Meet the People Keeping Ordinary and Extraordinary Parts of DC Going – Washington City Paper
What do you do? is often the first question asked in D.C., where the federal government workers turn over like its, well, their job.
Consultant, lobbyist, policy researcher, strategist, legislative staffer. Yawn. Theyre a dime a dozen in this town.
But as any good native Washingtonian or longtime resident knows, theres another side of work that keeps the city going. The COVID-19 pandemic has highlighted fields that we absolutely cannot do without: medical care, emergency services, education, food production, infrastructure, transportation, and, ahem, journalism to name a few.
But there are also the less obvious jobs that are equally important to the function and character of the District.
The following profiles are stories of odd, ordinary, and otherwise un-thought-of local jobs, and the people who do them. Mitch Ryals
Nadine Seiler had no idea when she showed up at the Womens March in 2017 that four years later she would be a lead guardian, and ultimately the preserver, of artifacts on what would become the BLM Memorial Fence.
Seiler wasnt a member of any activist group then, but she felt in each bone of her 5-foot, 5-inch frame every anti-Black, anti-woman, anti-immigrant restriction and rant under President Donald Trumps leadership. She felt she had to do something. So Seiler started going to the White House holding a regular rotation of provocative signs.
Her favorite activities included shouting obscenities at Trump supporters who got in her face and educating elementary school kids who chanted Make America great again! about the history behind their statements. Make America great again to when? she would ask. When they were lynching Black people? Her Trinidadian accent both offended and riled up such visitors.
Seiler joined the 2017 and 2018 global womens protests and most daily Kremlin Annex protests that started after Trumps 2018 Helsinki visit with Russian President Vladimir Putin. A shy activist she mentored at the Kremlin Annex rallies called her Warrior Goddess for the Resistance, an alias that still motivates her. Seiler had started protesting at Lafayette Square by herself when a White police officer murdered George Floyd in Minneapolis. She joined the ensuing protests against systemic racism and police brutality in front of the White House. When law enforcement put up the first fence, amid the rattling of steel bars, Seiler glimpsed the beauty of Black Lives Matter signs, art, and photos left behind.
During the pandemic, Seiler lost her odd day jobs as a personal concierge specializing in helping local residents organize their homes. (IF the clutter makes you shudder, get you a Nadine, the tagline on her LinkedIn profile says.) Soon Seiler started leaving her Waldorf home at night to stay by the fence typically from 10 p.m. to 4 a.m. and do what she does best: organize and protect the things that had shown up.
During one of these shifts, word got around to Seiler that the fence was coming down. Seiler andother night-shifters acted on preservation instinct, taking photos and signs off the fence and sorting the items into categories based on material type and size. The processing made for an easier transfer to institutes such as the National Museum of African American History and Culture, which was notified about the collection and came to collect items on June 9, 2020.
While Lafayette Park reopened to the public the next day, law enforcement soon fenced off the area again after some protesters sought to topple the Andrew Jackson statue. This second structure became the BLM Memorial Fence, which Seiler and a few others guarded for the next seven months. But as stunning as the stories and protest artwork posted there were, they werent properly secured to the fence, so they made for a messy second home. The home organizer in Seiler couldnt stand it.
It just looked bad, she says. I didnt want to be part of the [messiness]. So I just started picking up the stuff and putting them back on the fence as best as I could. Others also helped secure the items with zip ties and duct tape. The reorganization effort just grew and grew and grew and then [the fence] became a focus of Trump supporters, says Seiler. They were coming in mad they wanted to see White House and all this stuff that was negative against [Trump] is on the fence, blocking them.
In the months that followed, conflicts arose between the fence guardians and anti-BLM activists on a mission to tear down protest art. But the fence was also a site of community and allyship with volunteers and unhoused residents. In late January 2021, Seiler and others organized the memorabilia into more permanent resting places. They couldnt keep watch over the fence forever. The work didnt pay the bills.
Seiler and fellow activist Karen Irwin had reached out to museums to see if any institutions were interested in taking the mementos. They received lukewarm responses until a Howard University alum finally connected Seiler to a Howard employee who took 75 pieces for the school. The Library of Congress took 36 fence items, including two pieces Seiler created. Then Jodi Hoover, a digital resources specialist at Enoch Pratt Free Library, exceeded Seiler and Irwins expectations. Enoch Pratt would scan the items in batches through its high-tech scanner, which has the ability to keep every piece of debris intact on 3D items. The D.C. Public Library, Enoch Pratts partner in the project, would then create metadata to display the items in online archives.
The Black Lives Matter Memorial Fence Poster collection is a project spanning libraries and departments throughout the District. After training in metadata, volunteers spend most of their downtime creating titles, descriptions, and subject headings for collection items. The project will culminate in an archives launch in fall 2022. Meanwhile, Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library is hosting a Black Lives Matter Describe-A-Thon on Feb. 9 from 6:30 to 8 p.m. where the public can help create descriptions for fence materials.
Enoch Pratt specializes in archival projects, and most of its collections are historical, so documenting contemporary history such as the BLM protests is rare. For Laura Farley, digital curation librarian at DCPL, the ingenuity of activists and allies takes us back to the moment when it began.
If you remember back to early, early in the pandemic, when people first started to contribute these posters and all kinds of items people were using whatever they could find at home, Farley says. Because nobody was going to the stores, nobody could get supplies. So the creativity of what people used that they had on hand to get their message through its pretty amazing.
Pro-Trump and other political items arent part of the preservation efforts and remain in storage; no organization has shown any interest in them, according to Seiler. These pieces might get scanned after BLM-related items are scanned at Enoch Pratt and if theres any funding left, but not as a part of the BLM Memorial Fence Collection.
Nowadays Seilers daily uniform incorporates souvenirs from the first and last movements she joined. On a recent Wednesday evening, she wears a pussy hat with black ears and a hoodie that says The Black Guy Did It during an impromptu video call. Behind her is a poster with her animated likeness photographed at the fence. Both the hoodie and the poster image are for sale in her Tee Public store, Subversive-Ware, which she created to help with the monthly storage fees she pays to keep mementos from the BLM Memorial Fence.
Seiler keeps a running list of institutions and individuals interested in taking items. She says its vital that folks value every mementoboth the more pristine items as well as those battered by wind and sleet and debrisas a story in their own right and as part of a mosaic of the moment.
Some of them are torn, and I know why when the circumstances under which it got torn, Seiler says. Everything has a story.
The work of preserving the fence mementos, and memories born there, hasnt ended for Seiler. Shes planning to form a diverse committee of D.C.-area residents in late spring to decide how to parcel out the remaining mementos.
The fence was a concerted effort, it wasnt [just] me. It was this community effort of goodwill and it was magical. Ambar Castillo
Imagine you are a young person. Old enough to drive but not old enough for much else. You possess all the ignorance that comes with that age and, while driving through New Jersey, you stop for gas. A man approaches your car, saying he will pump it for you. You decline his offer. He insists; its his job, he says. And you, who should know better but dont, respond, This isnt a job!
But it is a job. All over New Jersey, in portions of Oregon, and at one Exxon at the intersection of Pennsylvania Avenue and 4th Street SE on Capitol Hill.
A man who goes by Woody watches a tow truck navigate the gas stations narrow curb cut as a dog barks from inside the small office space. He started in 1994 as a mechanic and now manages this place, its two pumps and adjoining garage. Operating for more than half a century, its the last full-service gas station in D.C.
Some customers, he says, come here specifically because its full service. They dont want to get out of the car or cant pump their own gas. These are the people who have been coming here for decades. The ones he and his fellow workers know by name. This is their station. Were the neighborhood shop, he says. Others stumble upon it and some dont want full service or understand how it works. They think they have to pay the attendant and dont want to. Or they think theyre getting robbed. To preempt that, the attendants wear uniforms.
Woody says the station will stay full service as long as they can find people to do the job. Which isnt easy, he says. Its cold in the winter, its hot in the summer. Its demanding. Youve got to deal with the public, and theyre not always very nice. Nevertheless, as cars pull up to the pumps, an attendant arrives without fail, ready to provide whatever services the driver needs. One of those attendants is Mr. Reed.
William Reed, 74, stands tall and his gray uniform bears his last name. He has worked at this gas station for too long, which equals roughly 37 years. He used to work days for DC Public Schools and nights here before retiring from DCPS. But hes still pumping gas. Its something to do, he says. Most people, when they retire, they die. I work and keep the body going. When his kids ask him when hell retire, he says, What am I gonna do? Stay home and die?
The key to being an excellent attendant, according to Mr. Reed: Wait on the people and see what they want. Some people dont want you to use their credit card, he explains. Sometimes you have to let people pump their own gas, even though its your job and theyre paying you to do it. It doesnt hurt to know something about cars, too. Woody makes sure to note that youll learn about cars on the job.
What person at his age can do what he does, Mr. Reed asks rhetorically. Its a good question, and pumping gas is not all he does. Here theyll put air in your tires and check your oil too, if you want it. (In New Jersey, they just pump your gas, Reed is quick to point out.) You pay a premium on the gas here, but you get a service for it.
Which is fortunate, because young people, you will remember, are ignorant. Most young kids nowadays dont know nothin, Reed says. Nothing useful, anyway. They dont know how to check oil, put air in the tires. The only thing they know is smokin weed. Will Warren
In a scene in the musical A Strange Loop, Usher, the storys protagonist, has sex with an older White man. The graphic scene involves anal foreplay. Its an intense scene for the characters and an incredible moment of physical intimacy for the actors.
Enter Chelsea Pace. As the shows intimacy choreographera relatively new role in live theater productionsshe works with actors to tell the story authentically while respecting their personal boundaries.
Theater is super uncomfortable, she says. Thats what makes it worth making a play out of.
For the scene from Woolly Mammoth Theatre Companys production of the Pulitzer Prize winning musical, Pace worked with Jaquel Spivey, who plays Usher, on where hes open to being touched and where his counterpart, Antwayn Hopper, is open to touching. She coached them on specific movements and gestures, showing Hopper how to move his hand and arm to simulate digital penetration without actually moving his fingers.
Pace is currently the resident intimacy choreographer at D.C.s Studio Theatre and Arlingtons Signature Theatre and is an assistant professor at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County. Her journey to intimacy choreography started with a six-week streak of wearing good underwear.
As an undergraduate at Binghamton University, she was cast in a farcical play as a character who spent a lot of time running around in their undies. She came prepared to rehearsal for more than a month because she never knew when she would be asked to perform without clothes.
As a young actor, she didnt want to ask the director when shed be able to rehearse without clothes for fear of appearing overeager or ignorant. She notes that she had a good relationship with the director, who was also her professor, and says her reluctance to ask the question was due to her own nerves.
But it also speaks to the power imbalance that can exist between directors and actors, who are often told theyre replaceable, Pace says. Those who ask questions, make demands, or speak up in defense of their personal boundaries can be labeled as difficult, which could cost them work.
Its that dynamic that Pace seeks to address.
Actors are always in a position of Yes. Yes, well do that, says Tatiana Williams, an actor working with Pace on Studio Theatres production of White Noise. You finally got the job, beat out the other people, and you want to make it work, but sometimes you may not have the language or feel comfortable to say, Hey thats a trigger spot for me or Im going to get there, but I need more time.
After college, Pace pursued an MFA in theater performance at Arizona State University, and she remained curious about consent, boundaries, and power dynamics. Friends in the theater came to her for informal advice with intimate scenes they were working on.
Eventually her curiosity became part of her research, and a few years after she graduated, she co-founded a company called Theatrical Intimacy Education with her colleague Laura Rikard. The company offers workshops, choreography, and consultations for students and professionals. Pace has also written a book on the topic: Staging Sex: Best Practices, Tools, and Techniques for Theatrical Intimacy.
Intimacy choreography involves sex scenes, sure, but theres a spectrum. At one end are moments where characters appear as if theyre in love but never actually touch.
There are physical ways to make people look like theyre in love with each other without them having to actually fall in love with each other, Pace says. Which is better for everybody, including those individuals and their respective relationships.
Williams says thats one major way intimacy coaches have helped her.
You might come out of a scene, and you cant shake off what youve done, Williams says. So how do you separate yourself from that moment? Theyre not your therapist, but they do have a good way of checking in in a different way: Are you comfortable with what we just blocked? Do you feel comfortable in your costume? Its just another voice in the room thats championing the actors.
At the other end of the spectrum are scenes of graphic or hyper-realistic physical and sexual intimacy.
Before Pace begins working with actors on individual scenes, she instructs them on how to speak up for their boundaries. It typically includes introducing a self-care cue, which acts like a safe word. Its a tool for an actor to stop the scene and ask for what they need: a hand to be placed a little higher, for example, or less pressure in an embrace.
Then she has them do a show, guide, tell exercise. Each person physically shows a partner where theyre open to being touched, then guides their partners hand on their own bodies, and finally reinforces those boundaries verbally.
When rehearsals begin, actors walk through that same exercise before a scene.
Id be working with them to make a touch here, or make that touch just a little bit longer because it will help us understand that [the characters] have been together a long time, Pace says.
When its time to try a kiss for the first time, Pace first has the actors stage it with a high five in place of locking lips. That allows them to talk through the movements that make the moment feel authentic.
Who closed the distance? What was the duration of the kiss? What was the depth of touch on the kiss? Whats the destination of your hands on your partners back? What was the power shift there when you pushed him down? Pace says. We craft all of that, but theyre finding it through palm to palm.
The work also extends beyond sex and romance. Onstage intimacy also includes scenes where actors are asked to draw from their personal experiences to tell a story. That could be experience related to race, sexual orientation, gender identity, disability, or other aspects of their identities that can come with vulnerability.
That vulnerability has been really poorly managed, Pace says. We put actors in these ridiculous and impossible situations without acknowledging that were asking them to do something impossible by being both a sponge and having the worlds richest inner life and having absolutely no qualms about bringing any and all of yourself into the room. But please dont bring yourself into the room if youre having a bad day.
When Pace first started this work more than a decade ago, she says most professionals were defensive. Directors were resistant to the idea of ceding control and insisted that they could create a trusting relationship where actors could say no. She noticed a shift leading into 2017 that accelerated around October of that year, shortly after the story broke about movie producer and serial sexual abuser Harvey Weinstein.
These days, Pace works on about 20 productions a year spanning film, television, and live theater. Her job is part of a cultural shift thats giving more attention to actors boundaries.
Im not the sex police, she says. Im just here to support. Mitch Ryals
If you ask Robert Shaut what his favorite tree is, he doesnt hesitate. The question, which is perhaps too easy, elicits not just a reply, but a memory. He remembers one tree that stood out to him when he was younger. When he reminisces about the platanus occidentalis, or the American sycamore, it brings back memories of the tree that grew outside his childhood home in Glen Echo. He remembers the way the trees grew along the bank of the Potomac River, thriving along the edges. He would climb the trees and swing into the river water, he says. The giant sycamore inspired Shaut to build a life and career around trees.
Since February of 2018, Shaut has worked as the director of tree operations at Casey Trees, a D.C.-based nonprofit committed to restoring, enhancing, and protecting D.C.s tree canopy. His role often entails tons of prep work and logistics, while facilitating leads to plant new trees, and ensuring that the field crews have nice, smooth days of planting, pruning, maintaining, felling trees or whatever the job calls for that day. His staff plants trees whenever the weather is reasonable, and despite the recent snow, the winters have been more and more plantable, he says. Shaut notes that hes the one who has to consider which trees will still be here in 20 years, or even in 100 years. To determine this, Shaut and his team research and study tree species climate adaptivity and resiliency regarding temperature and precipitation variance. Certain trees that have more Northern nativity are maybe starting to fade out of the District, says Shaut, while trees that have more Southern nativity are starting to phase in.
Casey Trees was established in 2001 and works with several organizations including the National Park Service, the D.C. Department of Parks and Recreation, and DC Public Schools, as well as cemeteries and places of worship. Shaut says that many clients want crape myrtles, dogwoods, or cherry trees. But when it makes sense, he may sway them to larger, environmentally impactful trees.
Theres a right place for every tree, Shaut says, but if the situation calls for a larger treecan allow for a larger treethats absolutely what were pushing to put in.
Part of this push is the organizational and citywide goal to cover 40 percent of the District in tree canopy by 2032. At one point, D.C. had the moniker the City of Trees thanks to its diverse array of native flora, with about half of the city covered by trees in the early 1950s, according to the Washington Post. By 2001, the tree canopy fell to just over 35 percent, WAMU reports. As of January 2022, Shaut tells City Paper that the most recent satellite imagery shows the current tree canopy in D.C. is now at 38 percent, a growth of 424 acres of tree canopy since 2006. In 2021 alone, Casey Trees planted 4,543 trees throughout the region. While Casey Trees may be close to its goal, Shaut notes that 1 percent of the Districts tree canopy is on the National Mall, which is substantial.
To meet this goal, Shaut has been allocating a lot of the organizations efforts to lower-canopy areas. He says that 75 percent of the tree plantings in 2021 were in wards 5, 7, and 8, areas that are also susceptible to the urban heat island effect. Planting trees in these and other similar areas can help reduce stormwater runoff and carbon footprint, improve air quality, add wildlife habitats, help reduce energy bills, and increase property values, according to the District of Columbia Urban Tree Canopy Plan, published by the D.C. government in January 2013.
Since Shaut took the reins as Casey Trees director of tree operations approximately four years ago, his vision hasnt changed. His goal has always been to be as impactful as we can, to really just make as much positive impact on local communities and to our environment, and I think weve been able to grow.
When he started, Casey Trees was planting 2,500 trees per year, but the organizations target for this year is 5,000 trees.
I think that every tree offers something, says Shaut. Michelle Goldchain
Getting from the visiting NBA teams locker room to the bus entrance inside Capital One Arena requires a lengthy walk, so Chase Rieder hops into a utility cart and drives it to meet the first of three buses carrying Philadelphia 76ers players, the teams staff, and their luggage. He loads the cart with three layers of suitcases from the bus, then navigates back through the arena corridor, past the Washington Wizards dancers practicing their routines, and parks it in front of the locker room. Rieder and his colleague Royce Reed then unload the cart and line the various equipment bags and personal belongings along the hallway before repeating the trip two more times.
Its 10:53 a.m. on Jan. 17, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and the Wizards are facing the 76ers in a 2 p.m. tip-off game. Rieder has been at the arena since 10 a.m. For the past 15 years, this has been a regular routine for the 30-year-old from North Bethesda. Rieder is a Wizards team attendant and contributes to the vast game-day production that largely takes place out of public view and away from cameras.
As Rieder prepares for the next bus to arrive, he goes on a quick walk-through of the visiting teams locker room. Headshots of Rieder and Reed adorn a wall near the entrance below the words TEAM ATTENDANTS. Popcorn, fruit, coffee, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches await the players. The bathroom is stocked with mouthwash and deodorant, and towels and heat packs are piled nearby. Shirts, pants, and jerseys hang on each individual locker. Rieder describes this part of the job as similar to a hotel concierge service. When they come in, I want them feeling like theyre in their home locker room at their city, he says.
Being a team attendant isnt always glamorous. The Wizards have about 10 to 12 part-time staffers who work under Brandon Mango, the teams recently hired director of equipment and logistics, and the job involves long hours on your feet, whether its rebounding for players during warm-ups or mopping the floor during time-outs. Team attendants are essentially on call throughout their entire eight-hour game-day shift. But for die-hard NBA fans such as Rieder, it can be a dream job. Rieder, who is a special education teacher at North Bethesda Middle School and the boys varsity basketball head coach at Northwest High School in Germantown, started as a Wizards team attendant when he was 16. (Applicants now must be at least 18.) He worked all 41 home games of the 2007-08 NBA season during his junior year at Walter Johnson High School, forgoing the opportunity to play varsity basketball to be a Wizards team attendant.
Rieder served as a home team attendant for his first seven seasons with the Wizards, and has been working in the visiting teams locker room for the past eight seasons. The biggest misconception about the job, both Rieder and Mango believe, can be derived from the sometimes dismissive names that team attendants are called: ball boys and ball girls, court moppers, water boys.
Some people think were just there to watch, Rieder says. But we feel like a lot of the games wouldnt run if there werent any team attendants.
Mango agrees: Without my locker room and team attendants, the show does not go on at Capital One Arena. I can be honest with that.
Its 2:11 p.m. when the game tips off, and Rieder takes his position on the court next to the 76ers bench. The coolers behind the players are packed with water and Gatorade bottles. A hydrocollator is stocked and ready for whoever needs a heat pad.
The 76ers, including 7-footer Joel Embiid, tower over Rieder, who isnt exactly short at 6-foot-1. As each player checks into the game, Rieder picks up their warm-up gear and neatly folds it into a stack. When the players return to the bench, he has a towel and their clothes ready. The players shirts and pants are all labeled with their jersey numbers. Rieder is no longer on mopping duty due to his senior status, but his current role calls for constant vigilance and a familiarity with the sport. He bounces back and forth between his seat on the court and the scorers table, and is so close to the action that he can hear players trash talking and the conversations between coaches and players during time-outs. Its one of Rieders favorite perks of the job. Team attendants may go unnoticed to the general viewer or fan, but for an NBA player accustomed to routine, having a team attendant nearby allows them to focus on the task at hand. Visiting NBA teams tip team attendants after each game, and Rieder has befriended several players over the years.
As the final buzzer goes off, marking the Wizards 117-98 victory, Rieder heads back to the visiting teams locker room, where he will stay until the last player leaves. He packs their bags and transports their luggage back to the bus with the utility truck. Around the same time, Wizards acting head coach Joseph Blair is speaking to media members in a postgame press conference. Blair was thrust into the position for the first time because head coach Wes Unseld Jr. and assistant coach Pat Delany are both out due to health and safety protocols.
After the game, inside the home teams locker room, Wizards forward-center Montrezl Harrell doused Blair with a bucket of ice cold water in celebration. The coach needed a new shirt, quickly, and so he turned to the person he knew would come through. Blair thinks about that moment while answering a reporters question. My back is pretty soaked right now. Big ups to Brandon Mango for getting me another shirt to put on, he says with a laugh.
The show, as Mango and his team attendants made sure, went on. Kelyn Soong
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Meet the People Keeping Ordinary and Extraordinary Parts of DC Going - Washington City Paper