Dinah on Settling Herself Down

"I have been around kids my whole life, so I knew that being a bus attendant was the right job for me. I used to do manager stuff over at Blockbuster Video, but I needed a change. Three years ago, I went in and applied to work with the school buses. I never thought about being a driver. I knew that I wanted to sit in the back and be around the kids. It is a little bit of a step down from what I was doing before, but that's okay. I really enjoy my job. 

"I grew up in D.C. and went to school in Montgomery County. I never rode school buses as a kid, only public buses, so this was all new to me when I started. Every day, the bus driver and I go and pick up kids around Maryland and D.C. A lot of the kids who take my bus have special needs, either physical or mental. I am there to help the kids get on-and-off the bus and make sure that they behave while they are on the bus. Sometimes, I interact with the kids while we are riding, but you have to be careful and keep your boundaries, so that they understand who is the boss.

"They really trained us for everything before I started. Turns out that everything that they said was the truth. I have never had really difficult kids, but I can't speak for everybody. Being here is also nice because there is a good work force. Sometimes we might argue, but that happens any where. In the end, we are like a family.

"If I keep working hard, I can move up to a management position and oversee the bus yard or be a timekeeper. Thing is that I want to go get my college degree so that I can be a teacher. After I graduated high school, I jumped from job-to-job trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I thought about college, but like a lot of people, I was young and wanted to party. But I settled myself down. Since I had my daughter, Mahira, I really settled myself down. I have to say that my work now has a lot of influence on me wanting to be a teacher and get ahead."

Reshell on Going to College

"My family goes back three generations in D.C. We have always been in the Columbia Heights neighborhood. I really love it here and am going to miss D.C. a lot when I leave in August to go to college. I just graduated from Friendship Collegiate Academy on Minnesota Avenue and will be the first one in my family to go to college. My parents are a little sad that I am going so far away, but the University of North Carolina was the best school that I got into, and I got a scholarship.

"I have been in public charter schools most of my life in D.C. They prepared me a lot for college and taught me that I really like to help people. Now, I am studying health and want to go into physical therapy. I got part of that from my mother who does social work and helps people with all kinds of stuff. I think that because my parents didn't go to college, made them push me harder to do better than what they are doing now. They kept me focused and encouraged me to be my best. I have two younger siblings who are also in D.C. public charter schools and hope to go college, too. 

"You know, I really am going to miss this city when I go. It is such a nice place."

Roberto on Coming to Terms with Himself

"I am fifth generation born in El Paso, Texas. I grew up with my Mom and three sisters, as my Dad was not around. My Mom owned a hair salon and I spent a lot of time there. Back in the day, I never knew if I wanted to do interior design or hair, but I never did either because I thought they were too gay. I always knew that I was gay, but I just thought that I was a freak and there was something wrong with me that could be fixed. Seriously.

"My Mom and I are very close, but she is a really simple woman. One time, she told me that if she found out that her only son was gay, she would kill herself. What do you say to that?  I mean, how could I tell my Mom that I wanted to go to hair school? It was basically like coming out of the closet. You spend your time doing hair and carrying around a bag with rollers and flat irons. I loved it, but that is pretty gay. I only decided to enroll in hair school when I came to terms with myself. Now, I am 38 and finally came out to my Mom three Christmases ago. She turned out to be cool with it. I think that she always knew. She was just in denial.

"For most of my life in El Paso, I lived two lives. In high school, I was still in the closet, so I did the whole girlfriend thing and played sports. Right out of high school, I met these guys from Juarez, Mexico who played on a gay volleyball team in El Paso. I started practicing with them and hung out with them because they were the only gay guys that I knew. The whole time, I also had my straight friends and my straight life. I never mixed the two worlds. If it was not for volleyball and meeting those guys, I don't know where I'd be. I'd probably still be straight and in El Paso. 

"I ended up leaving El Paso and moving in with my boyfriend in Dallas. When that didn't work out, I was talking with one of my volleyball friends who encouraged me to move to D.C. where he was. When I got here, I worked at a law firm and as a courthouse and jail clerk while I went to hair school at night. It was scary to leave my federal job to pursue hair, but I fucking hated it. My first job was in a really conservative salon in the World Bank, so I wasn't getting a chance to be creative until I started working at Bang salon. 

"D.C. is getting better, but it can still be pretty lame in terms of hair and design. Most people here are so afraid to do something different because they work in politics. I get tons of girls who come in and say, 'Do something edgy.' As soon as I give them ideas, they get scared and want to go back to their same haircut. What's that term, freak in the sheets and a lady on the streets. It's like that, I guess. Still, it is so much better than when I came here ten years ago. 

"For the most part, I love my clients. I have had to divorce a few of them, but overall they are great. We talk about all kinds of stuff in the chair. Most of these people are sitting behind a desk all day and they want to gossip and hear my crazy stories. They tell me a lot of stuff, too. And I mean, a lot of stuff. I hear about women who cheat on their husbands or have had lesbian experiences. I've heard it all. I guess that girls love that whole Will and Grace thing and want to have a cool, gay best friend." 

You can find Roberto at Bang Salon at 601 F Street NW.

Paula on Where Heroes Are Buried

“When Justin finished high school, he decided that he wanted to join the infantry. I just blew up and said, 'You are my only kid, and the country is at war. Why would you put yourself in harms way?' He said, 'Mom, you should have had more kids. This is my dream and you need to man up and be strong.' I supported him, but I also used to clip news articles about war casualties for him to try and dissuade him, but he didn’t care.

"For all of his life, I preached college. He promised that when he got out of the Army, he would go to UCLA and then be a movie star. He was going to be the next Bruce Lee. It's funny, when he came back from basic training, he wanted to show me hand-to-hand combat, so he tried out his new moves on me. 

"When he was first sent to Afghanistan, I was happy because I thought it was a safer place than Iraq. I barely even knew that the war was still going on in Afghanistan because we only heard about Iraq in the news. He was so excited because he was assigned to the 10th Mountain Division, which was one of the most deployed units in the military. He was being trained to fight and wanted to be deployed. He was sent to the Korengal Valley, which they call the valley of death.

"He was four months into his first deployment when he was killed by friendly fire on June 25, 2006 at the age of 19. I didn’t even know what that term meant until this happened. They were coming back from a mission and were being followed by the enemy. Justin's unit called for a mortar attack and someone got the coordinates wrong. He was the only one in his unit who was killed that day. The last time I spoke with Justin was on May 3oth, a month before he died. He said, ‘Don’t worry about me. You won’t hear from me for a while because we are going out on a mission. I'll be okay.’ 

"I was on a business trip out in Wyoming when this happened. When I was told I had to go, I was thinking, what if something happens to Justin? How are they going to find me? People told me not to think like that and take the trip. I had this anxiety and the worst thing that I thought could happen, happened. The Army eventually tracked me down and said they needed to send someone over to talk to me. I begged them to tell me over the phone, but they wouldn't. I thought they were coming to tell me that Justin was hurt and I would have to go to Germany, where the main hospital was. 

"Finally, a few hours later, someone came over in dress uniform and asked, 'Are you Mrs. Davis.' I said, 'Yes.' The commander said, “Mrs. Davis, The United States Army is sorry.’ I just lost it and said this can’t be. I sat in a chair crying and crying. You always hear about that knock on the door. Mine came when I was thousands of miles away from home, in Wyoming of all places.

"After he died, the Army asked me where I wanted to bury him. Justin and I never talked about the what ifs. I remember him telling me once that all of the heroes are buried at Arlington Cemetery, so I knew that this is where he would want to be. Since he passed, I come here every weekend with my chair, Justin’s old backpack from school, some flowers, and my bible. I rush and work a lot during the week, so this is a nice time for me to slow down and reflect. I so feel Justin's presence when I am here. There are a number of people who also come here every weekend to see their loved ones. We take care of each other. We laugh and cry together and check up on each other. We have an informal support group.

"Since Justin, there have been so many other people buried here. I look out into the distance and think about all of the free land here just waiting for graves. I think about those families that will come here and grieve a loved one. I understand that there has to be war sometimes, but I think we should only go because nothing else that we have tried works."

Pfc Justin Ray Davis

1st PLT A Co 1-32 Infantry

1/28/87 - 6/25/06

Killed in Action in the Korengal Valley, Afghanistan

Shanell on Fighting for It

"Sometimes I wonder how and why I got where I am today, but I guess that God has a bigger purpose for me. I moved around a lot as a kid and came back to D.C. three years ago. When I was younger, I was placed in foster care with my brother. But my mother fought and got us back. She then sent my brother off to South Carolina, where my parents are from, so he could have a better life. 

"Since then, life has been tough and we kept moving a lot. I mean, I was in four different high schools my freshman year. My Mom and I were also homeless for six months. She tried to keep me away from as much of it as she could, but I still knew what was going on. Nobody would help us and we lived in a women's shelter near Judiciary Square. I live with my Dad now because my Mom and I don't get along. We have two different personalities. I love her, but I can't live with her. I look at those experiences with my Mom and don't want that for myself. That gave me the motivation to get out of the environment I was in and make a better life for myself. 

"Now, I am 19 and a senior at Anacostia High School. I graduate next Friday and will be going to Kentucky State in the fall on a scholarship. I still haven't seen the school, but I have friends on campus who say it is a nice place. I want to study to be a neuroscientist, like Dr. Ben Carlson. I read one his books in the sixth grade and it touched me. My mentor at the time told me to read it because I didn't have any direction and she thought it would help me. I have wanted to be a neuroscientist ever since then. I have done a number of science programs at places like the University of Maryland and George Washington to help prepare me to be a neuroscientist. 

"In the future, I feel like I don't have any choice but to come back and help my community. I really think that I can reach people with my story. Not all of my friends are graduating from high school. Some have given up and probably don't feel like they have a future. But I know plenty of people who came from the negative, like me, and are turning it into a positive. I would tell people who are thinking about dropping out of school to keep the fight going. If you give up now, you are basically giving up on life. I know it's hard, but it wasn't meant to be easy. If you really want it, you have to fight for it."

Adrian on Living with No Regrets

"I am 24 years old and grew up all over this city. I have learned that different parts of the city are, you know, different. We moved a lot because some of the neighborhoods were no good and because I kept getting put out of D.C. public schools. Eventually, I was put out of all of them. If I knew the things I know now, I probably would not have acted as I acted then. I can't change what caused me to do what I done did back then, but I don't live with no regrets. 

"A lot of people don't understand that there are a lot of influences and things going on around you that make things, you know, stressful. All of this stuff is gonna affect you one way or another. There ain't nobody who can live on these streets and come away all normal. Sometimes, you fall in or sometimes you might be strong. I guess it depends on the person, but if you are subjected to all this long enough, it is going to get to you. 

"After I was put out of school, I went to school in Maryland, but that didn't work out either. My only option to not be a failure in life was to go to Job Corps. I told my mother that I was going and wanted to do something with my life. She didn't make me go or nothing, I did it because I knew that it was the only option that I had left. I went to job corps in West Virginia and got my high school diploma and a learned business technology. They trained me to use Microsoft Office. The program was supposed to take two years, but I finished in six months. The stuff they were teaching, I already knew. See, I may have been put out of the schools here, but I ain't stupid. I got this stuff. 

"I have a two year old daughter and I want her to go to college and do the things I was never able to do. I am still a young guy and ain't finished doing what I want to do, but feel like I missed out on a lot because how I was when I was younger. Ultimately, I want to get my degree in engineering, or something like that, and get certified in scuba diving. In high school, I got certified in a swimming pool and we were supposed to go out into the open water to get certified, but I got put out before that. I really miss it. I still love the water, and that was one of the things that  they could never take away from me. Now, I work on the Odyssey, that cruise ship down on the waterfront. They give tours of the city and go over to Virginia. I am a deck hand and part of the marine crew. It is a nice way to stay close to the water. That's pretty much about all I got to say." 

Adrian is pictured with his daughter Kierra.

Carolyn on Common Sense

"I was born in Wilson, North Carolina. My family was all sharecroppers, so I didn't get no education. I never learned no reading or writing. Now, my children read and write for me. I tried to learn when I was little, but my Mom and Dad were against it. They needed me to work the fields with 'em. I tried going to night school when I was older, but I had kids and had to raise them, so I ain't had no time for that. But, I got a lot of common sense for a 54 year old. 

"I came up here in 1977. My grandmother had just passed in North Carolina and I had a friend living here who got me a job. I took my three kids, and we moved up here. I took care of an older man and we all lived with him until he passed. This was up on 51st Street Northeast. Then, I moved around a bit and ended up in Barry Farms some 20-something years ago. I done everything for work from babysitting to cutting grass to helping elderly people. Like I say, I didn't get no education, but I got a lot of common sense and I work hard. 

"I still don't like Washington, but I stay for my kids. This place is too loud and crazy for me. I miss the quiet and peace of North Carolina. I don't know what my kids like about being here, but they sure do like something. I hope to go back home soon. 

"Y'all have a blessed day." 

Brother Hamza on Making Good on His Mistakes

"I got home on November 30, 2009 after being incarcerated for 21 years, 6 months, and 20 days. See, I was married to a beautiful girl, Hafsa, who gave me a beautiful daughter, Ruqqiya. We had a beautiful life together. But, my daughter died of cancer at nine. Two years later, a man murdered my wife. So, I found the person who killed her and I killed him. I do not regret killing him at all. If I had my way, I would dig him up, bring him back to life, and kill him again. I will say this again, so that I am being real clear. I would dig him up, bring him back to life, and kill him again. I have no remorse whatsoever because he took away something very precious from me. You see these cracks in the sidewalk, that is how my heart feels every day. I don’t think that I will every marry again. She was the only one who made me happy. 

"I came back to Washington after I got out because this is where my problem began and, Insha’Allah, this is where my problems shall end. I came back to rectify what I f-ed up and work to change the areas I once corrupted and tainted. I was a tyrant on these streets until I bit into Islam whole heartedly while I was incarcerated.

"I came to the faith on August 25, 1980. I was walking on New Jersey and 4th St. NW on a Friday and heard the call to prayer. It pricked my heart and I walked into the Masjid and everything became as clear as day. But, I did not live as a good Muslim until I was locked up. Some of the most beautiful times that I have had in my life were when I was incarcerated, especially the Muslim holidays. I was the Imam when I was locked up in Kentucky. People looked to me for guidance, strength, and help. While I am free now, sometimes I miss those days of having such a position of responsibility now that I am living on the streets. 

"I have no family or home, but Allah places people in my path to help me. He places people in my path to feed me, clothe me, and give me knowledge. He also places people in my path, so I can give what I have back to them. There is a hadith in the Koran says that if you see a wrong, first change it with your hands. That means do something about it. If you can’t use your hands, use our mouth. That means speak on it. If not that, change it within your heart. I want to use my hands, words, and heart to spread wisdom and knowledge to people here. Allah has a purpose for me, which is to help my brothers and sisters and make good on my mistakes."

Noble on Staying Connected to Foreign Places

"My Mom came up to D.C. with the Carter White House to work on urban revitalization. She knew Carter before he got into politics and worked on his campaign. I was about four when we moved here from Atlanta. I did most of my school here and then started doing development work in Latin America, Eastern Europe, and the Middle East.

"In 2003, I got a call on a Sunday night, asking if I could go to Iraq that Monday for three weeks to work on a Department of Defense development project. I went and ended up staying for a year. Before I left, I didn't realize that I was pregnant. While I was in Iraq, I was pretty sick, but thought that I had worms. The food was so bad and everyone was losing weight, so I didn't think anything of it. Five months in, I went to a local doctor to get checked out. He told me that I was six months pregnant. I was shocked. 

"At the time, the Americans did not know. I had pre-natal vitamins sent to me through my Army Post Office (APO) address, but someone opened my package and found out that I was pregnant. I finally had to inform everyone and they were definitely not happy about it. They were angry about the liability and resource issues given that we were in a war zone. But they said that I could stay in Iraq if I signed a release saying that if anything happened to me or my baby, the military would have no liability. I loved Iraq and the work I was doing. It was still during the time when people were optimistic and I thought that we could fix things.

"Three weeks before I gave birth, the Judge Advocate General (JAG) decided that he wanted me to leave Iraq and go to Frankfurt to have the baby. They were in the process of negotiating the arrangement when my water broke while unloading some cargo. My colleague took me to the Green Zone where the JAG and most of the doctors were upset about having to deal with this. They started bringing in U.S. military specialists from around the country to help with my labor. Right before I came in, the hospital got a call that there were wounded soldiers coming in. I ended up having a cesarian and was in-and-out in five minutes. With Alex, my baby, they had to modify everything. They put her in tupperware and jerry-rigged a ventilator out of someone's popcorn maker. All they had were death certificates, so they had to modify things to make a birth certificate. 

"Amazingly, everyone there rallied around Alex. When she was a a little stronger, the nurse took her around to see the wounded soldiers. The whole place was packed with people with side arms passing her around. It was really surreal. When I got ready to leave the hospital, the JAG came by to tell me that it really upset him that I was going to have a baby there, but at the end, it really changed the morale of the place. He even asked to take a picture with me, Alex, and the birth certificate. She was born on an American base, so she is American, but her place of birth is Baghdad. That has put her on the no-fly list three times already as a six year old. I was the first American to have a kid like that, and I don't think they have allowed it since. 

"We got evacuated a few months later when the security situation got much worse. From there, I went to Jordan and then came back to D.C. Since being back, we have travelled a bit, but have stayed mostly in D.C. I think that traveling is a great way to raise a child, but Washington also has so many great opportunities to keep that connection to foreign places and cultures." 

Noble is pictured with Alex. 

Lloyd on Washington's Other Monuments

"I was born in Dayton, Ohio. My Dad was an aircraft engineer at the Wright-Patterson Air Force base. He eventually got a job on some new thing called computers and we moved around a bit before settling in the D.C. area in 1965. 

"By hit or miss, I became a photographer while in college in Connecticut. When I came back to the area, my work was taking me all over the city and I started seeing these shrines to people who were killed on the streets. To me, it was like watching someone’s heart bleed in public. There is a huge amount of emotional content in them. They are homemade folk art and very specific to D.C. From my relatively small research, there have been shrines recorded back to the early Middle Ages in Europe. The instinct to build shrines varies from place to place, but they are immediately recognizable no matter where you are.

"I started photographing the shrines seven years ago. I have been to over 500 and documented over 200 of them. Many of them are very modest, just some police tape and a teddy bear, but others are huge. I have seen panties and condoms, but typically it is plush toys, balloons, and liquor bottles. I think that a lot of these items represent someone's hope for the deceased and for the community. Maybe it is a hope for a better, safer, and heavenly place for the deceased and a call against violence in the community.

"When newspapers were strong, you could find information about every shooting in the Washington Post. Now, someone getting shot doesn’t make the paper. Three or four people have to get shot before that becomes news. I still drive around looking for the shrines and also use the area police resources to keep up with what is happening. I think that I have been to almost every shrine in the area since I started. I do not document the vigils out of respect for the families, but I take photos of the shrines to capture crime’s aftermaths and how it affects people. I am interested in documenting and sharing the healing aspects of shrines and how people try and rebuild themselves using this folk art.

"Doing this is part of my own way of keeping my priorities straight. I think that our job in life, if we have a job, is to learn and enlarge the consciousness of ourselves and others. I do this with no support, but because it is the right thing to do. I would like to bring this work into a public awareness program and to people who can make use of it, like survivors of street violence.

"As one guy said to me at one of the shrines, 'No matter how bad you are, no one deserves this.' When someone is murdered, you don’t just kill a person. You are also killing their entire family. Life is a short, complicated, and mysterious gift. Some lives end too soon. I can’t imagine ending this work unless the murders disappear in this city."

Read more about Lloyd Wolf's work here.

Jovonne on her 2019 Bid for Mayor

Jovonne, left, is pictured with her mother, Shirley.

"I was born in Washington D.C. and grew up on 6th St in Shaw. In my neighborhood, if you didn't have a good family or support network to help you, you would end up as another statistic. I feel blessed that I had both, but things were still hard. The first experience that made me think the world was crazy was at ten years old. I was outside playing and all of the sudden, I heard a car speeding down the street and this pop,pop..pop,pop. There were bullets everywhere and people were running in all directions. Can you imagine living in a place where the hustlers don't care who they shoot? I always wanted to tell them that it was them who made our neighborhood bad. 

"There were way worse environments that I could have been in, though. There was an apartment building on 13th and S St. called Garfield Terrace. I went to school with some kids who lived there. When I saw how these kids were living, I felt like I lived in Georgetown. The dope heads were in their hallways. My Mom couldn't make sure that the neighborhood was safe for me, but she made sure that the area from our house to the corner was a safe environment. We were the house that no one messed with because people were scared of my Mom. She never had to apologize to me about our neighborhood because we were the lucky ones. It definitely was not the best neighborhood, but it certainly wasn't the worst. 

"We lived in a nice, working class neighborhood. I felt like I was raised in a village. If a neighbor saw me jaywalking, they would tell me to go back across the street and wait for the green light, and then they would tell my Mom. My Mom allowed us to live our lives, but we had rules. The most important one was to finish high school. There was no dropping out in my house. College was an option, but high school was mandatory. I graduated from Cardoza High School in 2001 and went to college in Dover, Delaware. 

"Since I was little, everyone around me expected a lot out of me. I think a lot of that comes from starting at the New Community for Children in 1990. Their program helped me to recognize my talents and opened my eyes to the world. With time, I recognized that I was setting trends and not following them. If I could get all of my friends to follow me in doing something silly at school, I thought of what it would be like if I led them to do something positive. I started to do community service and found a love for children. Everyone is not blessed to have a good family and supportive community, so if you can help just one child, you could change someone's life just like my life was changed. 

"When I came back from college, I got a job here teaching 4th grade at New Community. I love the mission here, which is that each one teach one. I let my kids know that they can relate to me. Sometimes they are shocked that I know what things are like for them on the street. They look at me as an adult, not as someone who has been through the same things they go through everyday. 

"I would be really interested in taking my experience and talking to kids in private or suburban schools about urban life. I would love to tell people that we are not different. We just live in different worlds. A lot of people glorify that world, especially those who don't live in these neighborhoods, but people lose their lives here every day. The streets will chew you up and spit you out if you are not strong enough to survive them. You can judge the life and decisions people make here, but until you live here, it is hard to beat the odds. I don't know too many lawyers or doctors, but I do know a lot of hustlers, drug dealers, and drug users. I might not be rich or famous, but I did beat the odds. So did my sister and brother. And these kids can, too. They just need people to believe in them and give them an opportunity. 

"My goal is to be mayor and help make people's lives better and give people who want them opportunities. We don't need hand outs, but we need to help those who want to help themselves. So watch out for me in 2019. Jovonne Simpson, remember the name."

New Community for Children provides underserved children and families in Washington, DC with before school, after school, and summer programs that help them strengthen their academic skills as well as foster the self-confidence and creativity needed to realize their fullest potential. Donate your time or money here.

David on the Brickskeller

"I was born at home at the corner of Rodman and Connecticut Avenue in 1950. People talk about being a native born Washingtonian, it doesn't get much more native than that. I played music professionally and lived on the road for about six years, but have been here otherwise. I guess I just can't figure out how to get out of here. 

"My wife's grandfather started the Brickskeller in 1957. He was French and a Cordon Bleu certified chef. In the 1940's, he was a chef at Napoleon's, which was Washington's best restaurant at the time. He wanted to open his own place and leased a space over by the Mayflower Hotel and opened the restaurant Blackstones. Eventually, he bought this space and opened the Brickskeller  in 1957. There were a lot of good restaurants at the time, so he wanted to make his stand out. At the time, places had good wine lists, but no one had a good beer list. This place opened with around 50 different beers available. We probably had the most beers in the world then, and we have tried to keep that up. 

"There were a million bars called the Ratskeller at the time, especially around colleges. Ratskeller is a German word meaning a bar below street level that serves beer. He didn't want to have another ratskeller, but he liked the sufiix. The place was built of brick, so he combined the two words. The original menu of this place had Alaskan king crab legs for $1.75 and a pitcher of beer for $.85. Those prices are still good, if you pay in 1957 silver dimes. 

"This bar has gone through many variations. In the 1970's, this was the largest dart bar in the country. The problem with darts is that the place was jam packed, but the bartenders were sitting on their asses because no one was drinking. They didn't want to screw up their game. The place also has an interesting music history. Emmylou Harris, Mama Cass, and Jose Feliciano played here. Jim Morrison used to hang out here when he lived in Virginia. 

"During the bicentennial, someone dared the owners to have a beer from every state. Missouri, at the time, was a dry state, so they didn't succeed, but it planted the seed to expand the beer list. They bought a truck and sent it around the states to get beer from all over, including Alaska. We had about 400 beers when I came here in 1982, half of which were cans because can collecting had been popular in the 70's. I saw that the future of the industry was in better quality bottled beer. In the first year I was here, I increased the number of beers to 850. At one point, we had it up to 1,300 beers. Now, we have a little over 1,000. I like having the opportunity to present the world of beer to people who want to experience it. 

"Since opening, this place is remarkably unchanged. People come in who haven't been here in 40 years and say, 'This place looks exactly the same.' I say, 'We probably swept a couple times." 

The Brickskeller is located at 1523 22nd Street NW.

Laura on the Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington

"My family started in the grocery business in D.C. My great-grandfather came here in 1918, just two days after World War I ended. He opened a grocery store in Trinidad. My grandmother was a bookkeeper, and my grandfather sold milk and eggs at the market. My father was always very proud of being born in Washington and his roots here. I grew up with a strong awareness of local history and an attachment to the places and people here.

"I used to work as an international tax lawyer for the IRS. I loved it, but one day when I was walking home, I thought that these multinationals and all of their tax problems are so divorced from everyday life. I always knew that I wanted to do something that was going to make our community a better place. Ever since I was a kid, I was interested in historic buildings, the environment, and creating a sense of place. When I started to volunteer at the Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington in 1993, things just clicked. A year later, the curator told me that the executive director was going to retire and I should apply. There were a number of people applying and I didn't think that I would get it. But, at the age of 35, I became executive director. Since coming on, I have been working to build a strong sense of pride in our Jewish community and history in Washington and help build bridges to the wider community.

"The Jewish population was always small here compared to other places. The Jewish community started to form in D.C. around the 1840's. By community, I mean 20 families of around 400 Jews who came in through the ports in New York, Boston, and Baltimore. The presence of the government helped lure additional people. Until World War I, we only had about 2,000 Jews in Washington. Later, the number of Jews grew dramatically, as a lot of Jews came here to work for the New Deal or the newly-formed government agencies. Now, Washington has grown into one of the most educated and affluent Jewish communities in the country. 

"Jews have lived in all four corners of this city. While there were neighborhood enclaves, there was not one particular Jewish neighborhood in Washington that had all of the Jewish life. Jews largely spread to the thoroughfares, where they could open shops. In NW, it was 7th Street. In SW, it was along 4 1/2 Street, which isn't there anymore because of the urban renewal. Jews were also on H Street, NE, and in Anacostia. These were mostly mom-and-pop stores, but a number of the smaller shops ended up becoming department stores like Lansburgh's, Saks, Hechts, and King's Palace.

"In the 1920's, Jews started to move uptown to Petworth, Shepherd Park, and Silver Spring. As more and more Jews were living uptown, many of the synagogues left downtown - specifically I St between 5th and 8th Streets where there was a synagogue on practically ever corner - for bigger spaces and to be closer to their congregants. In the 1950's, that is when the commercial area on 7th Street started to go into decline. Things got much worse after the riots. After that, people were not coming downtown, as they were afraid. In 1969, many of the remaining Jewish groups, mainly the Jewish Community Center (JCC), the Hebrew Home, and the Jewish Social Service Agency, moved out of the city to Rockville. For them, it may have seemed like the clear choice because the Jewish community was largely uptown.

"Because there has been a real push to make D.C. more of a livable city in recent years, that has helped to reestablish some of the important historical Jewish sites in the city. Who would have dreamt that in 1997, the JCC would buy back their building on 16th and Q Street and there would be a downtown JCC again. Moving forward, I would love to see more of an emphasis on arts and culture in the Jewish community here. You look at places like New York, which has a dedicated Jewish museum, and Toronto, where the Jewish Federation has a vice president for culture. We are working to be able to do those kinds of things for the community here."

Laura Cohen Apelbaum is the executive director of the Jewish Historical Society of Greater Washington. 

Saro on Who He Is

"I'm 17. Throughout my life, I have lived in the whole D.C. metropolitan area. Now, I live in Arlington. I came out when I was 15. I always knew that I was gay. As a kid, I played dress up with the girls and loved Barbies. I really wanted to tell people before, but I couldn't. I finally decided to tell everyone how I really was in the 8th grade because I wanted to start high school as a new me. Telling my Mom was easier than I thought because she always knew. It was hard on my father, though. He took it worse than my Mom did. My friends already knew too, they were just waiting for me to say it. 

"Now, it is fun being a young, gay teen. I have a lot of friends and do the normal stuff that teenagers do. I have a lot of straight friends, too. A lot of my friends don't care that I am gay. They know that even though I am gay, there are barriers that we won't cross as friends. Other people can be all fake towards me because they don't want to be perceived as gay because they are around me. So, we can be friends in private, but not in public. I tell you, I am not really one who is pressed to have a lot of friends, though. If you are close to me, you are close to me. If you are not, you're not. That is the way I carry it. I'm a fun, good person and like to party like everyone else. That's all that should matter. 

"When I grow up, I want to work in fashion. I love fashion. I only read Vogue and W magazine. I grew up with style. My Mom is Vietnamese and black. My grandmother is German and my grandfather is Polish, so I grew up around a lot of different cultures and styles. They have all defined my own personal style. Now, I like to dress the way I like to dress and wear my hair the way that I like to wear my hair. This is just who I am."

Jewel on Her First Time Voting

"When I was born at D.C. General Hospital 55 years ago, my grandmother looked at me and said that I was precious, so she named me Jewel. I have raised my four kids here and am proud of what we have accomplished. For 23 years, I have worked as a cleaner in the Senate. I cleaned the offices of Senators Clinton, Kennedy, and Obama, and a bunch of the committees. 

"You know, Obama's office was simple, but some of these senators have offices filled with antiques, fish tanks, and totem poles. A lot of these Senators are so nice to us and let us leave early on the holidays or let us play music in the offices when we are cleaning. Let me tell you about the time I met Senator Kennedy. Lord, it was so embarrassing! You know how some people need drugs for a boost. Well I need my music. I was playing my music in his office and was in the zone, dancing around. You know what music does to you. Next thing I know, I turn around to see Senator Kennedy, John John, and Caroline there. I ran to turn the music down, but Senator Kennedy was so kind and down to earth. He told me to keep playing my music and was always kind to me after that. Lord, I can tell you stories about some of these other Senators.

"One of the things that really kept me going these years was Obama. He really changed my life. I used to be a shop steward and would say to my people that you need to step up to the plate to make change. You got to do something to make a difference. I have a daughter who is a cop and a son in the military. They are making a difference. In my own way, I am, too. I knew that Obama would make a change for us. At work, I used to wear an Obama t-shirt and my 'Obama Mama' hat even though we were not allowed to wear political stuff. You know me, I had to represent. I even have a tree that someone in Obama's office threw away. I kept is as a way to feel closer to him. I call it my Obama tree.

"People used to tell me, 'You really think Obama is going to win.' I said, 'He is because I am going to vote.' See, I got baptized as a Jehovah's Witness 27 years ago because my husband was of the faith. Up until Obama, I made a decision not to vote and put my trust in God, as is instructed by our faith. The first time I ever voted was for Obama, and if he runs again, I will vote for a second time. I don't look for Obama to do everything, but I know that he is going to make a difference.

"I would like to meet President Obama and say, 'Thank you.' I saw so many of my black sisters and brothers say that he wouldn't make it as President. I always believed and said to them, 'What are you doing? Are you stepping up to the plate? What changes are you making?' I want to thank the President for doing something. "

Register to vote in D.C. here.

Derek on the Greatest Profession on the Planet

"Me and my brother, my father, my grandmother, and my great-grandfather are all from Washington, D.C. My family has a strong connection to the city, but, like many families, we eventually migrated out of the city to the suburbs. I grew up in Maryland and spent most of my childhood there. I grew up in the hard-core scene in D.C., which is funny to think about now that I own a bar. 

"As a teenager, I moved to Charleston, South Carolina, with my father. There is where I started to stray away from the idealistic, straight edge 14 year old and started drinking and partying with kids in high school. As soon as I could, I left South Carolina and came back to D.C. I had no plans or designs of being a wine-and-spirits professional at the time, but I got a job waiting tables at Rocky's in Adams Morgan, which is where Evolve is now. 

"At the time, I was somewhat aimless. I know this is going to come off as a little harsh, but a lot of people in the restaurant industry are aimless, which is a nice way of saying losers. It is an easy way to make cash and support substance-abuse issues. I considered myself one of those losers. Fortunately, I didn't have substance abuse issues, but I didn't know what I wanted to do. Eventually, one of the bartenders left and Rocky asked if I knew how to bartend. I said, 'Yes,' but I really had no idea. She could sense my hesitation and asked me to make her a rum punch on the spot. I grabbed every rum on the rail and threw in some juice and sour mix and garnished it with every piece of fruit I could find. Amazingly, she said it was good and that is how I got my first job bartending. After that, I fell in love with it and knew that it was the job that I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I think that bartending is the greatest profession on the planet. Sometimes it is hard because people can abuse alcohol. There have been instances when I had to cut off people who were my grandparents' age. As much as I lionize drinking culture, I recognize the need for moderation. 

"After Rocky's closed, I went to work at a number of different places and then studied to be a sommelier. In the end, I didn't love being a sommelier as much as I loved being a bartender. While I was still a sommelier, some friends and I started a speakeasy during our days off. Eventually, I came back into bartending when I got involved with The Gibson and eventually opened The Passengerwith my brother, Tom, and Paul Ruppert. When we opened this place, we wanted a bar that was of the District. We were tired of the mentality that D.C. is not good enough, so we thought there was no better way to show pride in the District than putting a D.C. flag on the door with a sign that says, 'God save the District.' We also wanted to incorporate local things, like half-smokes and rickeys.

"The rickey is actually D.C's native cocktail. The gin rickey may be the most popular rickey, but the bourbon rickey was the original, and it was invented at Shoomakers, which was on Pennsylvania Avenue, in 1893. It was described quite literally as a shit hole. One of the bartenders, George C. Williamson, was considered Washington's greatest bartender at the time. The Washington Post called him the 'King of Julep' makers and he invented the rickey. Every President visited Shoemakers except for Rutherford B. Hayes, who was dry. I went and made drinks for President Obama, but can you imagine that presidents actually used to go visit that guy to get a drink. It blows my mind. In his obituary, it said that Williamson likely had a hand in every political decision of the time, as Shoomakers was where all of the politicians and journalists hung out and talked about work. 

"Shoomakers eventually closed because of prohibition, which came to D.C. earlier than the rest of the country. Morris Sheppard, a senator from Texas, wanted to make an example of the District. D.C., now as then, drinks more per capita than any city in the country. Correspondingly, the indicators of drunkenness are 36th or 37th in the nation, which means that we can hold our alcohol." 

Derek Brown is the co-owner of The Passenger at 1021 7th Street Northwest.  He is also a regular contributor to The Atlantic.  

Maxcine on the Michael Jackson House

"The first time I heard Michael Jackson was when Thriller came out. When I first saw the video, I was scared of him as I was just a child. But the more I saw Michael Jackson, I got mesmerized by him and his music. I couldn't believe that this kind of person existed. I bought every CD of his and have seen every performance of his on television. His music captures you and you just can't get enough of it. I never did try to dress like him, but you may catch me doing the moonwalk every once in a while. 

"I was in my sister's room when we learned that he died. I didn't believe it at first. I thought someone was playing a cruel joke on all of us. I just broke down and couldn't stop crying. How could this be? He had kids and a family and so much more to give the world. When he died, I felt like a part of me was gone, too. I wanted to do my part to honor his life and share his legacy with the city 

"I started by putting a picture of him on a chair in my yard. After that, my Mom and sister pitched in and started buying more things to add to the memorial. Other people started contributing as well, and now our house and yard is a shrine to him. People know us as the Michael Jackson house. We want to do our part for the city to keep his memory alive and let everyone know that D.C. loved him and his music. My mother and I are out here playing his music 24/7. We ask that people who come by the house to admire the memorial, dance like him or do something to pay tribute and keep his memory alive. 

"The one thing that I want people to know about Michael Jackson is that whatever you read about him, that was not him. He was the kind of person who would do anything and everything for everyone. For the media to paint him as a child molester is just wrong. His song Childhood says, 'Before you judge me, try hard to get to know me.' He wanted people to get to know him. I want people to know him as a kind and genuine good hearted person. I want D.C. and the world to know the true Michael Jackson." 

The Michael Jackson House is located at 922 8th Street Northeast. Watch Joy, Maxcine's eight year old nephew, dance like Michael in front of the house here.

William on Being a Good and Faithful Servant

"I am originally from South Carolina. I came here by myself when I was 17. I have been living in D.C. about 53 years. I am 71 and the Lord has been good to me. I met my wife here and we had ten children. They all grown now and got their own places in D.C. and Maryland. They occasionally come in and check on me. 

"I raised my kids all over this city: in Northeast, Northwest and Southeast. It was rough in D.C. when I first came here and then it got rougher with all the drugs. Now, things are getting a little better as the police are trying to get them drugs out of this town. When the police got out of their cars and started walking and riding bicycles about four years ago, that made a difference. Hopefully, we can get all of the crime out of here and make this a better place to live. 

"I tried to keep my kids out of this by teaching them discipline and faith. I would sit down and talk with my kids about what was right and wrong. If they did wrong, I would take out the rod. That was back before all of this talk of child abuse. When they stopped people from whooping their children, that's when kids got wild. I was raised with discipline and I raised my kids the same way. If you don't try to keep your children straight, they are going to sassy out on you. They need to know who is the boss. When they grow up to raise their own children, they will thank you for it. 

"I was raised in a Christian home. My father was a preacher. We come from a religious family and I raised my kids in a religious home. Things in this city got worse when they took prayer out of the schools. A lot of kids had parents who worked two jobs and didn't have the time to teach their children about the Lord's prayers. They should put prayer back in schools. The way I see it, you should always keep the Lord first and then everything else will fall in place. I just thank the Lord that I raised my kids before they put the child abuse laws in place and while you could still pray in schools. Now, they are all grown and have good jobs. 

"The older I get, the stronger I believe. Some of the things that I have been through, I would not have made it without the Lord. I was in a car accident and the doctors gave up on me, but the Lord brought me through. Now, I spend my days enjoying Jesus and the space that he gave us to live in. When he calls me home to Heaven, I hope that I will hear him say, 'Well done, William. You have been a good and faithful servant.'

"That's about the best I can tell you." 

William, left, is pictured with his wife, Connie. 

Lonnie on Letting People See Your Greatness

“I love music. I just play music wherever I go and am always carrying an instrument around with me. Today, I got a harmonica, which some people call a mouth organ or harp. I would love to take a piano around, but I can't fit that in my pocket. See, music is healthy for you. I play gospel music, which is good for running the evil spiritsfrom you. I ain't trying to impress nobody when I play on the street, this is just how I am. I don't like to hear all of the negative talking out here, so I prefer to play my music while I am walking on the street. People stop me all of the time and some even give me money. I never ask for it, though. I just play out of love. That is God's honest truth. 

"Whenever I see a mother or father, I stop to tell them to teach their kids to play an instrument. Music helps children be smart in school. It does something to both sides of your brain and will help make your child an A student. Every one of us has so much good stuff inside. You got a gold mine, a diamond mine, and all other kinds of mines down there inside of you. God gives everyone something special. For me, it is music. I know he gave you something, too. 

"I tell you, the graveyard is the richest place in the world. People take with them all kinds of things that they could have done during life: a business they could have done or something to elevate humanity. Don't let your talent die with you. Let people see your greatness."

Sidra on Raising Your Kids Right

"D.C. was great when I was growing up, but this ain't no place to raise children any more. Now that I got two kids, there isn't too much that I like about D.C. I really want to get out of here. Don't much mind where I go, as long as it is not here. I am being for real.

"I was raised uptown in D.C. and then moved to Maryland. I liked it there for my kids because it was safe and quiet, but I be going crazy with nothing to do. I recently got an apartment in Southeast. I really didn't want to move there, but an apartment came through the city where I would be able to live on my own with my two kids.

"I tell you, Southeast ain't nothing but corruption. I don't want to live or raise my children here. It's like every time he gets up out of the house, he gets into it with somebody. My son is four years old. My daughter is one and too young to deal with all of this. What is wrong with these parents where my son can't just go outside and play? These parents ain't raising their kids right.

"See, I teach my children discipline. My son knows what's right and what's wrong. You can see a difference in how I raise my child and how they do. But we all got to suffer from these parents who don't care. That just ain't right. So, I got to shield my child and keep him in the house or bring him to Northwest when he wants to go to the playground. But now that it is getting hot outside, it is too hot to be in the house all of the time. When he does go out, I keep him close where I can watch him.

"I want my kids to be successful. I want them to stay in school and go to college. That is why I am trying to get them away from Southeast. Most of them other kids, I can tell, aren't going to get too far. As for me, I am 26 and starting college. I want to be a nurse and get out of this city."

Sidra is pictured with her son, Mekhi.