As I was walking my dog around Ypsilanti’s 38-acres of depressingly-barren downtown real estate known as Water Street yesterday morning, it occurred to me that it might be fun to pick a day sometime soon and encourage everyone in Ypsilanti to come out and plant sunflower seeds together. And, in a fit of inspiration, I took out my phone, snapped a photo, and sent the following image out to my friends.
Well, the response has been good… So good, in fact, that I’m thinking that I might actually try to coordinate something.
Before we get into the specifics, though, I should probably mention that planting sunflowers on Water Street isn’t a new idea. I think I brought the idea up here on the site several years ago, after reading that sunflowers are known to pull contaminants from soil. As you may recall, I brought the idea up, only to be told that DIY bio-remediation doesn’t really work… I asked my friend Murph to recap the argument, as he’s the one who made it, and here’s what he had to say.
Sunflowers and other phyto generally don’t destroy soil contaminants – they just accumulate them from the soil into the plant matter, which then requires harvesting and disposal as toxic waste. Otherwise, if the plants are left to die and decompose on site, they may make contaminants MORE hazardous, by bringing them up to the surface and increasing the chance of human exposure.
Fortunately, though, a lot has changed over the past few years, since the subject was first broached… Most notably, we’ve been able, thanks to our planning department, to secure the funds necessary to conduct significant remediation activities on the parcel, which had been seriously compromised thanks to decades of industrial dumping. (There are still a few areas that are somewhat contaminated, but they could easily be avoided.) So, having to dispose of toxic plant matter shouldn’t be a problem. And, for what it’s worth, guerilla remediation wasn’t my intention to begin with… I just thought that it would be nice if the thousands of people who drove through Ypsilanti each day, as they made their way down Michigan Avenue, weren’t left with the impression that our community is built around an ugly, desolate wasteland.
And, again, this isn’t anything new, really. I’m sure that I’ve talked with folks about seed bombing Water Street a dozen times over the past ten years. It had never occurred to me until I stood there yesterday, though, that it didn’t have to just be two or three of us scattering a few handfuls of seeds. “What if,” I thought, “we set a time and got one hundred people to commit?” “What if we turned it into a neighborhood party?” And, that’s kind of what I’m thinking now. I’m thinking that we may have a real opportunity not only to bring the space to live visually, but to activate the parcel as a public space. And how better to celebrate the coming of spring than by meeting friends and neighbors outdoors and planting flowers on the commons?
Of course, there are a number of things that would need to be worked out first. Here are my notes on a few of them.
FLOWER TYPE: I’d originally suggested sunflowers, as I think that they’re incredibly beautiful, and feel as though a field of them, all swaying together in the breeze, would make people overwhelmingly happy (at least until they began to rot). My friend Murph, however, feels as though we might want to consider wildflowers instead, as he suspects that some folks might actually complain about sunflowers, due to their height, and demand that they be mowed down by the City. And, of course, I suspect that certain breeds of native flowers would do better in that environment than others. (I’m making a note to call my friend Lisa Waud at Pot & Box, and ask what she’d recommend.)
DEPLOYMENT: I’d originally thought that it would be best to just make holes, drop in seeds, pray for rain, and be done with it. Now, though, I’m thinking that it might be more fun, and more effective, to make seed bombs (clay/compost/seeds), which could either be carefully placed around the property, or launched from afar. (A quick tutorial on making seed bombs can be found here.) I especially like the idea of making seed bombs, as it would allow us to coordinate bomb-making parties across the City in advance of the big event. And, perhaps more importantly, I just think it could be a hell of a lot of fun deploying them. (Maybe it would be too much of a hassle, but I’m imaging lots of slingshots and trebuchets.)
TIMING: Again, I’ll defer to those of you who know more about flowers than I do, but my sense is that we’d want to do this by mid-April.
Will it help us attract a developer to Water Street? Probably not. But I think it could be a good community-bulding opportunity. And, in my opinion, anything that breathes a little life into that piece of land is a good thing… So, if you’re interested in participating, or have thoughts on the specifics, please leave a comment.
[note: Also of interest, folks will be gathering on Water Street on April 19 and 20 to plant 500 trees as part of the Ypsi Tree Farm initiative I told you about last April.]
I don’t know how to break this to you, so I’ll just come right out and say it… It looks as though beloved local pop idol Charlie Slick will soon be joining the ranks of those leaving our community. Following is his official exit interview.
MARK: I’m thinking of requiring everyone who wants to leave to first get 100 signatures. Do you feel as though you could get that many people to sign a petition on your behalf, allowing you to leave?
CHARLES: That’s a weird petition… you should be collecting signatures to convince people to stay. And, no, I don’t think that I could collect 100 signatures.
MARK: I was just wondering if you could find 100 people willing to let you go. I mean, on one hand, I know that people want folks that they love to be happy, but there’s also a certain selfishness. We don’t like change. We don’t like our friends moving away from us.
CHARLES: I believe someone wrote a song about that. What’s it called? “Allan“? Oh yeah, I wrote it… Allan told me that moving away is great because then everyone parties when you come back around. Wouldn’t that be nice? [See video of “Allan” being performed below.]
MARK: Where is it that you want to go, and why?
CHARLES: Portland, Oregon. Kate got into Portland State and I’m going to pursue Electrical Engineering via Electrical Engineering Technology at Portland Community College.
MARK: What will Kate be studying? And what made led her to apply at Portland State?
CHARLES: She will be studying urban planning. She applied there and Seattle. She got into both. I favored Portland because I’ve already spent time in the Puget Sound and I’d like to try somewhere else.
MARK: Have you ever lived outside of Michigan?
CHARLES: I was born and raised in Oak Harbor, Washington. It’s a smaller city on an island in the Puget Sound. I was sent to live with my father when I was 12 in Canton, Michigan.
MARK: Was that a move that you wanted to make?
CHARLES: Well, that saga is long and winding, and too long to go into here. I wanted to get away from my mother who had a lot of problems, but it wasn’t my choice. It was “the State” that sent me to live with my father. I don’t think my father really wanted me at that point, which is why I left home when I was 16 and ended up in Ypsilanti, where two incredibly nice lesbos took me in and helped me finish high school, so I didn’t become destitute. Which is why I took personal offense when, a little while ago at Krampus, you referred to me as “so Ann Arbor,” because I know what you meant.
MARK: Sorry about that, Charles. I just think of you as an Ann Arbor institution. I was aware that you’d lived in Ypsi at some point, but I didn’t know the circumstances. At any rate, I’m sorry if my stupid comment upset you, and I’m glad that you brought it up here so that I could properly apologize. (And, for what it’s worth, I was super happy to see you at Krampus.) As for the circumstances that brought you to Michigan, I don’t know what to say, other than that it’s amazing what children are often made to endure. And even more amazing still what they’re able to make of their lives in the wake of such trauma. If you’re comfortable talking about it, I’m curious as to how, if at all, you see your childhood reflected in your creative work, which, at least on the surface, comes across as very happy.
CHARLES: There’s some sad stuff in my music too, if you listen for it. My humor tends to be of a sarcastic nature, but I’m a positive person. My bandmate Micah has called me the most practical absurdist ever. I don’t know exactly what that means, but maybe that has something to do with it. I just want people to be happy when I’m around. My earlier works – Pass the Time Machine (PTTM), and Walter Carlos (WC) – were more self-referential. There’s a hidden track on PTTM, at about the 5-minute mark in “My Time Machine,” that talks about my mother. “You Never Tried to be My Friend” is another song that people are surprised to learn is about my relationship with my father, and they’re even more surprised to learn that the song title comes from something he said to me, and not the other way around.
MARK: It seems that a majority of people that I interview these days, are either going to Portland or Oakland, and it makes me wonder if there might be a market in Ann Arbor for coins that say “Portland” on one side, and “Oakland” on the other, that people who are struggling with the decision could flip… Do you think they’d sell?
CHARLES: I do think they would sell. But, in most cases, it really has to do with having “Anchor” people in those places. Do you ever wonder how so many Polish people ended up in Hamtramck, and things like that? Anchor people? RIGHT?
MARK: OK, here’s a test for you… Sum up Ann Arbor, Oakland and Portland, each in six words? Go!
CHARLES:
Ann Arbor: Post hippy revolving Moderate Hotel California
Portland: Inland Bridge bicycle Buritto almost Goonies
Oakland: Taco truck bird sanctuary estuary forest
MARK: Well done. As I read it, “Moderate Hotel California” is kind of devastating. Do you care to elaborate?
CHARLES: That’s mostly in reference to my job at Downtown Home & Garden. I used to sing that song to the store cat (Lewis) as a joke on him. Later I came to see it was really a joke on me, and how I’d become really comfortable with everything, and no longer “hungry” as they say.
MARK: So you would tease Lewis by singing this song about how he could “never leave,” but then it occurred to you that you were actually in the same trap? Is that the moment when you knew that you’d have to leave?
CHARLES: Mark, you keep coming back to this idea that I have to leave, or something brought me to the breaking point. Ann Arbor and I are not getting a divorce. But I am excited about moving. I can’t wait to do different stuff. Go to different thrift stores and eat at different restaurants.
MARK: I totally understand. I was just trying to get some clarity on the moment you decided to go, and what your thought process was. Regardless of why people go, there’s point when they decide that it’s what they want to do, need to do, etc… Let’s try something else, though… What’s your first memory?
CHARLES: I dunno man… like I remember crawling off a weird stairwell thing and falling onto a couch, but it’s more like a dream.
MARK: I remember bright sunlight through a yellow curtain, and a gentle breeze coming from outside, as I lay in a crib in Monticello, Kentucky. My next memory after that is seeing the opening credits of the Dick Van Dyke Show on a small television. I don’t attribute any deep meaning to such things, but I think it’s interesting what we choose to remember… How about this… What was first television show you ever really loved?
CHARLES: Hhmm… I used to love Ducktails, Rescue Rangers, and Tailspin. When I was really young, I had a black and white TV in my room and I used to stay up all night watching Nick at Nite. That’s kinda weird, cuz now I can relate to people who watched that stuff when it was actually on TV. I liked “Mr. Ed” a lot and “I Dream of Genie”… oh and “Dragnet.” “Dragnet” was so cool. I hated “Green Acres.”
MARK: The color of “Green Acres” bothered me. It was too washed out, unnatural, or something… Why did you stick around Ann Arbor this long?
CHARLES: I like Ann Arbor. My friend Kelly once told me, “You don’t have to hate a place to leave it”. But, really, I was comfortable working at Downtown Home & Garden and I was able to pursue the music thing in my own way. The city is full of parks, and I can walk to work. I also happen to pay really cheap rent. A lot of my friends moved out to Detroit, but I must not really be a Detroit kinda guy.
MARK: Is there anything that you’d still like to accomplish in Michigan before leaving?
CHARLES: Me and some of the guys at work have been kinda putting together a bucket list of things I have to do before I leave. Some of them are specific to them, like getting the Bomber breakfast before work on a Sunday, but other stuff is more universal. Like they want me to do stand-up once before I leave. We’re also supposed to build a boat out of garbage and float it down the Huron.
MARK: I’d forgotten that you were contemplating stand-up… Have you put together any material?
CHARLES: I’m always in joke mode, but I have a hard time writing stand-up jokes that I can repeat. I’m better at just riffing with people. But something about being on stage makes that really hard. I haven’t given up on comedy, though.
MARK: What’s the best show you ever played?
CHARLES: Shows have some many different vibes, so it’s hard to say one was the best, but this was my favorite…… We played in an apartment kitchen in KZOO and it was so small that I had to set my equipment up on the counter and put a speaker on the fridge. It got so hot, that midway through the show, I turned around and used the “dish sprayer off thingy” to spray everyone. Someone opened up the cupboard and found a bag of rice and started throwing it around like it was a wedding or something, like we were all getting married to each other, or everyone was marrying me. The floor felt like it was going to cave in.
MARK: Would you consider yourself more of an inventor or a musician, or isn’t the distinction important to you?
CHARLES: I’m just a man, I do things… Socially, I often feel like I don’t fit in with my fellow musicians, like the kid who got invited to the birthday party because his mom called the birthday kid’s mom and asked why he wasn’t invited. I don’t know which one I am… Which one makes more money?
MARK: I’d like to follow up on your comment about not feeling welcome in the local music scene. Do you think that might just be your perception, or do you really feel as though people didn’t want you around? And, if it’s the latter, why do you think that is? Did they just not get what you were trying to do? Or was it more a personality thing? …And, if it’s money you want, invent an iPhone app.
CHARLES: First off, I think it was entirely personal and having more to do with the fact that I don’t really drink or do drugs. Not participating in those ritualistic things can make you unwelcome in some circles, but, even when that is not the case, an experience wall can develop where it becomes hard to communicate with people who are experiencing the events in a different way. I’ve always been hyper sensitive about whether I was welcome somewhere. It probably comes from when I was kid and always staying the night at my friends’ houses – to get away from my mother – always knowing I didn’t really belong there. Then, later, with my father… Second, I’ll never make any money. I’m black licorice.
MARK: As for the inventor/musician divide, I ask that because it seems to me that maybe you’re deriving more pleasure these days from creating electronics than from performing. Would I be right about that?
CHARLES: A few years ago, I started to get kinda bored with performing. I realized that I was never going to get to be a famous rock n roll star on my terms (or probably on anyone’s terms). I also realized it wasn’t really the lifestyle I wanted, or the people I wanted to surround myself with (not the artists, I like artists, the other people). I also realized that no amount of fame (or anything) will ever fill the emptiness inside me – an emptiness that drives me to constantly be working on something or towards something. I decided that I should broaden my view of what I can do with my life and still be happy. You have this idea when you’re younger that there is only one fate for yourself, or at least I did. Like I was going to a famous rock n roll star, or fail at it. Now I’m 30, and I realize that there are still plenty of other things I can fail at too, and have fun doing it. I wasn’t happiest when I was the most popular. I’m happier now than I’ve ever been… I’ve surprised myself with how fast I’ve gotten good with electronics. It seems my brain was made for this. I’m taking some math courses at WCC, and I’m doing really well in those as well.
MARK: I’ve been told that I should ask you about your hair. Are you cool with that?
CHARLES: Ha Ha. That must be because I make lots of jokes about it. It’s one of those things where, you’re like, “I don’t want anyone to think I’m really worried about my hair, so I’m gonna be the first to make jokes about it,” but then you realize, you’re always talking about your hair – how you’re losing it – so everyone knows you must care about it. Of course I don’t want to be losing my hair. It’s one of those things that happens, and you’re like, “Do I really want to be an old musician?” No. I want to be an old artist. Do you want to be old Axel Rose, or old Brian Eno? The answer is obvious.
MARK: At what moment did you know that it was time to move on?
CHARLES: From Ann Arbor? From Michigan? from my hair? Everyone in Michigan has this “sinking boat” mentality. Like, if you leave, it’s because you can’t hack it… have no pride. A true Michigander goes down with his ship. We’ve had this Detroit auto-based economy “we’re all doomed” bullshit crammed down our throats for so long, it’s shaped how everything is phrased. Doomsday pride. The question is not, when did you decide to leave, but, when did you decided to get out of this stinking hell hole. This isn’t just in reference to this question… it’s the attitude I witnessed a lot. Again, you don’t have to hate a place to leave it.
MARK: I see it differently. I don’t think there’s a sense that people leave because they can’t hack it here. Quite often, it’s the most talented people who are leaving (which is the frustrating thing). I think the sense is that people leave because they feel unfulfilled here, or they believe that they could achieve more elsewhere. At least that’s what I think… I certainly don’t look at the people who are leaving and think, “They just aren’t strong enough, or smart enough.” If anything, it’s the opposite. And, for what it’s worth, I don’t see the state as a “stinking hell hole.” While I hate what’s happening in Lansing, there’s a lot to like about his state. And I think that people will come to realize that as the effects of global warming worsen.
CHARLES: I agree. I like Michigan and I like Ann Arbor, though it may be a “yuppie food court.” Allegiance to a city or state can be so strange, like it all changes depending on the circumstances. If two people are racing, and one lives in Ann Arbor, and the other lives in Ypsi, who do you root for? Or if one is from Ann Arbor, but the other lives in Ann Arbor? Would it be worse if the most talent people moved to the moon rather than Portland or Oakland? I dunno. Talented Michiganders are being conceived at this very moment… it’s just too bad that one day they will be forced move to the moon because that’s where they will be appreciated.
MARK: How have you seen Ann Arbor change over the years that you’ve spent here?
CHARLES: I feel like a lot of people interpret changes in their role within a town as a change in the town itself. I don’t think Ann Arbor has really changed that much since I moved here 10 years ago. My role in the town has changed a lot. I don’t play parties anymore. I don’t go to parties. Some people know me and come to my shows. Some people know me from Downtown Home & Garden. I’m not really involved in “youth culture”. I’m just a guy who does stuff, and so the town seems different than when I was younger, but it’s really the same… But, some places closed, I guess.
MARK: At some point, not too long ago, you mentioned to me that you’d prefer, at this stage in your life, to be known as Charles Slick, as opposed to Charlie Slick. I imagine that’s a difficult transformation to make, though, when you’re such a well-known public figure. I don’t want for this to come across the wrong way, as I really appreciate your work, and don’t want to trivialize it, but it’s kind of like you’re going through, at some level, the same kind of thing that people who achieve stardom early in life often do… trying to reinvent yourself as an adult artist. And it’s not an easy thing to accomplish. For every Justin Timberlake, there’s a Dustin Diamond. And I’m just wondering how, if at all, that factors into your decision to move? Was the memory of the young, shirtless Charlie Slick, covered in glitter and his bubbles, playing in front of swooning young women, just too hard to break free from here, in Michigan?
CHARLES: I am very excited to reinvent myself in another city. My best shows these days are out of town shows, where people don’t have any idea who I am, or what I’m about to do, or cover myself with. As far as the name thing goes, I’ve changed my name so many times… I was Charlie up until I was 6. Then I wanted to be called Chucky (which turned into Chunky, because I was kinda a fat kid). When I was 12, I went by Chuck. And, when I was around 23, I started performing as Charlie Slick, and now everyone knows me as Charlie Slick. A name is just something people call you, and you’d be surprised at how easy it is to change. When I started my math class at Washtenaw Community College, I told everyone my name was Charles and that’s what they call me. I’m trying not to think of my life in terms of fame, and so I don’t believe comparing me to Dustin Diamond is relevant.
MARK: Just for the record, I wasn’t comparing you to Dustin Diamond, or, for that matter, Justin Timberlake. I was just noting the fact that some people make the transition well, while others struggle with it… Let’s talk about your recent electronics work, though. What are you working on right now that you’re excited about?
CHARLES: I’m building a Modular Synthesizer. I design and etch Printed Circuit Boards (PCBs). I recently started sneaking pictures of Sigourney Weaver into my PCBs. Just yesterday, I etched a piece of aluminum for a front panel with a picture of Sigourney Weaver on it. I’m basically teaching myself at this point, but it’s been one of the most mentally rewarding endeavors I’ve ever attempted. I don’t think there is a lot of money in Modular Synthesizers but I like the idea of making Boutique modules to sell for fun. You can follow all my progress on my blog.
MARK: Would you say you’re obsessed with Sigourney Weaver? And, if so, what is it about her that you find so compelling?
CHARLES: I like strong women. I also like tall women. I like women who can put me in my place. I like women who don’t take shit from anybody. It’s true that Sigourney Weaver is that kind of a woman, but I have history of name dropping Sigourney Weaver. I’m not sure why I chose her, or if in a strange way, she chose me.
MARK: I think I must have asked you this before, but have you ever seen Quintron’s infomercial for the Drum Buddy? Ever since I first met you, I’ve thought that you’d be great in that format. Will you do me a favor and consider it?
CHARLES: Yeah, I’d actually never seen that before, but it’s pretty awesome. I’m sure I have a future in QVC.
MARK: What’s the ideal career for Charles Slick, and do you think it’s attainable in Portland?
CHARLES: I don’t know what my ideal situation is exactly in Portland and I don’t think it would be terribly different than if I stayed. I’m going to pursue my electronics education full-time, find some people to play music with, perform with my modular, try to sell my electronics, and maybe get job doing something remotely related to electronics.
MARK: How would you like to be remembered by the people of Ann Arbor?
CHARLES: As I am, a self-absorbed jerk who was mostly a good guy.
MARK: Any parting words of wisdom for those of us who remain behind?
CHARLES: Don’t waste your time trying to “build a scene”. Things like that happen organically when people work on stuff and share it with other people – and as soon as you get this magical problem-solving scene, you’ll hate it, because that’s how it is. For 90% of musicians, the idea of selling records/downloads is over… let it go. More than ever, music is just a means of communication, with your peers and your community. That may be strange coming from me, a person who was completely obsessed with trying to make money playing music. That was just another variation on the many ways I tried to quantify what I was doing. How many shows can I play in month? How many plays on Youtube? How many downloads? How much do I matter? Engineering a “scene” will never turn into anything your father (or your girlfriend’s father) will understand. I am proud to have been a part of things that I think make Ann Arbor/Ypsi cool… Totally Awesome Fest, seeing “this must be the place” play on top of Deja Vu, Water Hill Music Festival, Sherwood Bar. This town does cool stuff and I was a part of some of it, and I’m not moving away to a “cooler” place where “better” things happen. I’m certainly not in search of a better “scene.” See ya’ guys later.
I posted something similar on Facebook earlier this evening, and received the following response from a friend, explaining how Obama will likely go about assigning gay spouses.
I suspect that she’s kidding, and that she doesn’t really have an inside track on how it will go down, but I found the idea to be interesting… Or, at least, I found it a welcomed diversion as I was washing dishes just now. I’d need to break out a tape measure to be sure, but, if I’m not mistaken, the Closest Straight Male (CSM) in proximity to me at the moment is a young former employee of the Ypsi Food Co-op by the name of Adam… who I think would be completely creeped out if he knew that the middle aged father of two next door was, at this very moment, wondering what our married life together would be like.
In all seriousness, we need to start planning one hell of a big street party/riot for later this summer, when we get word from the Supreme Court. Either way, this is going to be huge, historic…. and super gay.
[I apologize for the gratuitous small penis joke above. I really do try to use them sparingly. Something about Kirk Cameron, though, really brings out the worst in me.]
In early 2011, a University of Michigan janitor by the name of Jean-Claude Toviave was arrested and charged with enslaving four West African children in his Ypsilanti home. The four, it would seem, were forced to cook, clean, iron and shine shoes for the 6-foot-3, 230-pound Toviave, who, when he was unsatisfied with their performance, would starve them and beat them with toilet plungers, electrical cords and broomsticks. This violent subjugation, according to journals kept by the four, who Toviave passed off as his own children, went on for nearly five years, until a middle school counselor was made aware of the situation and alerted authorities. (Toviave had enrolled the tree youngest children in school upon bringing them into the United States with forged documentation.)
The following statement, written by one of the victims, was read aloud during the course of Toviave’s trial, which ended yesterday with a guilty verdict and an 11-year sentence:
“The physical torture, beating me and starving me, you inflicted was so painful that I prayed at night that God would either help me to be free, or allow your assaults to kill me… The pain is something I will never forget. In the midst of your verbal and physical assaults, you worked the four of us to death.”
While there’s not a lot of information available about the children, and how they’re presently doing, the Huffington Post is reporting that one of the boys is currently president of his school’s student council, and wants to pursue a career in medicine. But, lest we think there’s a true happy ending here, it’s also noted in this same report that this young man has “permanent damage to his vision and persistent headaches,” as a result of having been repeatedly punched and kicked in the face. So, even if he is able, by some miracle, to put the memory of the abuse behind him, he’ll still have to contend with the physical manifestations of his ordeal for years to come.
…Worldwide, there are more slaves today than at any point in human history, and America is not immune to the crime. Restavèks (a Creole euphemism for domestic slaves, which translates roughly as “stay-withs”) are only a fraction of the estimated 50,000 slaves held in the United States. Each year, traffickers take more people — up to 17,500 according to Justice Department estimates — into slavery in the United States than traders annually took into bondage in colonial America.
The Justice Department has successfully prosecuted sex trafficking cases in record numbers since the passage of the 2000 Trafficking Victims Protection Act. But according to its own estimates, the government has liberated less than 2 percent of the slaves within U.S. borders.
Domestic slaves are the most difficult to discover, let alone free. Recent cases have revealed a pattern of domestic slavery in otherwise “decent” households, often in expatriot enclaves. In those cases, only the intervention of conscientious citizens broke the slaves’ chains…
It’s amazing to me that this was allowed to go on for nearly five years, right under our noses, and I feel as though there are lessons to be learned here. Unfortunately, though, I’m not exactly sure what those lessons are. Clearly, one major take-away from this whole ordeal is an appreciation for just how important our local educators are. Had it not been for an observant school counselor who had the trust of these children, this abuse might very well still be going on today. In a period where we continue to slash public education budgets, I think it’s incredibly important to keep in mind just how much our children, and thus our entire community, depend on these men and women. And my hope is that we all keep this case in mind the next time we’re told that, due to budget constraints, we have no choice but to let go more teachers and counselors. The fact of the matter is, the more children we have in each classroom, and the more cases we have assigned to each counselor, the less likely it is that we’ll bring things like this to light.
As for other ideas, I’m beginning to wonder if it might not make sense to require the genetic testing of children being brought into the United States from countries where this kind of human trafficking is known to be prevalent, to ensure that they are, in fact, related to those individuals claiming to be their parents? Ordinarily, I’d say that this would be overkill, and a violation of civil rights, but, as I’ve now heard of several cases of people passing off unrelated domestic slaves as their own children, I feel as though it could be warranted.
I also think that we, as the local community, need to accept some responsibility. Thankfully, the abuse in this case was eventually caught by someone in the public school system, but it took five years, and one has to think that there were other warning signs over that span of years that some of us saw and chose not to act upon. (I saw it noted somewhere that Toviave was also farming the kids out to clean and perform menial tasks for friends, so I think it’s likely that people must have seen something.) While I’d rather not live in a community where people are encouraged to call the police on their neighbors every time they see a kid with a bruise carrying a mop bucket, I do think that things like this are less likely to happen in communities where people are more engaged with one another. And, by “engaged,” I don’t mean nosy. I’m not suggesting that people surveil their neighbors. The occasional friendly conversation, however, may not be such a bad thing.
One last thing… As someone who may very well have helped to build the Habitat for Humanity house where this abuse took place, I’ve gone through an interesting progression of feelings this evening. At first, I was a little angry at the thought that I might have helped to have built a home for a man like this. I don’t know why I’d expect Habitat for Humanity to identify this man as a human trafficker when our Immigration officers apparently weren’t able to, but I found myself doing just that. And my fear is that others might do the same… or worse… come to the conclusion that a majority of those acquiring homes through Habitat for Humanity, are conniving schemers who just know how to play the system to their own advantage. I know it’s something of a tangent, but, as I care a great deal about the program, and know the good that it does, I’d hate to see stories like this begin to undermine the mission.
I’ve got more that I’d like to say, but I’m falling asleep… If you’d like to learn more about the case, you can find coverage at both USA Today and the Detroit Free Press.
CHARLES: There’s some sad stuff in my music too, if you listen for it. My humor tends to be of a sarcastic nature, but I’m a positive person. My bandmate Micah has called me the most practical absurdist ever. I don’t know exactly what that means, but maybe that has something to do with it. I just want people to be happy when I’m around. My earlier works – 
MARK: Would you consider yourself more of an inventor or a musician, or isn’t the distinction important to you?
MARK: At some point, not too long ago, you mentioned to me that you’d prefer, at this stage in your life, to be known as Charles Slick, as opposed to Charlie Slick. I imagine that’s a difficult transformation to make, though, when you’re such a well-known public figure. I don’t want for this to come across the wrong way, as I really appreciate your work, and don’t want to trivialize it, but it’s kind of like you’re going through, at some level, the same kind of thing that people who achieve stardom early in life often do… trying to reinvent yourself as an adult artist. And it’s not an easy thing to accomplish. For every Justin Timberlake, there’s a Dustin Diamond. And I’m just wondering how, if at all, that factors into your decision to move? Was the memory of the young, shirtless Charlie Slick, covered in glitter and his bubbles, playing in front of swooning young women, just too hard to break free from here, in Michigan?
CHARLES: I’m building a Modular Synthesizer. I design and etch Printed Circuit Boards (PCBs). I recently started sneaking pictures of Sigourney Weaver into my PCBs. Just yesterday, I etched a piece of aluminum for a front panel with a picture of Sigourney Weaver on it. I’m basically teaching myself at this point, but it’s been one of the most mentally rewarding endeavors I’ve ever attempted. I don’t think there is a lot of money in Modular Synthesizers but I like the idea of making Boutique modules to sell for fun. You can follow all my progress 
CHARLES: As I am, a self-absorbed jerk who was mostly a good guy. 
In early 2011, a University of Michigan janitor by the name of Jean-Claude Toviave was arrested and charged with enslaving four West African children in his Ypsilanti home. The four, it would seem, were forced to cook, clean, iron and shine shoes for the 6-foot-3, 230-pound Toviave, who, when he was unsatisfied with their performance, would starve them and beat them with toilet plungers, electrical cords and broomsticks. This violent subjugation, according to journals kept by the four, who Toviave passed off as his own children, went on for nearly five years, until a middle school counselor was made aware of the situation and alerted authorities. (Toviave had enrolled the tree youngest children in school upon bringing them into the United States with forged documentation.)
