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By the time the hearing is over, it's nearly 3 p.m. With more meetings this evening, West and Turner need to refuel.
When they walk into El Pulgarcito, a Salvadoran restaurant on Truman Road — in the 3rd District — the waitress speaks to them in Spanish. West has never studied the language, but he has picked it up well enough to talk about education with families in the Northeast and on the West Side.
"Como se dice crackers?" West asks when his soup calls for more saltines.
"Galletas," the waitress says with an appreciative smile.
After the meal, West goes back to the Ivanhoe Neighborhood Council's brick-walled meeting room. The council has bought some abandoned lots and started a project called IvanHOME to oversee their sale and development. (This effort isn't to be confused with Ivanhoe House, a concept of West's in which college education majors live in kids' neighborhoods while tutoring them. UMKC and Swope Community Builders signed on, and the first round of student mentors now are living and teaching in Ivanhoe.)
At 5:15, West excuses himself to make it to a meeting of the Light Rail Task Force. Outside that meeting at the HNTB architecture and engineering firm, as task force members graze on a buffet table, West strikes up a conversation with Ed Ford, a Kansas City councilman from the 2nd District. West mentions that he's running for a seat on the school board. Ford stops West before he gets too far into his pitch.
"You had me at hello," Ford says.
At his off-the-hinges front door, West repeats the familiar chair-bucket-towel routine.
Turner says it's not that she and West are trying to live some bohemian lifestyle. They're just too busy to catch up on home repairs. But West does take pride in the fact that his life's possessions fit into the trunk of his car. "I've made a habit slowly of giving everything away," he says. "I see myself as a minimalist. I want to own as little as possible. That's one of the reasons the open-door policy has never backfired — there's nothing to take."
Last August, he decided he would live without locks. One day, West found a familiar 15-year-old rooting through a chest of drawers where Turner had once kept a digital camera. This teen was the one who broke down the front door, and he didn't want to talk. West had to call the police — something he tries to avoid.
He prefers more amicable approaches. His car has been sitting awkwardly on the front lawn since a few other neighborhood teens stole it, crashed it and brought it back with a big crack down the right side of the front bumper. West didn't call authorities. Instead, he brokered a deal with the kids and their parents. The car awaits repair until the teens' new jobs bring in the money necessary to fix it.
He's frustrated that the kids in his neighborhood have to ride buses to school buildings on the other side of the city. On the school board, he would push for a return to community schools where parents and neighbors could be more easily engaged and create a support system for the area children. That means schools would end up more racially segregated. So be it, he says. They'll deal with issues as they arise.
West has been prodded to run for office in the past: twice for City Council, once for a seat in the Missouri Legislature and once for a position on the school board. He has resisted, he says, because he has never seen himself as a politician.
He's no good at telling people what they want to hear. He admires the hopeful leadership style of Barack Obama, but he also counts Harriet Tubman as a role model. She had the kind of focus that defied conventions of the time, he says. In her determination to liberate slaves, he says, she was just as likely to aim her rifle at black people as white. West knows that kind of determination doesn't play well in some camps.
Sitting in his cold, unfinished house on a recent morning, composing an e-mail to supporters, he admits that he's anxious about the political campaign. Then again, he says, he has nothing to lose.