Looking into Current Midtown Moves and Empty Storefronts

For my 20 years of existence, I have called Reno my home. I’ve seen the places I grew up going to be torn down and replaced by high rise apartments. I’ve seen a sad and dilapidated Virginia Street become a thriving and fun Midtown. Places I once knew, Shoppers Square, Park Lane Mall, even my best friend’s apartment are no longer here.

It seems everyday I see something news, shiny, and ultimately expensive, arrive in Reno. But, when I think about this I have to ask myself, is this for the best?

My father has lived in Reno his whole life as well. 50 years ago, when he was a child living on Cheney Street, he would run through what we now call Midtown, playing cops and robbers and other games on top of the rooftops of empty buildings on Virginia and Center street. Now, these buildings are home to small businesses that make up the modern Midtown. Arguably, what we have now is better than what “Midtown” was 50 years ago. Right?

Yet, as I walk around Midtown, I can’t help but notice the rise in empty buildings. What happened to the Virginia Street Antique Mall? Why did Willie’s Pasta Shop never open? And, why was Midtown Eats so short lived? In most recent news, why is Recycled Records moving out of Midtown?

Obviously, the answers to these questions are not simple. There are so many factors that go into closing or moving a business. But, after looking further into these businesses through local media reports and social media announcements, I have found that higher rents and upended lease agreements seem to be a common denominator.

Recycled Records has been in Midtown since 2012. Now, all of the sudden, the beloved local shop is moving to the Crosswinds Center across from the Reno Convention Center.

As someone who grew up in Reno, Midtown is a much more desirable location. So why the switch? According to Channel 2 News, the owners attribute this change to a rise in rent, although they do not specify how much the rent has changed. Recycled Records is such a fun and unique place, I am sure it will thrive elsewhere. But, it is sad to hear they have to move out of such a cool location due to rent.

This is not the only business affected by rising rent costs. Virginia Street Antique Mall closed in 2019 after 26 years of being in business. On their Facebook page, they say the newest owner of the building did not want to renew the lease. In 2020, Midtown Eats was faced with a delinquent rent payment notice on the front door, the lease being terminated thereafter. If you’ve ever driven through Midtown, you’ve probably noticed the bright red exterior of Willie’s Pasta Shop. The announcement of this restaurant was back in 2018, yet five years later it is unclear whether or not the restaurant will ever open.

It is a bit disheartening to hear about local businesses having to either close or move away from preferable locations due to rent. These businesses make Reno a home for everyone, creating something more than just bars and casinos. 

It makes me think about the residents of Reno. If businesses can’t survive the rise in rent, how will residents? Personally, as a college student, I have to work two jobs to pay rent, tuition, bills and to just get by. How many other people live like this? Is this just a rough patch or the beginning of a deeper trend?

I like to stay optimistic, though. Hopefully soon we will see more local, all age businesses move into these empty spaces, continuing to make Reno a more welcoming city. Hopefully, rent will stabilize for the residents of Reno. But, for now, I drive through Midtown and reminisce on what once was. 

1st Person Essay by Josie Hester shared with Our Town Reno

An Ode to Late April Snow in Reno

The amount of snow in Reno - and specifically when it’s going to stop - is a hot/cold topic. Most of us probably saw the remains of the snow that fell last night. The continuation of it into April has left many feeling frustrated - and definitely cold.

For followers of the Reno subreddit, there seems to be a post every month either hating on the snow or wondering when it’s going to end. These posts often bring much debate in the comments.

The complaints that follow the snow will probably continue until it ends. There might be literal celebrations when it does.

However, it should be said that complaining only goes so far. Sure, you can blow off some steam and post about it, complaining about the accidents on I-80 and how the snow plows never seem to make it into your neighborhood. The real question here is, what is any of that going to accomplish?

The reality is that our city is at a 4500’ elevation. We’re right next to mountains that are famous for skiing and snowboarding. Mt. Rose Ski Tahoe got from 519 to 658 inches of snowfall this season, according to estimates. Donner Pass, the place that is literally named after an event in which people died because of the snow, is not that far from us.

We’re going to get snow and we’re not going to stop getting snow. Every time someone begins to complain about the snowfall in Reno, or the accidents that happen on the highway, I roll my eyes.

I’m not saying that the weather doesn’t bother me at times. It’s just that you can only hear people complain so many times in the span of two or three months about the weather before it gets old.

Instead, choose to embrace the unique weather that Reno experiences. This will probably bring you more joy than being upset over something none of us can control.

Photos and Essay by Ember Braun

Remembering Growing up Free Near Oddie Blvd.

I grew up in a neighborhood quite close to Oddie Blvd. Aside from the street my house was actually on, it was the only other street I had memorized as a child and knew where it was located. I always thought if I ever got lost I could find my way back home as long as I could find Oddie. 

In my head, Oddie is associated with summer. Whenever I could escape on my bike claiming I was simply going around the block I would ride to the 7-11 on Oddie and Sutro. I would go to buy some ice cream to cool off or simply to stash a snack for later since my mother prohibited junk food. Sometimes I would walk my dogs with my sister and cousin. Each one of us had a leash in hand for the three dogs. I was always afraid to tie my pup outside while I went into the store for fear of someone stealing him.

I suppose it was the fear my parents instilled in me of the area being dangerous. Especially since the notorious Pat Baker Park was around, which before its renovation was a hotspot for crime. Or the shady gas station across the street on Sutro which was constantly changing for some reason even now. I guess it’s called GoMart now, it was a Sinclair before. 

Across the street from the 7-11 was the Livestock Event Center, where the rodeo was held. I never went as a child but I could always hear the cheering and the fireworks all the way from my house. This was another reason Oddie reminded me of summer. The 7-11 there would put out the same rodeo horse mannequin around rodeo season. 

Continuing down Oddie you’ll run into a plaza with stores called Silverada plaza. There’s a Dollar store which I have the faintest memory of it being a 99 Cent Store sometime as a child. There’s a Goodwill, Goodwill bins, a McDonald’s and the empty warehouse that used to be my Dad’s favorite store; Lowe’s. After sitting abandoned for a while it is now the Oddie District. 

Growing up pretty low-income my family had a lot of business to conduct there. I used to be so embarrassed to thrift but now it’s so trendy and people’s opinions changed about it. Later as a teenager, I got my second job working as a cashier for Goodwill. I can for sure remember telling people a thousand times we were located on Oddie and Silverada. Back then it was the only Goodwill in Reno.

While Oddie still extends quite a lot longer going towards Sparks, my Oddie Blvd ended at Teglia’s Paradise park and Paradise Plaza. I have the faintest memory of when the water was clean when I was in preschool and playing in it believe it or not. I believe this was around spring for my preschool graduation. My stronger memories of course are associated with summer. Where we would park in the parking lot for free to get into the Rancho Swap Meet on the weekends since my Dad didn’t want to pay for all of us. Within time, the park became what it is now a park filled with geese and geese poop and murky waters. 

However, it was ever so present even into my adolescence when my middle school High Desert Montessori would take us to do PE since the school didn’t have its own gym or a suitable space to do PE. We would take the infamous Oddie bridge which has recently been destroyed to get to the park safely. 

Meanwhile, every August fairs would be set up in the empty space in the Paradise Plaza. You knew the fair was in town when you would drive down Oddie and see the rides from far away. Since the rodeo was a no-go in my family this was one of the only summer activities to look forward to.

My parents are still in the area and it looks like they don’t plan to go anywhere soon. So I still visit Oddie every day. It’s an area I have memorized like the back of my hand. The surrounding streets were the first streets I learned to drive in. So yeah of course I’m comfortable around them. Even now that Oddie is changing, I’ll hopefully be around to witness another one of its evolutions. 

1st person Essay by Nancy Vazquez shared with Our Town Reno

Me and My Cat Living on Wells Ave. And Avoiding Some Alleyways

I moved to Reno in September of 2022 to start graduate school at the University of Nevada. It took me months to find the perfect one bedroom apartment in my price range.

After countless Zillow searches I finally found the right place for me, located on Wells Avenue. I signed the lease without even seeing the apartment let alone understanding anything about the neighborhood. Now I feel at home living in one of the many alleyways of Wells Avenue.  

In the last six months of occupying this space me and Bad Bunny—as I affectionately named my cat—have experienced the Wells area which feels eclectic, interesting and alive. But to some, like my mailman, Wells avenue can be overwhelming and confusing. 

According to media reports I’ve come across, Wells Avenue is one of only two historic conservation districts in Reno. The Wells Avenue Neighborhood contains some of the oldest homes in Reno south of the Truckee River. It was first developed around 1900 when Sheldon Wells’ sheep ranch was subdivided by his son-in-law, Samuel Wheeler. By 1907, Charles Burke had purchased and subdivided adjacent ranch land and the neighborhood began to take shape.

The history of Wells is rich and while I see the beauty that has developed over the years, the area has been known to be home to some seedy characters. This could be why my mailman, who declined to be interviewed for this article, seems weary during his postal route. Take for example the DUI class located two blocks from where I live, with men always loitering in front smoking cigarettes and—ironically—drinking beers. One day while walking past a particular group of men I hear “Listen dude, I would let you ride my bitch before I let you ride my Harley.” This has made me avoid that side of the street entirely.

Anonymous Contribution to Our Town Reno

Finding Community and Recharging with Self Love at the Holland Project

In February, I had the opportunity to sit in on Alison Szarko’s (@GlobalSelfLoveClub on Instagram) self love workshop at the Holland Project. For three hours, we dedicated ourselves to learn how to manage stress and burnout, all the while being vulnerable with each other. When we think of self love, oftentimes we think about doing face masks, and running bubble baths. While these are beautiful forms of taking care of yourself, the idea of self care also runs much deeper. 

Alison Szarko, a doctoral candidate at UNR, who has been studying behavioral psychology, practices ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy) which has been used to help many manage burnout and stress. Self love from an ACT perspective means practicing “value based living”, which means, “1.)identifying what one truly wants their life to be about or what’s truly important to them, and 2.) once one knows what matters to them, giving them the psychological tools they need to pursue value-based actions, even in the presence of unavoidable or hypothetical stressors.”

“I work in the process improvement department at Renown, and our big focus is productivity, but we constantly forget about the human factor and the human element that goes into productivity,” Szarko said. 

“Everyone is burnt out. It’s not an individual problem, it’s a cultural problem because we’re all moving too fast now,” she added.  “So I guess the big takeaway is reminding people that we’re humans and not robots and we need rest, and we need time to reflect, and also that work is just one part of our life but it's not an entire part of our lives.” 

After the workshop, I was also able to speak with Alisha Funkhouser,  the director of education and youth programs at the Holland Project. I started off by asking her how the volunteer driven all ages venue survived through the pandemic. 

“It’s been tough, a big part of Holland is music and shows,” she said.  “It really forced us out into the community even more so than before. It’s kinda helped us learn how to pivot, and become more flexible with things and I think we’ve become stronger coming out of it. We are working with a lot more communities that we’re really grateful to be a part of now. The pandemic really showed us what the needs were in the community, and the communities that maybe weren't being served. So I think that it kinda helped us in that aspect, [to] figure out what we could be doing and what we could be doing better.”

With pivoting in mind, I also asked what new additions were being added to Holland. 

“We’re doing a lot more things with younger kids now which is cool. Before it was mostly like older teens to young adults but yeah it's been nice to be able to bring in some of the younger kids into the fold and provide things for them to be able to do and get involved and introducing Holland to them at a younger age. And then, with that obviously you have families that are now becoming more and more involved which is really cool to see. I love that kind of stuff.”

A Spring Kid Craft camp for the last week of March is an example of attracting younger patrons.

“Also something that we are always thinking about even pre-pandemic but I think even more so as the city changes so much and so rapidly is just like considering our neighborhood that we are physically in,” Funkhouser said. “Who are the people who are in this neighborhood, who need this neighborhood, and making sure that we’re doing things that are supporting them and supporting the neighborhood vs like taking from them you know?” 

“Our main goal has been to provide access. Access to arts, access to music, access to workshops like we did today to people of all ages,” Funkhouser said of the Holland Project. You can find their updates @hollandreno on Instagram.

Funkhouser who was raised in Reno said there was no equivalent when she was growing up.

“It was hard to find anything to do as a young person that wasn't just like loitering at a casino or like trying to go see a band at a bar that I’m not allowed to go in you know? Or like convincing my mom to drop me off at someone's weird basement to go see a band play. I think the main role of Holland is again providing that safe space for people to feel like they can come get involved, feel like they are accepted and a part of it. Whether that's like creating their own event and bringing community together or just coming and being a part of something.”

I genuinely loved every part of the self love workshop I attended, and I truly appreciate the act of accessibility when it comes to sharing mental health resources.

Reporting by Arianna Pride shared with Our Town Reno

Park Place Diaries Part 3: "Luxury" Housing is the problem, not the solution

When I first moved to Reno in 2020, you could drive down North Virginia Street and it was mostly empty dirt patches and pieces of the university campus. You could see the sun and the sky shining through your window. It was peaceful and dare I say for Reno, it was cozy.

Now, the 12-story apartment complex, The Dean Reno, blocks every inch of sunlight shining on a large section of Virginia Street, right across the way from the E.L Wiegand Fitness Center.

The new complex is one of several now towering over UNR’s campus, casting a large shadow on all beneath it — there’s got to be a metaphor in that intimidating image somewhere.

It’s depressing to drive through that road now, permanently seeing what is deemed officially as the “UNR Crane,” hearing the early morning blare of construction and avoiding rubbing your car side mirrors against grimy orange blockades extending all the way down the road. When will it all be finished so we can live a peaceful life again?

The answer seems to be never.

Among “luxury” student housing, Park Place became ready for move-in last year, while HERE Reno just started leasing this year and yet another complex The Edison is expected to open its doors in 2023.

Further away from the university, but still close by new buildings all have the same luxurious claims: places like The Onyx 695, The Retreat Luxury Apartments, Vida Luxury Living Apartments, Summit Ridge Luxury Apartments, The View Luxury Apartments, The DeLuxe Apartments and Sierra View. “Luxury” is used so much it just feels like a filler word that’s being used so apartments can start their rates at $1000 a month per person.

As a previous resident of Park Place at Reno, I can say the amenities did feel luxurious — there was a large common space on the roof with a pool table, a movie theater, a gym, tanning booths, study rooms, a pool, two hot tubs, a basketball court, etc. 

However, paying $905 to live with four other people and have a parking space that wasn’t guaranteed was dreadful. Not to mention, the complex required students to live in Circus Circus for roughly a month to two months before they even got to move in. And as a resident that lived there the first year it was being built, I got the luck of the draw with the “brand new, luxury” feel.

And trust me, I tried looking elsewhere that was near campus. Rates at another complex Identity were scratching the $1000 per person mark for a four bedroom apartment. Uncommon was knocking a $900 rate and Canyon Flats was smack dab in the middle of a risky part of town, something I had to consider as a female student who walks everywhere.

So I lowered my standards of apartments, looking for non-luxurious ones farther away from campus. The Republic and the YOUnion had roughly the exact same amenities as Park Place — I guess it’s not so luxurious at all. 

At one point people probably thought the Republic and the YOUnion were luxurious apartments, and now students refer to them as the “cheap” apartments. They are less than a decade old.

What’s going to happen when the word “luxury” is used so often that it doesn’t start to sound as shiny?

However, it is not just students like me being priced out. Reno residents are struggling with finding affordable housing right now, and luxury housing complexes are not helping the problem.

Luxury apartments with prices starting at “the great price of $999” are not going to help people who cannot survive with a rent more expensive than three months of a car payment.

Maybe the goal of luxury apartments is to make the city better by making it prettier and bringing big money makers into the city to spur attention onto Reno. But what about prioritizing people already here?

Wake up and smell the roses, Reno, luxury housing is not the solution. It’s the problem.

Our Town Reno Citizen’s Forum contribution by Jaedyn Young

Park Place Diaries Part 2: "Luxury" Living with Constant Trash and Vandalism

Footprints marking the walls as high up as the ceiling (above). This is how I find Park Place at Reno almost every Monday, following yet another weekend of whatever it is which caused this.

Crushed cans, beer bottles, trash not put into bins, vandalism here and there, cigarette butts, this is what “luxury living” for students is like at Park Place where I live.

Their website says it’s “a living environment that will elevate your lifestyle, foster lifelong friendships, and make your college experience unforgettable. Here, you are welcomed to a community where we set a new standard for your student experience – unlike any you have ever seen.” Living here though, the side I see is another one.

In the past, they have made efforts to rectify this problem by closing down certain amenities or sending out firm emails to the residents about their displeasure with the situation. This has not stopped these situations from happening again and again.

It is disheartening to say the least, to see more and more of the same vandalizing acts take place without any repercussions or change.

More than anything I think this issue shows an undeniably privileged side of the people living at Park Place. Yes, Park Place could be doing more to make sure this issue does not keep popping up, but in turn those living in the building could also make more of an effort to take care of the place they call home.  Unless radical changes are made I that fear no solution is in sight currently, and things will continue on as they have been.

Citizen’s Forum Contribution by Olivia Sullivan

ALPR Surveillance Cameras on Reno's Streets, What are these and what's their purpose?

At intersections across Reno, it’s common to see cameras bolted to the horizontal bars of traffic lights. What are these cameras for, and what are they watching?

Generally, there are two types of cameras at critical intersections across Reno. Traffic cameras, which monitor the flow of traffic and help dictate when lights should turn red or green, are on type. Usually, these cameras are black and spherical, and appear to be similar to many surveillance cameras used today. However, they do not record video, and thus police in Nevada are not able to use their footage as evidence of a crime, such as running a red light. 

The other types of cameras are automated license plate readers (ALPRs). These are white, tubular, and point down towards the street. These cameras take a photo with a timestamp of every license plate that drives through the intersection, giving police the ability to identify and track vehicles. Both the Reno Police Department and the Washoe County Sheriff’s Office utilize ALPRs. 

ALPRs can either be fixed on a traffic light or placed on police vehicles, with the Reno Police Department reporting in 2019 they had two vehicles equipped with ALPRs.

ALPR at N. Virginia and 4th. Photo by Michael Rubio.

By tracking Reno’s motorists, this system represents a clear privacy invasion. However, despite this, it’s unclear whether these are effective at all. According to data from 2016 and 2017, of the hundreds of thousands of license plates recorded by the Reno Police Department, only around 0.2% of them produced “hits,” or vehicles of interest to police. Despite this, the Reno City Council approved the use of $117,000 of federal grant money to expand Reno’s ALPR system in 2019.  

ALPRs at the intersection of N. McCarran and El Rancho. Photo by Michael Rubio.

Additionally, it’s common for these cameras to have false hits. According to the Brennan Center for Justice, a study from Vallejo, CA, found that 37% of hits from fixed ALPRs and 35% of hits from mobile ALPRs were misreads. Sometimes, these misreads lead to false arrests and lawsuits. In the case of Green v. City and County of San Francisco, police conducted a “felony stop,” holding a woman at gunpoint and putting her into handcuffs after a misread from an ALPR led them to believe she was driving a stolen vehicle. 

ALPRs at the intersection of Keystone and 1st.  Photo by Michael Rubio.

Also of concern is the sharing of data with other agencies, particularly ICE, or Immigrations and Customs Enforcement. When that $117,000 was approved for ALPRs in 2019, spokespeople for the police and the City of Reno told the Reno Gazette Journal that information from ALPRs is not shared with ICE or other federal agencies. That turned out not to be true, as public documents collected by students at UNR proved that the Reno Police Department was sharing ALPR data with Homeland Security Investigations, a component of ICE, the San Diego sector of the U.S. Border Patrol, and dozens of other police departments across the country. 

As of now, it’s unclear how many ALPRs there are across Reno, and where they all are located. A public records request was filed last September in the hopes of determining exactly that, but there has been no response from the City of Reno yet. 

ALPRs at the intersection of N. McCarran and Clear Acre. Photo by Michael Rubio.

Ultimately, these cameras record indiscriminately, tracking everyone regardless of suspicion. While it is true that there is no expectation of privacy in public, ALPRs gather data on Reno’s citizens and visitors everyday, with a negligible impact on crime. So, make sure to look up and think about that the next time you drive through an intersection in Reno and the next time you have concerns about local budgets and law enforcement.

Citizen’s Forum Contribution by Mike Rubio

Park Place Diaries Part 1: Being Forced into the Circus Circus First, Followed by Disappointment

Standing behind me in the elevator to my room in the Circus Circus Hotel and Casino were three men. They smelled of alcohol and were giggling as I stood staring at the buttons on the elevator.

“You look like a strawberry,” said one of the men behind me, followed by a sniff. “And you smell like one too.”

I stood terrified. My red hair and strawberry printed shirt had become a target of his cat-calling.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as the doors opened to let me out of my misery.

I ran to my room, scared they were going to follow me. That was just one of the experiences I had at the Circus Circus while being forced to live there, while my expected lodging at the Park Place wasn’t ready.

Hundreds of students and Reno residents were forced into rooms due to Park Place's slowed development.

Circus Circus remained my home for two months as I waited for my apartment complex to finish construction, and I was upset that I was stuck there.

For the 2021 to 2022 school year, I fell victim to the delayed construction at Park Place at Reno student housing. Park Place marketed “luxury” to the young students who signed leases with them, but soon, luxury fell into disrepair.

My overall experience at Park Place was subpar for all they marketed, but for now I will focus on the delayed move-in experience.

The complex was not even finished with construction at the time I signed my lease, but it seemed like the perfect option for me. It was close to campus, had amazing amenities and they pinky promised it would be ready in time.

In February, I started my apartment hunting process and the process was quick, but not because I wanted it to be. Through aggressive marketing tactics I was coerced into signing a lease after one day of contact. I was 18, I had never signed a lease before and they could tell. I signed away over $900 a month to a not-even-built apartment complex.

The following three days I was sent form after form, which I signed blindly because they kept threatening to raise fees if I did not sign by a certain date. 

The move-in date was rapidly approaching, but the construction was moving too slowly to keep up with all of the students waiting to move in. In early July renters received a message that move-in was delayed until Sept. 15. I picked up my phone immediately and called my roommate.

“Did you see the email?” I said. “We have to move in to Circus Circus.”

This clown face greeted me everyday during my drive home from campus.

They blamed COVID-19 and supply chain issues. Yes, they did offer us a $1000 stipend, but we still had to pay our $900 rent for every month we were stuck in the hotel room.

We were just thrown back into the living arrangements that we sought to avoid: dorm life. I filled out our form and we were put into a double room. 

We were called “troopers” throughout the whole process as they filled their emails with flowery words and empty promises.

Move-in was Aug. 30 and we were greeted by two queen sized beds with sterile white sheets. We made our way to the common area, which included some tables and chairs, a microwave and fridge. Although, it quickly became trashed by disgruntled college students. 

The whole experience only went downhill. I was locked out of my room because the battery died in the lock, everyone shared the same hot, humid laundry room with washing machines without locks and the shuttle to campus was always late.

The shuttle was supposed to come every 10 minutes, but that schedule was never kept.

The hotel food court became my dinner table, eating there almost everyday, having Panda Express broccoli beef to get my “greens”.

The only thing we had to look forward to was the move-in date, but those hopes were quickly quashed when we got an email that move-in was moved to Sept. 24. I was one of the lucky ones who got the earlier move-in date—others were forced to stay in the hotel till Nov. 12.

I choked down my Panda Express for the next nine days and quickly packed my bags for the long awaited move–in. 

In the actual complex, I was greeted with light gray walls, thin as paper, cramped parking spaces and the smell of wet paint.

For an apartment complex marketed as “luxury” my first impression was anything but. 

That’s the issue with the recent influx of “luxury student housing.” It's really anything but. Their tactics to have students sign leases are aggressive, preying on young people with no contractual experiences. 

This is also not a one off experience. Complexes are being erected at a light speed. Uncommon, Canyon Flats, The Dean, The Edison, the list goes on. These were all built quickly with the same formulaic structure: chalky gray walls and geometric construction. Move-in dates were delayed for several of these as well, while all charge upwards of $900 for paper thin walls and fake-nice front desk managers who “understand you”.

Take this as a word of advice from a student who has been burned before: slow down when choosing living arrangements.

Our Town Reno Citizen’s Forum contribution by Emerson Drewes

My Parents, Local Business Owners Staying Local with Rebar

Growing up whenever someone would ask me what my parent’s business was, I always received the return question of “what is rebar?” My parents own a local business called Northern Nevada Rebar. It is their livelihood and I have watched them go through the challenges and opportunities of being business owners in Reno. 

When I was kid, I never understood what it meant to own a local business. I didn’t understand what my parents experienced day in and day out. As I have grown up, I have learned more and more about Reno and how my parents have managed their business through changing times. 

My parents moved to Reno from Vegas when my dad got a job transfer to help build the Silver Legacy. There was a flood in 1997 that forced my dad’s company to move back to Vegas which prompted him to open up his own rebar company. 

I always enjoyed the days that my mom would take me to NNR because I knew that I would be able to play on the computers and use my mom's red stamps. I distinctly remember my dad would come home with large stacks of rebar plans that he would read at the dinner table late at night. 

Ed Doyle, my dad, stands next to a steel machine intended to cut and bend pieces of rebar. This photo was taken in November of 2006. Photo provided by Billie Doyle.

Rebar essentially is a steel bar which has a main purpose of helping prevent concrete from cracking and helps to strengthen foundations. It is put in place before concrete is poured and is often found in buildings, bridges, and other types of structures.

There are several different sizes and types of rebar. Concrete when poured without the presence of rebar is prone to cracking which is very dangerous considering the concrete blocks can then move. There is a long life span on rebar. It can normally last from 50-100 years depending on how it was fabricated and manufactured. 

The delivery of rebar from NNR is transported throughout northern Nevada and California. 

Cages of rebar are lifted from a forklift onto a NNR tractor trailer to be transported to a job site. Photo provided by Billie Doyle.

NNR has done several job sites for the community that have included public schools, UNR buildings, car dealerships, and warehouses. 

Recently I talked to my parents about the growth of Reno and what it is like to be a Reno business owner in 2022 especially after COVID-19. The pandemic brought many challenges considering there was a shortage of workers and social distancing was required on job sites.  

There are about 50 people employed at NNR. This includes office, shop and union employees. Depending on the season, the number of employees ranges from 50 to 80. 

Now coming out of the pandemic, there is increased growth in Reno which means an increase in competition and a decrease in material availability. There are also shortages in workforce and labor.  

A recent opportunity as of right now is the high demand for the fabrication and manufacturing of rebar which allows NNR to stay busy with new jobs. 

Inflation has affected the production of rebar considering the price of material has doubled immensely. My parents have watched Reno grow more and more throughout the years especially with the recent local development of large companies such as Google, Tesla, and Apple. 

“Growth is inevitable but with growth comes demand for housing,” my mother tells me.  My parents feel that Reno doesn’t have the adequate infrastructure for the amount of people moving here. 

Being a business owner in Reno in 2022 comes with many challenges as well as advantages. My parents advocate for being involved in the community and remaining 100% local. 

1st Person reporting by Alyssa Doyle for Our Town Reno

The Mural on the Wall Is Expensive: Reno and its Artwashing Issues

Price hikes in Reno have been affecting a lot of tenants in the area, but what happens when another factor speeds this process up? What if it’s a pretty mural that even bars the artist themselves out of being able to afford local housing?

These photos are of the Civic Center Apartments, my last apartment building in Midtown. I spent three years living at the Civic Center, and the only time the rent increased significantly was when this mural (in full below) was added onto the building.

The mural on the outside of the Civic Center Apartments which coincided with the rent going up. Photo by Mariya Dawson.

There were other events that went into the price increase – including the general inflation within Reno and around the country, as well as a shortage in housing – but the act of “artwashing” is also a factor that is not often talked about.

The act of “artwashing” is recognized as using artists and their work to obstruct and sugarcoat actions by an individual, organization, or even the government – and is mostly in reference to gentrification.

One thing’s for sure: In 2022, there’s a rather hefty price to pay to have art on the streets if it’s in a neighborhood or a building near you.

Citizen’s Forum contribution by Mariya Dawson

Reno's Hostile Architecture, A Mounting Problem with Possible Solutions

It seems as if boulders and “artistic” unconventional benches are popping up all around the Biggest Little City. The reason is clear, it’s to prevent people with nowhere else to go from congregating and staying for hours on end in certain areas. This essay will talk about a few examples of this hostile architecture, as well as some solutions that we can take to help the unhoused.

Hostile architecture is not a new talking point in American discourse. To put it simply, hostile architecture involves using taxpayer dollars to implement different measures to restrict the houseless population of the city from sleeping on the streets and in public spaces comfortably. If you’ve ever visited the Reno area of northern Nevada, you have seen many unhoused struggling to survive.

A major way to implement hostile architecture is to divide the seats on a bench. Public benches are everywhere and by dividing the seats with an arm rest, it ensures that someone who needs to sleep on these benches can not lay comfortably, as they would have to lay over the raised arm rests in order to even lay down. 

The divided bus seats at an RTC bus station on Virginia Street.

If we’re being quite honest, these arm rests make the benches uncomfortable to sit in as well. Take this RTC bus stop for example, with a cover above the top, it offers protection from the weather, whether rain, sun, or snow. This seems as if it would be a good place to rest overnight until you look down at the seats.

This bus stop has two aspects of hostile architecture. As mentioned earlier, there are armrests dividing the seats that prevent someone from laying down. But, if they are crafty enough to crawl through the armrests, they will notice that due to the seats being divided into sections of three, either their head or feet will end up dangling off due to the shorter length. 

So, if the unhoused population of Reno are not able to sleep on the benches around town, then where are they going to sleep? This brought me to the Nevada Cares Campus. As I walked up to the campus, I saw a few people laying on the dirt trying to get some rest. But, as I walked further I saw many large boulders that lined the outer fences of the campus. This is very ironic. 

Boulders line the outskirts of the Nevada Cares Campus on 4th Street. 

The campus promotes a safe place for the unhoused, offering food and shelter to men and women who are in need of it, but around the sides of the campus they put up boulders to prevent them from resting nearby if they don’t want to be inside. This is very discouraging to see. 

Boulders fill planters at the RTC CitiCenter on 4th Street. 

Boulders are a common theme in hostile architecture. By putting boulders over patches of dirt or planters, it takes away a solid area that if you needed to, you can throw a blanket down over the dirt and lay down. The softness of the dirt can provide more relief than the cold concrete. With the boulders resting in these spots, it obviously prevents an unhoused person from laying on the dirt. 

Divided benches line the Truckee River walk. 

An observation that I made while visiting different spots in Reno is the real inconsistency of the hostile architecture. For example, take the benches on the Truckee River walk. There are plenty of benches to view the river, with the arm rests in between the seats, but not even 50 yards down the path there is a pod of benches that have no arm rests, which makes them sleepable. Along with this, across the street from many of large bus stops with the split benches, there are smaller bus stops, with standard benches. 

A regular set of benches on the Truckee River walk. 

Throughout my life I have been lucky enough to never be affected by homelessness. However some people did not get my luck. I can assure you that the homeless people do not want to be without stable housing. By using this hostile architecture, it demonizes the unhoused. Maybe instead of pumping taxpayer dollars on random boulders and uncomfortable benches, our city government can provide some sort of relief for the unsheltered.

Another bench on 4th street, only made for one person with an “artistic” design.

The first step to take in slowing the rate of homelessness is to have a little empathy. These people are human like you and me who don’t want to be in this situation. All it takes is to lose your main source of income, have a medical calamity with mounting bills without the necessary resources, have your rent raised too high, or get foreclosed upon to become homeless. Having the empathy to put yourself in their shoes can drastically change your view upon the hostile architecture in the city. 

Next, I would recommend instead of using funding to create this architecture, instead funnel that money into more affordable housing, or create more shelters of different varieties around the city that the unhoused can go rest at to have a meal and sleep for the night with security. For example, look at Houston, Texas. Houston has a housing first program that works to move the unhoused and families from shelters into a permanent housing situation.

Here’s a snippet from a New York Times article: “During the last decade, Houston, the nation’s fourth most populous city, has moved more than 25,000 homeless people directly into apartments and houses. The overwhelming majority of them have remained housed after two years. The number of people deemed homeless in the Houston region has been cut by 63 percent since 2011, according to the latest numbers from local officials. Even judging by the more modest metrics registered in a 2020 federal report, Houston did more than twice as well as the rest of the country at reducing homelessness over the previous decade. Ten years ago, homeless veterans, one of the categories that the federal government tracks, waited 720 days and had to navigate 76 bureaucratic steps to get from the street into permanent housing with support from social service counselors. Today, a streamlined process means the wait for housing is 32 days.”

Maybe Reno needs to work harder to continuously look at programs which are working rather than perpetually adding to our hostile architecture.

Citizen’s Forum contribution by Patrick McNabb

A Queer Latina's Plea for Yes on Nevada's Ballot Question 1

I grew up in a rural town, where I met people with different experiences and opinions than my own.

Living as a closeted queer Latina wasn’t always easy, and I had my fair share of rude comments and fear that I would be discriminated against for my gender identity. While I tended to be vocal and clap-back, it felt helpless. There was nothing I could do to make people realize that we are all truly, “created equal”. Until now- 

Nevada’s Ballot Question 1 will change the Nevada Constitution to allow every person, regardless of race, color, creed, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, age, disability, ancestry or national origin to have equal rights and be protected against discrimination by this state of any of its political subdivisions. This is Nevada’s next step to making sure the U.S. Congress can ratify the 28th Amendment, to make it true that we are all created equal. 

Many people have similar experiences as my own. This is why Nevada’s midterm is so important, and why I need you to vote.  By voting “Yes” on Question 1, we can help those in the same helpless position I was in.

Students, you can register and vote on campus all week, until November 8th, with the UNR General Election Poll Location from 7am to 7 pm and catch the [recent] Vibrant Voices Podcast to hear more on why you should vote yes on Question 1. 

Citizen’s Forum Contribution by Lily Andrade

How the Reno Burrito Project Just Might Change My Life

Below is a journal entry from the second time I volunteered with the local non-profit Reno Burrito Project. After small beginnings, it has become a community network devoted to distributing food and resources to the houseless population in Reno, dispersing 500 burritos to those in need every other Sunday. This entry will act as documentation of where I started in this whole journey of attempting to define what it means to ethically give back, connect with my community, and be a good person without having to give up space in my own life for coping and growing. 

Reno Burrito Project is very intentional with one of the words in their brand name: project. It means a mission, aim, or purpose accomplished through the collaboration of a network of people. While a project can be started with one pair of hands, it can make waves with a couple dozen more.

Projects take time, they take commitment, and they also take belief. To offer part of yourself from start to finish means you have faith in its end result. So imagine what type of impact would happen if we made helping our fellow human beings a project? Consider the difference between the wave one person makes, versus ten or twenty. Consider how our lives and surroundings would change if we had an entire community of people committing and believing in their fellow human beings.

Starting higher education was a choice that took a lot of sacrifice. I almost anticipated myself suddenly taking the one class that would make me want to drop out of college or give up on all the work I had done so far. Especially being the first person in my family to pursue higher education, the daunting statistics created a web of anxiety I had to pierce through before I could even begin to picture success. But weirdly enough…that moment, that dreaded class, never happened. 

The more I learned about the ethics, purpose, and power of journalism, the more drawn in I was. The deeper I immersed myself, the more I knew I had found passion within passion within passion in a field contingent on sharing human experiences and forming connections. I instantly began to understand that journalism isn’t just about being a conduit to the people for news and their sense of awareness- even though that’s a big part of it. I learned that journalism is also about bearing witness. Not just to the big, fantastical things in life that have fifteen other reporters there; but to the moments that people in our own community experience each day they live their life. 

I will admit, I’m not sure if live or survive is the better word to use there…

Journalism is about making people feel seen. Feel heard. Feel valued. In a modern pandemic of loneliness, the simple act of not just seeing someone, but seeing someone, can go a long way. So, when I met a person who created an organization for exactly that: seeing, valuing, even loving people for the sake of being people, it was honestly the most fulfilling opportunity I had experienced in my adult life.

I’m also a person that is all about listening to your gut. As I am an individual who tends to pit their body against their mind, the part I trust most within myself is my intuition. And sometimes you meet someone that you honestly feel like [they] can completely transform your life. I was blown away that from day one, one person and their organization could make me feel that way.

Blaize created the Reno Burrito Project in 2020. It started with just him, and four burritos. Even with their first group of people, the Reno Burrito Project team was only able to roll and distribute fifteen burritos to unsheltered community members in Reno. The organization now rolls and distributes three to five hundred burritos every other Sunday. 

Let’s look at the mission of Reno Burrito Project. It’s astounding that in such a short period of time, I feel like I have stumbled upon the path that may change my life. 

I personally believe that right now is a pretty pivotal time in the social and environmental climate. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t cause me anxiety; I feel like I’m working forty hours a week to survive and not to live. It’s difficult to plan for and aspire for an uncertain future.

So really, truthfully, honestly, it’s difficult for me to feel like I’m operating with purpose all the time. And you might be able to relate to that. 

But the thing about Blaize, is that he’s likely seen just as much tragedy as I have; he knows the heights of human selfishness and has acted witness to the poverty, sadness, and loss in our own town. 

But despite knowing the heights of human evil, that does not deter him from working towards the heights of human compassion. I’ve never met a person with such an all encompassing devotion to people; loving them, seeing the best in them, offering constant space to improve- all while maintaining the balance in his own life to have space for personal enjoyment and care. Hope can be hard to come by, so when you meet someone who isn’t just hopeful, but spreads hope in a contagious way, it’s something you don’t let go of.

Let’s talk about what the day looked like.

It started with rolling the burritos; the space we were making the burritos in was donated, as was all the meat, beans, tortillas and rice. The people rolling the burritos were all volunteers, as were the people who cooked the food beforehand (ya know, outside of the insane amount of food Blaize himself cooks). 

I was surrounded by people who virtually had no common ground with me- opposite majors, different ages, different economic classes, but we were connected through one mutual thing: the desire to do and see better. We had rich conversations in an environment that not only allowed for thoughtful discussion but encouraged it.

Then, we loaded up wagons with burritos, water, clothes, and other donated pantry goods. 

There wasn’t much structure to our process. If someone looked hungry- determined usually through the bearing of every item they own in shopping bags, carts, or boxes- we offered them food and water. If they wanted one or ten burritos, we let them take what they needed. If they were willing, we asked their names, had conversations, told them about our day and they told us about theirs. 

While working our way down Virginia Street, I met Thomas, Michelle, Tyrese, Michael, AJ, Sam, Bethany, another Tyrese, Lindsey, Mickey and many more.

Today I looked into blue, brown, green, and hazel eyes and I saw stories and lifetimes and pain and loss. I saw joy and hope, but more often hunger. I saw relationships- mothers and daughters, boyfriends and girlfriends, best friends and only friends. These relationships made me ponder on the adaptability of community: it made me wonder how many of these relationships were formed on the streets and how many of them existed beforehand. Either way, one conclusion is that a sense of community can form anywhere, and the other meant that community can be sustained anywhere. It showed me that humans have a desire to take care of each other. 

Today, I spoke and I listened. Then stopped and really listened. Today I saw person after person after person.

People spoke about their workweek, they spoke about the last time they ate. They laughed and showered us with thank yous and you’re awesomes and remembered our names when saying goodbye. I saw person after person after person.

As I had these conversations, these people didn’t lack anything that made them a person: they had names and families and favorite foods and loved warm food just as much as the rest of us do. The only thing that these people were missing were walls around them and a roof above their heads. It was the way they had to savor each bite of their burrito, because they had zero clue when they would be able to obtain their next.

The other thing I kept encountering, was the justification these people kept trying to make for why they were deserving of food. The jobs they worked, how they’ll pay it forward, why they were in their situation to begin with. But, every time, I found myself stopping them, insisting you don’t need a reason, take as much as you’d like. But, that also forced me to confront a little deeper each time that we live in a society where one has to prove their worth in order to be granted kindness. 

Or really just to be granted decency. 

I get bogged down with that thought, with the weight of the issue of poverty, houselessness, food insecurity- all of it. Yet I think the main takeaway from today wasn’t about showing me how much sadness exists out there, but instead the avenues for hope to blossom. But we have to choose to walk down that avenue in order to get there.

If we as humans can’t take care of our fellow humans purely for the sake of them being humans, then we’re losing out on the heights of human kindness we ourselves can reach when we work as a collective. We’ll never come near the change we can accomplish if we use our own limitations as a reason not to push ourselves to help others. 

The purpose of this project, of any project, really, isn’t to say you should give despite the fact it may disadvantage you financially, emotionally, or professionally. The purpose is to motivate others to consider if they have space and time in their life, today, to do something for another person. 

As Blaize reminded me, it’s not how largely you give, it’s about whether your generosity is proportionate with what you have. Of course, no person can determine how much space you have to give in your life besides you, but if you end up answering that question honestly, not only will you find room to offer kindness to those around you, but each day will become more gratifying because of it. 

Let’s be honest- caring and having empathy for people is no easy task. It requires stepping further than just acknowledging when a situation sucks; it’s sharing the pain in the most honest way you can within the capacity of your own lived experiences; BUT when you are limited by that capacity, ask yourself why. Consider the loss of another person, and imagine that level of loss in your own life. Empathy forces you to confront the comfort that you've had the opportunity to live in. Empathy connects people on the basis of one thing: humanity. And if we work towards that level of empathy, maybe we will find our polarization, our divide with each other, much more obsolete. 

This also reminds me of another thing Blaize had said to me- what’s wrong with doing something good to feel good about yourself? If you do something kind that uplifts another human, even if just for a moment, what’s wrong with sharing that act of kindness and potentially helping someone else pay it forward? 

The space you provide in your life each day for empathy, is an opportunity to inspire those around you. If we, as a collective, begin to reframe our mentality to this perspective, our possibilities are boundless. 

And maybe, as I live each day a little kinder, a little more open, a little more generous, I’ll see a change. Maybe, despite my gender or my sexuality or my income or my clothes or quite literally anything else that stops someone from connecting with me, I’ll see people.

I’ll see people and they’ll see a person back, every. single. time. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll change my life.

Writing and photography for Our Town Reno by Vanessa Ribeiro

Prime Riverfront in Reno, from Mansions to Tents

Anyone strolling along the Truckee River through Riverside can’t help but look up and admire the “mansions on the bluff” as the Historic Reno Preservation Society has named them on their popular historical walk.

As in most cities with an urban river (minus LA !) waterfront, or water overlook, houses have always been sought after. Reno, a city that at times seems to be destroying much of its architectural heritage, is lucky to have managed to keep this beautiful historical district mainly intact.

First developed by Senator Francis Newlands at the turn of the 19th century, this area, part of Old Southwest, is also known by his name, Newlands Heights.

Senator Newlands, while a Nevada representative, helped develop the Bureau of Reclamation, which led to the irrigation and dams that allowed dry Northern Nevada to be developed for colonizing expansion. He also wrote the resolution which annexed Hawaii, a sovereign nation, to the United States, without a referendum of their people. He was an avowed white supremacist who tried to repeal the Fourteenth Amendment. His name still remains on a marker in Newlands Park on California Ave.

On the northern side of the river, looked down on by the bluff, a growing number of our unhoused neighbors make their homes until they are moved on. (None of these encampments photographed are still in use).

 Also, at the end of Riverside past Booth Ave. is an abandoned craftsman style house and huge parking area behind a chain link fence. It seems to be a perfect area for a neighborhood public garden which would bring more needed green to an area next to the river and provide a good area to manage runoff from rain.  The property is owned by the city, who recently, at the July 20 City Council meeting, considered the potential disposition of this prime development -possible property. 

For more information on Newlands Heights Historic District, and other historical areas of Reno (some sadly destroyed now) go to RenoHistorical.org or try their great phone app RenoHistorical.

Our Citizen’s Forum contribution and photos by Dina Wood

Dani DeRosa, My Experiences at the County Jail and Trying to Avoid a Return

Having being cornered at the 4th street bus station when dehydrated and simply trying to meet my visiting friend, the last thing I was expecting to do that day was shouting things like "neurodivergent lives matter, BLM please just take us with you," as I was arrested for trespassing. People still don't understand developmental disabilities, especially for assigned female at birth people. Many females are middle aged when they finally earn their proper diagnosis. It is easier to diagnose women with personality disorders than assess for things like autism and even ADHD.

PART 1

I did not have to survive by drinking from a jail toilet this time. A month I’d been in that hole last time getting attacked, brought in for “trespassing” at a bus stop and yelling at cops for getting in my space when I was trying to go home. I’d just wanted to find my friend who was visiting from out of town.

Between the two jail visits I was hallucinating from heat stroke in a shed where I tried to build a temporary shelter.

Sick, prone to dizzy spells, unable to find water, delirious. Becoming homeless can happen to anyone. You may be so lucky to survive it.

I find myself now on a perch, what I’ve been calling temporary respites. A week in a hotel room. Gouging into my precious savings. But surviving above desperation and therefore priceless. A trip to Reno Behavioral Health [Reno Behavioral Healthcare Hospital] to find glorified babysitters but also professionals working to be the change. They make it so hard to survive these days, sometimes it feels like.

Smart phones when I just need analogue and simple interactions and old fashioned manners. The pursuit of simplicity and towards thriving. I get to sit comfortably and write right now-that is a privilege. It connects me to all the other marginalized writers living and passed who’ve been through the same “character building” adversity. Writers already have character. In fact we have billions of characters.

Conditions Inside

Jail. I did my best to keep the toilet clean. A steel, industrial beast next to a broken sink. Trying to organize, sort, clean the trash that they would not come and get. Weeks in I scrubbed the floors down with shampoo and sandwich bags for scrubbers. I’d used bread to muffle my cries when I was in so much physical and emotional pain and I knew I was still just being observed. I passed out and my glasses broke. That’s Parr Blvd for you. Cat food sandwiches and justice is a box marked n/a. They don’t always have you do the medical intake. There’s a box that asks if you think there’s a chance you’ll be raped while in jail. When you know you’re being drugged and you wake up to the smell of K-Y Jelly there, the question never leaves you. 

This last time when I was there for 12 days I finished an entire book in about three days, a feat for me: Antoinette’s Sister. I missed my own sister terribly. Getting into a groove where my glasses-less eyes squinted over the words, stinging but blinking through it, I remembered my best memories with my sister. How she’d visited and tried to plan a nice time for us at the spa and how my actions catapulted me back into trouble and them into worry. I lost my job. I won’t lie about it.

This is homelessness. It does not give you a break to catch your breath or save money for next week. Even if you have support it is viscious. It makes you especially grateful for the people you keep on your side though. They are precious as ever. 

Conditions at the jail: this time they actually changed our clothes. I still painted murals on the walls with the flavored vitamin powders.

The P and anchor combo of the Kotwica, Poland Fighting. One of the many emblems in the world simply saying “they’re not going to get away with it.” Breonna Taylor with a heart. A drawing using soap as chalk on the Nevada blue door of her. “Say their names.” When you’re stuck in a garbage Petri dish, rights not recognized, you cling to dreams.

A freedom fighter ally, you know other people are in there for similar reasons who’ve come in at the same time as you. Other people subject to performative cruelty and suicide attack groups. That’s where a person is targeted, say in the controversial gang-stalking way, and pressured until an already vulnerable person loses their grip on mental health. There is cause to believe there may be a correlation between this phenomenon and the “stop it hurts” #stopithurts article regarding performative cruelty and the torture of, if memory serves, a man with autism. I’d give my pinky toe to find that article right now but I’m coming up empty. 5 minute search be damned. 

Autistic Lives

I watched TV briefly while they transferred me to a different cell when I was first brought in the 2nd time out of 3; the Obamas looking concerned and a little pale. I stared back at their eye contact with the camera. I’d looked at the American flag earlier that day and felt pride in hoping there’d be an autistic movement to follow the Black Lives Matter one.

Autistic Lives do Matter so much. We are often people on the cusp of or at brilliance yet so hindered by the trappings of social and everyday functioning; usually the social aspects that don’t serve anyone anyway such as undue ridicule, passive aggressiveness, any indirect communication, which is why sometimes humor can be difficult and people on the spectrum can be perceived as emotionless. Not that females can prove they even have it once they’re adults. It is costly if you can even find a doctor who is up to date on the research.

I was strong, not emotionless in my cell. Hours went by in the beginning when I was naked, only with my imagination and old, green Velcro garments which barely stuck together to close. I was not given my insomnia or any other medication besides the dosed porridge and soft bananas they gave once a day.

Hours of torture passed and I couldn’t speak.

I had to just lie there on the concrete like some discarded dog. I couldn’t believe we were on US soil.

This last time though when there was actually cause to arrest me, officers beat me down and pushed me into the concrete of that first intake cell for no apparent reason. They laughed. There was even a person of color with cute red glasses that looked like they might be queer based on the pixie cut. The last twelve days were waking up and trying to beat the pain in my spin and left side to sleep. #policebrutality is alive and well. It is still laughing at us. 

The first two times there I had seizures and no one did anything. It was entertainment to them. I braced myself against the blue bed tray and its pad for dear life. I bit down on the toilet paper roll so as not to bite my tongue. I banged on the door with all my power. I was not entirely alone. There were the other inmates. We could not leave to interact but we suffered and communicated together. There seemed to be others who were free to move around more. They’d gossip, laugh, yell down things like “suicide!” Their hate was enormous. I still consider those who could have acted and instead stayed voyeurs to be Nazis. 100% American Nazis. I made this opinion known. I dished back, trying to throw education back at their obscene stupidity. What’s worse, they lied and told my family I’d left and that’s why I missed my trial hearing. I thought I was going back to them in a box.

First time brushing your teeth in about a month is an experience. Just now doing isn’t after 13 days is practically a luxurious experience what with the new toothbrush and paste. That’s what it comes back to after tragedy: well, sure is nice to not have rotting gums now. What a pleasant turn of events.

There was the terrible rumor of me being like Pocahontas going around. I’m not entirely sure why but my theories will stay private for now. My heritage is mine. And there was having had to live in an actual tent. In my mind and with witnesses of the other inmates I embraced the rumor to symbolically steal back the land.

All the US land was a stretch even for our bored, tortured minds so I said I wanted the prison torn down and given back to the Native people.

All we have is poetic justice. It was a beautiful moment, say what you will. Because this is nothing short of a war. Our side gets filtered in in waves without organization while the oppressors need only wait and watch. It is a fact everything is under surveillance. In my dreams I cut the proverbial ribbon to demolish that hellhole.

PART 2

Wake up at 5 am. Leap out of bed to receive tray of porridge and a banana of varying conditions. A weak but much appreciated coffee. The milk always smelled off but I’m not used to drinking dairy milk. If you got a reusable tray they’d be back in about fifteen minutes to get it. Then you’re lucky if you have a decent book to read or are excellent at keeping yourself amused. 

Today I’m having coffee at the Nugget in Sparks.

They have the most beautiful ceiling fans all throughout the restaurant. They glide around easily; four wooden blades set into ornate brass work. A spinning cog mechanism, lovely to watch glides smoothly above the fixture.

A vanilla yogurt parfait with berries and granola is an excellent choice. There’s so much beauty in being able to sit here without pain, having stretched out the new kinks from Parr’s latest beat down. 

Getting to listen to mellow music, background chatter of mellow conversations, the clanking of dishes and the comfortable feeling after bathing and getting fresh clothes you’ve picked out for yourself.

I like to think I’ve always been appreciative of the little things but these harsh experiences definitely make the little things all the more pleasurable. The privilege of owning capable technology, the almost miracle of being in good health, the simple kindnesses exchanged with the waiter. I readjust and feel my left glute and tailbone flare up slightly. The damage could be deep and affect me when I’m older but I’ll do something close to my best to keep the machine of my body well maintained. 

The warmth of the ceramic coffee mug, classic shape, heavy with thrice refilled freshness.

“You doing okay, hun?” The waiter, she scratched gently on my jacketed shoulder. “Probably a lot better if I left you alone,” she says in an undertone. I laugh. I am such a puppy dog.

This is blissful compared to the bark of “DeRosa, meds!” Or “DeRosa, face the wall with your feet together and arms crossed. Bring your left arm down like a chicken wing.” Chains, cuffs. Then off to the court room of chaos where, unbeknownst to me it would be the last day, they have me and another woman kneel on a back row bench to apply an ankle chain with cuffs of bright yellow.

They don’t leave any wiggle room and readjust the chains around my waist to make them more secure. Breathing is still possible so that’s always a triumph when dealing with police. 

They take us and a group of about seven men to a transport van. There are three windowless blue sections in the white windowless vans. The seats are padded with seatbelts. “Watch your head,” one of the deputies says.

Then we’re closed in darkness until they turn on the engine. Sterile white light illuminates the small area and there are two cameras on us. About twelve minutes later we’re at an unknown location squeezing between the van and a garage wall.

I was told we were going to court but was surprised when it wasn’t in the usual zoom format in the jail courtroom. We are brought, ankles pinched by the metal cuffs, to a large room with plastic chairs in rows before a tv.

Why bring us from one zoom court to another? They have us females sit two rows behind the males. Then a movie starts playing.

The Joker and my Beautiful Lawyer

It’s the first one with Heath Ledger as the joker.  What the hell?

The men laugh, everyone sitting with a seat or two in between them. About twenty minutes later they start to call us one by one.

When my turn comes the deputy asks if I can see him because he knows I have sight difficulties. I appreciate that. He tells me to go to an elevator that’ll lead me to another officer. I comply.

Strange to be in the same routine where the most exciting thing to happen is wether you’ll get egg salad or cat food as a sandwich to suddenly watching Batman and standing solo in a random elevator.

I exit and am told to sit at a desk. A moment later my beautiful lawyer is there, blonde with a muted navy suit, manicured pink nails, kind.

She reexplains the plea deal we’ll be taking and I’m shown into a proper court room. We’re at the Liberty courthouse in Reno proper. I sit off to the side and wait as others present their cases to the young judge. She always tells the defendants her hope for them.

Basically “I hope you turn your life around” but with more caring than you’d expect from the rigid, straightforward experience. This room probably saw a lawyer I knew present many cases.

I imagined not too long ago if I saw the inside of a courtroom it’d be as a reporter not as a criminal.

A wave of shame has me lower my head and face the wall. But I remember that no one worthwhile would judge me too harshly for the mistakes made when dealing with mental illness. I knew I was disappointed and concerned by my actions and the over $1000 fine was enough, if anything could be, to ensure I didn’t do anything like it again.  I also have to stay out of trouble for just under 200 days, meaning don’t get arrested, or it’ll be six months in jail. No thank you! 

I’m about three cups of coffee in wondering what else I can share about the experience of this year. I’m not out of the woods yet. Seven nights at a hotel with a restaurant nearby though comforting does not stability make. 

The first mural I painted was a collage style. There was the image of my future published and printed novel, The Kaleidoscope, with polaroids over and around it. The portrait of me or perhaps a younger version of my father. The rasplemon flavor vitamin drink mix with a few drops of water made for a decent red color. A list of people we’ve lost from BLM and my friend Laurie Frost. Rest in power. Rest In peace. 

Writing by Dani DeRosa shared with Our Town Reno

Dani is currently working on a novel and is available for writing/photography and design work. Dani can be reached at tbaubles@gmail.com

life along the highway in Reno

I ran across this road by accident

But it caught my attention as I looked around

There’s so much of a difference from house to house

Some are nicer than others

I just want to document what I see

An abandoned business sits at the end of the block 

The shadows I like a lot

I like the soft green on the building

There’s a man smoking on his motel balcony across the street watching the sunset 

The speedboats remind me of my uncle

He took me out on his a long time ago when I was young

More dogs seem to bark at me every time I go out and do this

For how some of them might look, these homes are quite charming 

I don’t hear any kids or any sign of kids

I’ll keep walking down the whole street, one after the other, blocked out windows and busted in door handles

The RV is broken down too

Children’s bikes are around the back of it, how sweet 

I remember my bike as a child, but nostalgia is a dangerous thing 

It’s so quiet, and the wind is burning my lips

Photos and Essay by Jake Lorge for Our Town Reno

Protecting Our Eloteros after Crackdown by Health District

In the past two years, the Washoe County Health District gave cease-and-desist orders to multiple unlicensed street vendors, and trashed all their food.  

In March, it hosted a Spanish townhall to help eloteros as they are sometimes referred to in the Spanish speaking community to obtain business permits.  Some people in the area still complain about the growing presence of street vendors, but many rely on them for affordable fruits, and tasty treats such as esquite (corn with cheese, mayo and powdered chile served on the cob or a cup) and raspados (a flavored shaved ice).

Another popular item is mangonada, a mango cup with chamoy, lime juice, tajin, and other spices. It is a blend of sweet, spicy and sour. 

Mangonadas are served in cups, making them easy to take on the go and eat while exploring around town or lounging at the park. Taco trucks are also popular at night in the Wells Avenue District. 

Street vendors announce their presence with bells and horns. Among other items they sell are Takis, and chilindrinas (flour fritters with valentina and lime). 

What’s your favorite from street vendors and do you have a favorite elotero? 

Reporters Ariel Smith and Nancy Vazquez support these small vendors. “The food is out in the open and you see what you’re getting compared to restaurants where you can’t even see what’s happening in the kitchen,”  said Ariel. “You can decide for yourself if you want to eat it.”

“These people are simply trying to make money for their families and are earning it instead of begging for dollars. I have heard of no one who has ever gotten sick buying food from these people,” said Nancy. 

Citizen’s Forum Contribution by Nancy Vazquez and Ariel Smith

An Ode to Downtown Reno Believe Plaza Skateboarders

Lights from the Space Whale sculptures shine over the downtown Reno city plaza as locals enjoy their passion of skateboarding. Small, yet so big, much like the city itself. Bringing a nice space for passionate skateboarders around Reno to share and enjoy as they do what they love under the western sky.

The Truckee River flows on besides the skateboarders, giving them another beautiful sight to gaze at while enjoying their favorite hobby.

Skateboarders come from all different parts of the city, ranging from many different ethnicities, but all are equal at the Plaza. All come to the same place to display their passion for skateboarding and to take a break from any struggles they might all face. No matter where one might come from, when at the Plaza, we are all passionate skateboarders or an interested audience.

The Plaza isn’t the only skateboarding area in Reno, and it’s not even close to being the biggest or having the most obstacles either. So why do many skateboarders choose this very place?

The Plaza sits where no other skateboarding park in Reno does. In the middle of downtown Reno, where many locals and visitors enjoy their early nights.

Believe! says the plaza’s other sculpture. Every time a skateboarder may fall and fail, a big sign that is hard to miss, tells them to get back up and try it again. Don’t give up and keep on skateboarding. Believe in yourself and the community around you that wants to see you succeed. 

Our Town Reno contribution by Reyden Morett

If People Could Just Not Litter in Midtown, a Photo Essay

the unlucky penny

only a few steps away, but stuck in the middle

all alone

hanging, buried, forked 

neatly arranged in the wrong place 

in the vast open, sometimes caged

Next time you decide to skip the garbage can and throw waste on the ground, think of what is actually the trash: the wrapper or you?

I set aside quite a bit of time to go to Midtown because I figured it may be difficult to find trash to take pictures of. I snapped my first picture at 11:03 am and the last at 11:22 am. I took over 70 photos, and lots of trash is not even represented in this series. It is frustrating and sad, especially considering most of the trash was near if not right next to a garbage can. 

In elementary school basic respect of other people is taught, but why are we not emphasizing respect for the environment. It would take only a few extra seconds to find a trash can and make a difference.

If everyone made the effort to not litter, there would be no litter. 

Earth Day Citizen’s Contribution by Emily Richards for Our Town Reno