My condom-pushing school district makes me so proud, I could burst!

I'm sure you've heard: High-schoolers in Milwaukee Public Schools — my daughter and her classmates — will be able to get free condoms from their school nurses beginning next school year.

My reaction? YES!!!

I'm celebrating a bold move: According to the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, only 4.5 percent of high schools in the country make condoms available to students. That means MPS is taking a leap.

I'm not going to get into the details of the Board of Education's decision, which was reported in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel article, MPS approves condom giveaways. You can read about the technicalities on news sites.

Instead, I'm going to speak for those girls who, like me, got pregnant before they grew up.

Girls like Jane (whose name has been changed to protect her identity), a young family friend who became a mom before she could become her own person.

No regrets, believe it or not

A lot of people believe teenage parenthood automatically leads to a life of doom and gloom.

Not me.

In my case, becoming a parent at 18 — thankfully, after I graduated high school — was a great experience. But I'll be frank: I was fortunate.

I was fortunate because my baby daddy wanted to be a full-time father, husband and bread winner, at the ripe old age of 19.

I was fortunate because our 'rents wanted to be supportive grandparents, giving their time, energy, advice and money to the cause.

I was fortunate because I had enough scholarships, grants and loans to afford college tuition and on-campus married housing. (Thanks to growing up poor and being a geeky studious chick in high school, I was flush with student aid.)

I was fortunate because I was healthy, physically, emotionally and mentally. And so was my child.

I was fortunate, in other words, because I had all the resources a parent of any age needs: a partner parent, relief pitchers (the 'rents), a steady income, good health, and opportunity.

Take any of those resources away, and the job gets exponentially harder. Take them all away, and it becomes nearly impossible. Just ask Jane.

Mom and baby are holding on

Jane's baby daddy isn't in the picture. We can ponder the reasons why and debate ways to make him step up ... but, in the meantime, Jane's baby doesn't have a dad. And Jane doesn't have a partner. That's reality.

Jane doesn't know her own father and mother. Again, we can ponder the reasons why and debate ways to make them step up ... but, in the meantime, Jane's baby doesn't have grandparents. And Jane doesn't have relief pitchers. That's reality.

Jane lost her scholarship to college because school proved too much for her. We can debate ways to make her step up ... but, in the meantime, Jane had to go to work instead of college. That's reality.

Jane suffers from an affective disorder that requires medication, which she had to stop taking while pregnant and nursing. That's cold, hard reality.

We're a dime a dozen — but worth more

Between me and Jane, in the spectrum of experiences that are better and worse than ours, you'll find countless teenage mothers in Milwaukee.

You've undoubtedly heard that Milwaukee is among the 10 worst cities the nation in terms of teenage pregnancy rates and sexual disease transmission, although in 2008 the city recorded its lowest teen pregnancy rate in 30 years.

According to a fact sheet circulated by MPS during the discussion about condom distribution, the "2007 Youth Risk Behavior Survey (YRBS) showed that 25% of MPS high school students have had four or more partners, and 42% have had sexual intercourse with one or more people in the last three months. Additionally, 39% did NOT use a condom during their last sexual encounter."

This survey indicates nearly half our high-schoolers are having sex. And nearly half of those sexually active teens aren't using condoms. An understatement: Wow!

We can ponder the reasons why and debate ways to make them step up ... but, in the meantime, they are having children. That's reality.

Normally, this would be the point where I'd try to provide an explanation. After all, that's what we journalists do: We hunt for the "why."

I couldn't tell you why I didn't use a condom back in the day. I was a different person back then. I was a child. I suppose it was just too much: It would have required advanced planning, cash, patience and a firm grasp on reality ... all of which are in short supply among teens.

But today I'm not interested in the why. Today I'm interested in "how" — as in, how do we stop babies from having babies?

Handing condoms to teenagers won't solve the problem. We all know that. It does seem to help, however, if you believe a study published in the American Journal of Public Health, Condom Availability Programs in Massachusetts High Schools.

Says the study: "Condom availability was not associated with greater sexual activity among adolescents but was associated with greater condom use among those who were already sexually active, a highly positive result."

In my opinion, if handing out condoms here in Milwaukee helps just one girl grow up before she gets pregnant, we've achieved our own highly positive result.

Capitol Court may be dead, but malls live in Milwaukee

I have a holiday confession to make: I don't celebrate Black Friday.

My refusal to take part in Black Friday (which is the Friday after Thanksgiving, the biggest shopping day of the year, for those who don't know) could be a result of my mall phobia.

I think it's fair to say I loathe shopping malls. Trying to maneuver a massive, overflowing parking lot gives me a headache. Crowds of rude shoppers — you know, the ones who cut you off in the aisles, snatch items from your reach, or run over your feet with baby strollers — make my blood boil. And, frankly, mall prices leave me cold.

Except to attend the occasional movie, I haven't been to the queen of shopping malls, Mayfair Mall in Wauwatosa, in ... oh, I guess it's been years.

This mall phobia I have is undoubtedly the result of growing up in the country, where shopping was a necessity, not a contact sport. I lack the skills to succeed, I readily admit.

However, I refuse to let a phobia run my life, so I have found a few malls I can stomach — at least on an average Tuesday. Two of them are in the city of Milwaukee, and I thought I'd let you know why they don't scare me like the others ... in case, like me, any of you are mall phobes :)

Frankly, they are not like other malls in metro Milwaukee ... which can be a bonus for anyone looking to change up the holiday routine. The fashions, for example, are decidedly urban, which works for me and mine.

Midtown Center takes over Capitol Court

I never had the (dis)pleasure of shopping at Capitol Court. It was long gone by the time I moved to Wisconsin almost 15 years ago. Yet, people still bring up Capitol Court when talking about malls in Milwaukee ...

Apparently, it left quite an impression. (Yes, I've been told both the positive and negative reasons, but let's not dwell.)

Today, the Midtown Center stands in its place at Capitol Drive and 56th Street.


Midtown is an open-air center, which means it's not enclosed like Mayfair or Southridge malls. (As with outlet malls, all the stores have doors facing parking lots.) I usually like the open-air concept: When I want a specific store, I can (a) easily find it from the comfort of my car, and (b) get in and out of that store quickly. Of course, when it's raining or freezing cold, I'm not such a big fan.

Midtown is also an "affordable" mall. It's anchors are not major department stores; in fact, its anchors are the popular, numerous Wal-Mart,* Pick 'n' Save, and AJ Wright.

I checked the Midtown Center's Web site for accuracy; all 35 tenants listed (with Web sites, if available) are indeed still open — including a Milwaukee Police Department substation, for those who worry about crime at the mall.

Some highlights: Teenage girls and young women, like my daughters, love the fact that discount clothing retailers Rainbow, DOTS, Fashion Bug, Simply Fashion, and Best Price! are together within walking distance.

Stores not listed as tenants but located nearby include Lena's Food Market, City Trends, U.S. Cellular, Playmakers, Manna House, McDonald's, and rare-in-the-city Taco Bell.

Unfortunately, Lowe's home improvement store came and went already.

The mall suits me well because I can spot and avoid crowds before getting out of my car. Parking can be a bit challenging during busy times, like after school lets out, but there are enough out lots to provide overflow space. (I recommend approaching the mall from 60th Street, which is the least busy of the five bordering streets.) And the stores are both practical and affordable.

*Side note: I know that Wal-Mart is a lightning rod among consumers, who love, hate, or love/hate the retail giant. The first time one opened where I lived, I refused to shop there, based solely on the fact that the corporation censors the musicians it agrees to market. However, when the first Wal-Mart opened in the city of Milwaukee, I decided to give the retailer a chance. After all, it was the only big-box, discount retailer willing to build multiple stores within our city limits, despite the crime statistics. Plus, I needed a place to buy inexpensive undergarments :)

The Shops of Grand Avenue will not die

Enter the east end of The Shops of Grand Avenue, housed inside historic downtown buildings on Wisconsin Avenue just west of the Milwaukee River, and you get a glimpse of the former Grand Avenue Mall's struggles: Empty store fronts outnumber full ones.

However, if you move west through the mall, the shopping improves. "It's the best place for shoe shopping," claims shoe-aholic daughter Cherish. Plus, "it has the best food court of all the malls," daughter Angel notes, adding that she and boyfriend "come here just to eat all the time."

Grand Avenue is anchored by a department store, Boston Store, in the mall's west-end building. Not officially considered part of the mall, Borders Bookstore is located in a separate east-end building on the river.

Myriad stores are found between these two "anchors," with all the buildings connected by skywalks. A few of the stores open to the street, like Office Max and Walgreen's.

Again, I checked the online list of 73 tenants, and all the retailers are open. (I didn't check the restaurants specifically, however.)

Highlights: Brew City Beer Gear; Planet TV, featuring all things sold on TV; Torrence's House of Threads and Danielle's, both featuring distinctive evening wear; hard-to-find-these-days photo booths; Peddler Jim’s Produce, with to-die-for berries; and the food court, which is conveniently separated from the stores in that it occupies the entire third floor of a building by itself.

Apparently, guys and gals love the shoe selections of Famous Footwear, FootAction USA, and all three Foot Locker stores: Kids, Lady and regular.

Also popular are sportswear store Fan Fair and hat and cap retailer Lids.

And, of course, the holidays mean a visit from the Leonard Bearstein Symphony Orchestra, with a castle backdrop. Children of all ages love the animated bears, who perform holiday classics.

Gone, unfortunately, are recent tenants Linens 'n' Things and Old Navy.

The buildings that house the mall also house a YMCA, Marriott Courtyard and Residence Inn hotels, and the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee School of Continuing Education, which means steady foot traffic and added security.

The mall suits me well because, well, it's rarely crowded (*sigh*). You must pay for parking, although it's a mere $1 per hour with store validation. (I usually park at a meter on Milwaukee Avenue for convenience, but I'm in and out quickly.) And many of the stores are unique to Grand Avenue, which makes the trip worthwhile.

Watch out for that weirdo; he just might help you out

A few years ago, I saw one gang member shoot another in broad daylight, at nearly point-blank range.

It's one of my favorite summertime memories.

We — the husband, three daughters and I — were attempting to cruise north on Lincoln Memorial Drive, near Bradford Beach. I say "attempting" because the Lake Michigan boulevard resembled a parking lot: All four lanes of the roadway were jam packed with folks attempting to cruise by the beach on this smoldering hot, humid day. We crawled to a dead stop so often that the hubby put the car in park every few feet, waiting for the cars ahead of us to inch forward.

Typically, such heavy stop-and-go traffic would annoy the hubby. He's a go-and-go sort of guy. But the city was entertaining on this particular day — everywhere were classic cars, convertibles, expensive SUVs, hot rods, motorcycles and, of course, swimsuit-clad hard bodies.

One pimped-out ride, a Cadillac convertible, caught my eye as we approached it, parked on my side of the road. I'll be honest: It caught my eye because it was totally stereotypical. The metallic paint job was accented by flashy rims and a leather interior — very nice. Exactly what you would expect a pimp or drug dealer in a Hollywood movie to drive.

And seated inside the car were — no surprise, if you believe the stereotype — four black teenage boys. Four black teenage boys sporting gang colors.

In the interest of full disclosure, I can't remember exactly how the teens were dressed. I do remember at least one red baseball cap, cocked atop its owner's head ... but little else. After living in Milwaukee a while, though, I can assure you it's easy to spot gang members when they're dressed the part; it's a certain look you just know. As the four piled out of the car, I just knew.

While I watched, the boy in the red cap jumped from the passenger seat and turned toward the driver of the car. He held a really big gun that he quickly pointed at the driver, and then — in broad daylight, in the midst of a crowd of people — he pulled the trigger. And he hit his target.

The driver was suddenly soaking wet ... drenched in water from his buddy's squirt gun.

Boys will be boys

Again in the interest of full disclosure, I knew I wasn't witnessing an actual shooting. The hubby and I weren't the least bit nervous watching those boys exit their car.

You see, after being parents for more than a decade and a half, my husband and I could spot happy teenagers a mile away.

Happy teenagers are rarely spotted by adults, any parent of a teenager will tell you. They tend to run in packs, away from their parents and other authority figures. And it's not always obvious from facial expressions when you do spot happy teens, but we parents just know.

And, on this day at the lake, we just knew we were catching a rare glimpse of four happy teenagers at play outside.

The sight was made that much more special — touching, in fact — because we saw four gangbangers defy the stereotype. They reminded us that, whatever their sins, they were still children.

For the afternoon, at least, they were simply boys being boys.

Random acts of humanity

I live for moments like that water-gun fight — moments when people pleasantly surprise others by defying stereotypes, betraying their looks, going the extra mile, turning the other cheek, being the bigger person.

A few more of such moments ...

Dinner and dancing: Last night, we picked up dinner at Speed Queen BBQ. Located at 1130 W Walnut St., it's considered the city's best by many barbecue lovers. The neighborhood is rough, however, and patrons regularly get hit up by the homeless. (This isn't a problem for us; I'm just establishing the setting.)

As we were driving away, my husband told me to look in the side mirror. I did so, and I got to watch a grown man dance his way across the street behind us on roller skates. The show was impressive, and we didn't pay a dime.

Spidey nonsense: We were downtown late one Friday night, stopped in our car at a traffic light, when — out of the blue — Spiderman crossed the street in the crosswalk in front of us. When he got to the sidewalk, he ungracefully tumbled to the ground, then quickly bounced to his feet and looked around to see if anyone noticed. Hmmm ...

No, it wasn't Halloween; it was the middle of December, and sidewalk ice kicked Spidey's butt. Spiderman, we guessed, was on his way to the Ladybug Club, 618 North Water St. (hiding in the building with the huge ladybugs adorning the facade), a dance club offering theme nights that opens its doors to those younger than 21 once a week. Not a bad idea; Spidey apparently needed help with his footwork.

Hometown hero: No, I'm not referring to Spiderman. One of my hometown heroes is a Walgreen's security guard working at the store at North Avenue and Martin Luther King Drive (which has since been moved a few blocks south).

The guard saw me withdrawing cash from the ATM inside the store one afternoon. I finished my business — I thought — and was leaving when he stopped me to tell me that I should wait a few minutes. Apparently, that ATM took just shy of forever to ask "Do you want to complete another transaction?" Had I left, someone could have accessed my bank account because I was still logged in.

He knew it had happened to other customers, so he was keeping an eye on the machine. Not his job, but ...

Chivalry isn't dead: Stopped at a ridiculously long red light at the intersection of Wisconsin Avenue and 27th Street one day, I found myself staring at the folks at the bus stop for entertainment.

A tiny, frail, elderly woman with a walking cane and huge handbag approached the packed bus shelter. An ornery-looking teenage boy — think Ice Cube in, well, any of his movies — saw her coming and, without her saying a word, vacated his seat on the bench and helped her sit down. She was all smiles. So was I :)

Brotherly love: I was filling my car with gas one morning when I realized I was surrounded by a crew of taxi cab drivers getting their cars ready for their shifts. One of those drivers locked his keys in his cab while pumping gas — not a good start to his day.

The driver, obviously Middle Eastern, asked a fellow driver, a black man he clearly didn't know well, to open his door in broken English: "Brother, please help a brother out!" (I wasn't aware of this, but apparently more than one driver has the key for each cab ... or maybe there's a master key?)

Observers naturally laughed; his rescuer did not, choosing instead to unlock the door and reassure the cabbie that it happens to everyone. Brother to brother.

If folks keep it up, I'm going to be tempted to believe that we all can just get along =)

Today I sat beside Fear — and I don't much like him

I attended my first-ever unemployment workshop today, and I sat next to someone I remember from a past life: Fear.

I'd nearly forgotten how ugly he is.

Surrounded by a dozen people whose lives have ground to a halt because their jobs have disappeared, I couldn't help but feel incredibly, overwhelmingly fortunate. I may be jobless, collecting Unemployment Insurance benefits for the first time at the age of 38, but Fear doesn't shadow me like he does others.

My children are healthy, and the two who are adults are almost self-sufficient.

I still have health insurance, thanks to my ambitious and always-employed hubby.

I have a house and mortgage insurance that I'm in no danger of losing.

I have — at home — computers and access to the Internet.

I have a car and a valid driver's license.

Even if I wind up eventually losing some of the creature comforts I enjoy, I'll still be able to work a computer.

And I can read and write.

In other words, I'm spoiled.

Yes, it's time to thank the hubby

I know Fear personally — I recognize him by sight and sound, in the faces and voices of those around me — but these days I don't spend much time with him.

Once upon a time, the hubby and I lived paycheck to paycheck, utterly dependent on his jobs in the troubled manufacturing industry while I attended Michigan State University and got my career as a journalist off the ground.

Fear was always by my side, guiding my decisions.

I remember floating checks at the grocery store to buy food and baby diapers.

The children had peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches for dinner more times than I care to remember. The hubby ate ramen noodles for dinner more times than he cares to remember. (We were too proud to sign up for food stamps, although I did take part in the Women, Infants and Children - or WIC - program, which aims to ensure new moms and young children get enough to eat. That formula allowance was a godsend!)

Some months we paid the electric bill; other months we made the car payment. Rent always came first, of course, although it was often paid late. MSU was a good landlord, however, and gave us little grief.

I got to be pretty darn good at juggling the bills, staying just ahead of the shut-offs ... usually. The car was repossessed once; the electric turned off at least twice — maybe three times?

My first two children were born on Medicaid because the hubby wasn't offered insurance through his employer, which hired and kept him on as a temp for years.

I agonized over school shopping. There was never enough money — I remember the requirement of gym shoes, to be worn only in the gym, nearly gave me a stroke.

My children and I got all our clothes at thrift stores — props to Goodwill and, here in Milwaukee, Value Village. We still shop at both, although the girls started buying new clothes once they hit high school and earned their own money.

For the first five years we were married, I never developed a roll of film. I saved up the exposed rolls, taken with a camera given to me as a gift, until I got my first job and started helping out the hubby.

Speaking of that hubby: He never faltered. He worked hard — literally working his way up with muscle, sweat, elbow grease and smarts — and eventually made his way into a different field. He's now in information systems, and he has a relatively secure job.

As a result, Fear no longer shadows me.

The unlucky many

But today I was reminded how lucky I am.

Gloria Mitchell with Job Services at the Job Center of Wisconsin Northeast, who ran today's workshop, didn't pull any punches with us.

"In the 44 years I've worked for the state, I have never seen a job market this bad," she told us, adding that "there's no such thing as a secure job anymore," not even in government.

(Yes, Gloria knew Fear was in the room with us. She also knows she is among the fortunate few who needn't pay him any mind.)

The good news is, in other words, that we unemployed folks aren't alone. In fact, we're in pretty good company — and the party is damn crowded.

The bad news is, well, Fear is a roommate for many of us.

And that's why I'm recommending a stop at a local Job Center for anyone who doesn't have a job right now.

The centers, first and foremost, offer free computers, Internet access, fax and copy services, and phones to folks who can't afford such luxuries at home. Yes, I said free. And, of course, they provide job listings and help folks put together resumes and/or fill out applications so they can apply for said jobs.

They can also hook you up with the right people if you need additional help — say, with food stamps (or the Quest card, nowadays); energy bill assistance; basic job skill training; and so on.

Don't be too proud: The centers were created to help us. We pay for them with our tax dollars when we're employed; we're entitled to use them when we're not.

And they are invaluable, really, if you're trying to outrun Fear.

Fame comes with a price, Lake Michigan fans learn

I am mourning Bradford Beach.

No, they didn't close the (in)famous Lake Michigan beach on the East Side of Milwaukee. They "reinvented" it, in the words of people who revitalize dying parks.

See, two summers ago, Bradford Beach was languishing. Several factors contributed to her poor health: invasive lake species led to excessive algae and seaweed growth, which in turn made the water stink on hot days; county budget cuts meant no lifeguards and reduced grooming at the park, which compounded the invasive species problem; and criminals, some with guns, made it a frightening place for many.

This summer, after a summer of rebirth last year sparked by private donations, the beach is flourishing. Drive by any day of the week and you will find at least half the beach — the southern half, by the parking lots — packed full of sun-loving folks.



The dozen or so volleyball nets are in constant use. Sunbathers litter the sand with their towels and blankets.

Vendors hawk their sunglasses, hot dogs and other goods along the road. The concession stand in the parking lot — closed the first eight years we lived on the East Side — is open again, serving long lines of customers.

And, of course, the water is dotted with swimmers, sailboats and windsurfers.

Heck, you don't have to drive by to check it out; there is now a Bradford Beach lakefront video camera feed at LakefrontCam.com.

The Milwaukee County Sheriff’s Office stepped up patrols along Lincoln Memorial Drive — which is great news to some, nerve-wracking to others — and strictly enforced park hours, closing the gates to the parking lots at 10 every night.

Deputies even manned nearby mobile command units (trailers that serve as mobile command posts) parked in the boulevard median at times when crowds surged, such as Memorial Day weekend.

Yeah, the beach has come into its own this year. And I'm in mourning.

Out with the old

The Bradford Beach I knew when I first moved to Milwaukee was a quiet beach. It didn't matter what time of the day or day of the week you visited, you could always find a place to (a) park and (b) spread out your blanket.

It seemed, to my daughters and me, that it was our own "well-kept secret."

Of course, we usually had to swim at our own risk. And put up with a few weeds breaking through the sand. And litter under foot, including broken beer bottles. And that smell.

But we had a Great Lakes beach all to ourselves, we die-hard Lake Michigan fans.

For the most part, I believe, we visitors to the "old" Bradford Beach were city of Milwaukee residents — and, I'd be willing to bet, many of us had no air conditioning at home to give us relief from summertime heat :)

Trust me on this point.

When it's 95 degrees with 70 percent humidity and you live in a second-floor flat without a/c, you'll find a few weeds, a bit of litter, and some nasty smells aren't going to stop you from seeking out the cool of the lakefront.

Even sewage dumps at the treatment plant couldn't keep us away — from the sand, at least.

Crowds, however ...

In with the new

I'm sorry to say I didn't spend any time at the beach this summer. You see, I got a puppy I take everywhere with me, and I couldn't risk walking my puppy at a crowded beach. (Dogs aren't allowed on the beach, by county ordinance, but there is a popular bike/walking trail alongside the beach.)

I really wanted to check out the Bartolotta Restaurant Group's Northpoint concession stand. The lines for its burgers and custard made me think it would be worth a try.

But the thought of my dessert-loving puppy — a German shepherd who weighed 65 pounds at six months — among throngs of custard-bearing beach-goers stopped me.

(I also get a bit paranoid when surrounded by cops. I realize their presence means increased safety, but it makes me feel like I'm under surveillance ... especially when I'm misbehaving ... like maybe letting my puppy wander onto a prohibited beach :))

Instead, my daughters and I waited patiently for autumn to bring cool temperatures, which we knew would drive away some of the crowds. Then we introduced our puppy to Bradford Beach, on a day when only a handful of die-hard Lake Michigan fans braved the chilly lake breeze.

It was totally worth the wait — turned out, it was just like old times ... :)

Note: I started this post in summer but updated it in winter.