common areas—lawns, sidewalks, stairwells, parking lots, etc. Some residents allege that the manager has even said she doesn't want children playing outside.

I can vouch myself for the accuracy of this (except the allegations about not wanting children to play outside) because I've heard a tape-recording of the conversation between the family and the manager: each party was recording the conversation with the other's knowledge, which tells you something about the degree to which the relationship between management and residents has broken down. I've expressed my concerns about this new crackdown at AbbeyCourt.info. I can certainly understand why management would want to crackdown on noise and drinking outside. But as with the towing policy (which also had an understandable basis), it's being taken to a draconian, adversarial extreme. And it continues to reinforce the impression that the management wants to transform this complex into upscale condominiums, which means pressuring low-income people to leave—or at least to stay out of sight so they won't scare off more "desirable" renters.

Anyway, as the woman and I were talking, the manager saw us from the other end of the parking lot and sent two security guards to tell me (not the woman I was talking to, interestingly) that I was violating the "no loitering" rule and needed "to leave now." I had this immediate fight-or-flight response. One of the guards was the same one who demanded to know what media Hugo represented on the night of what's now being remembered as the "near riot" (though I wouldn't call it that) on July 24. He stood there looking at me, all smirky and swaggery and in love with his power. It was such blatant intimidation by the management. I'm still furious thinking about it—I've been stewing about it all day. It got me thinking about what it must be like to be someone who frequently encounters that kind of intimidation: a Palestinian under Israeli rule, for example, or even an African-American male here in the U.S.

I hate this situation. I hate how hostile it is, although I have no illusions about the way that I've helped contribute to an adversarial state of affairs. The liberal Christian idealist in me wonders, "What if I tried to talk to the manager? What if I tried to meet with the owner?" I suspect it's far too late for that, though. The situation was adversarial from the moment management started denying parking permits; and the fact that management has been unwilling to respond even to appeals from the town government indicates that we're dealing with intransigent people who are determined to do what they want, the rest of us be damned. What do you do with that? What's the Christlike response to that? Turn the other cheek? "Wo to you, whited sepulchres"? Drive the moneychangers from the temple? Pray for your enemies? Go silent to the cross?

Today I pushed for AbbeyCourt.info to add an appeal for residents to observe recently posted rules about what you can throw in the dumpsters. I thought it would be a way to mitigate the adversarial relationship a little, to acknowledge the ways management is trying to make the complex better and the need for resident responsibility, even as we continue to voice objections to heavy-handed, inhumane policies. At this point, it's the best I can think to do.