Mondongo Soup

by John Cannizzo, GreenTeam Director, HSNY

A. noticed the online sex service “Vegas Entertainment Network” on her Amex statement. After mild threats the customer service rep came back with the name of the user -- his real name.

On the way back from the road test – the third one -- school is still going well; Wave Hill hired him – a kid from the neighborhood. Everything was O.K. Boston Road looked almost pretty. Christmas lights, little converted bungalows. You could hardly make out the bared windows. He sits in the passenger seat.

“I passed.” The road test evaluation tenderly held in his hand -- “passed." We walk into the restaurant.

“Passed.”

He failed twice. A dozen men fill the restaurant: pitted floor; overflowing sink; over-loaded outlet; newspapers. Mondongo: soup of disappointment; now soup of victory.

He kisses the evaluation.

“What did you think you were doing man?”

Conceited best schoolboy twinkle turns to hard stare peculiar to the street, the Amex statement in my hand.

“None of your business old man.”

“Be civil”

“Shit!” he says pushing out of the booth not quickly enough to evade my stiff lunge. People are looking. The flimsy Amex statement floats to the floor.

“What’s that?”

“Should I report this to your P.O.? Pick it up.”

He slides into the booth ungracefully.

A cockroach crawls along the floor.

“Why did you do it?”

“What?” The cockiness gone.

“Why?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

We sit looking at each other. He gets up to go again, the limp xerox on the table between us.

“You’re going to talk to A.”

“No!”

“Yes! Fraud is a crime.”

“Talk to her about what?”

“Never mind that -- why?”

“Let me go.”

“Where?”

“Home.”

“Good let’s go.”

“You ain’t going to my house.”

“You made me look bad. I’m telling your father.” The waitress watches us. She takes her time. The soup steams.

“I’m hungry. You plan to let me eat?”

“Hungry?”

“Yea.”

“That’s good.”

“Why?”

“You want to end up in the jail again?”

His stomach grumbles.

“Eat.”

Anyone witnessing the two men eating - one old and grey, the other bronze and handsome - would say that they had not had a decent meal for some time. We ate drowning some inner need in tripe. The curious waitress brings water. He belches.

“Shit, this place is the best.”

“Don’t curse if you want to be taken seriously.”

“Can I go now?”

“No.”

“There was fear again surfacing out of a thick pond of soup: the look of fear -- enjoyable as dessert.

“Not until I hear it.”

He made to leave but thought better when he saw the xerox spread out on the spotted table. “I ain’t afraid.”

“You are. You’re not stupid. This will make it worse.” Now it wouldn’t be long till the tears came. “Stop crying, just tell me what happened. I’m not a cop, I’m not going to turn you in.”

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This is the bridge that leads to Rikers Island. It is blurry because I was using my telephone camera and driving. When you pass this styx-like bridge all due process ends. If you have a good Correction Officer your experience can actually be quite human. If not it can be hell and there is nothing you can do about it.

At the end of the parking lot is the control shed. All visitors must stop here to confirm their clearances.

This is the bus that takes the students from the dormitory style jail houses to our Greenhouse compound at Rikers Island. That is my shadow. Students have told me that they “escape” from jail every time they come to the Greenhouse.

In the Greenhouse we propagate seedlings for the vegetable gardens at Rikers and for community gardens all over NYC. The young man in the story was very good at this work. For most of the students this is their first experience of planting a seed, caring for it and seeing it turn into a plant. It is formative.

In the snow it is serene, quiet, and meditative. Almost like a monastery.

It is so easy to get in trouble. These kids were part of our gardening program at New York City Housing. One day I saw them being arrested by the police outside of the site. With spray paint. They had just started to graffiti a wall. One arrest and you are in the system. Then on any job application after that you have to answer the question “have you ever been arrested” truthfully. If you say “no” and lie you loose your job; if you say “yes” you probably won’t get the job anyway unless the employer is a shrewd judge of people. When the police saw me with a camera they became reticent. They asked me if I “knew these kids?” I told the kids, “I told you a thousand times to be serious, now look.” The police let them off with a warning.

Once a person is released form jail they can become an HSNY intern – join the Greenteam. So many have come to train with HSNY, to really learn to observe nature and themselves. The gardens are safe places. Sometimes things don’t work out though. Sometimes old ways persist or resurface. Then there are set backs. The psychologist Carl Jung pointed out that no one can ever be totally sure that he has separated from his dark side, but with our students there is so much more at risk.