MotorCity Casino pulled out all the stops for AAJA on Thursday for an evening of music, dancing and games. But to the surprise of many, the event was nearly empty.

“I felt disappointed and also embarrassed on our behalf,” said AAJA Boston chapter member Al Young. “We missed the boat on that one. It was a great event, but I think it was under publicized.”

At a general membership meeting on Friday, Young emphasized the need for communication in preparing for events, noting that he apologized to the promoters at the casino for the poor turnout.

For AAJA New York chapter member Maria Sandoval and Erin Pangilinan of the San Francisco chapter, the entertainment was amazing. They said they were greeted on a runway and in the large concert hall, they were offered private dining rooms and lessons on how to play the casino games. A Motown-style band played live music while guests enjoyed Coney dogs, fries and ice cream floats.

“I wish people knew about the event,” said Sandoval. “It felt really special and welcoming.”

AAJA leaders plan to look into why there was scant attendance at the MotorCity event, convention co-chair Frank Witsil said.

Witsil said fewer than two dozen attended the event.

Poor attendance was a common thread throughout the week.

Association officials projected at least 550 people would take part in the Detroit convention, but as of Friday, the number of registered attendees was 418.

AAJA San Francisco chapter member Ellen Lee said this year’s convention reflects the uncertainty of the industry today, but added that she felt the workshops properly addressed the ever-changing nature of what journalists have to do to stay relevant.

The Voices alumna said for the first time since she’s been involved in AAJA, Lee attended a meetup for freelance reporters to meet and talk about their work.

Other attendees also felt this year’s convention was a standout experience, including first-time convention goer Dipti Vaidya, an AAJA volunteer.

““I think that given such a rough economy and state of journalism, it’s nice to be at a convention where you hear positive, rejuvenating things,” she said.

Follow Holly Pablo @hollypablo.

By Dan Hill
Voices

Detroit has become fertile ground for a growing urban farming movement.

About 80 gardens dotted the city’s landscape in 2004. By 2009, the number jumped to 875, according to the Garden Resource Program, which keeps track of Metro Detroit’s agrarian activity.

Advocates claim urban farms address problems facing Detroit – which the USDA labels a a “food desert” – by providing nutrition and empowering local residents. But the city is at a crossroads as members of the local urban farm movement discuss the future.

“What happens at the grassroot level is some push and pull about, ‘Should it be a big conglomerate who does it or a neighborhood association that does this work?’” said Alice Thompson, chairperson for a task force created by Mayor Dave Bing to address how to use the abundance of unused land in Detroit.

Independent farmers look at the movement as a way to build a healthier community.

Chickens cluck in conversation and ducks wander a pen as the occasional car rolls past Spirit of Hope Church in Corktown, a Detroit neighborhood founded by Irish immigrants about three miles north of downtown.

Spirit Farm started when the urban farm movement was germinating but has witnessed a surge of interest in recent years, said Kate Devlin, head gardener. Adult and youth volunteers visit Corktown each summer to work the soil. Devlin gives half of the Spirit Farm’s produce to volunteers and the church’s food pantry, which supplements groceries for 160 families. She sells the rest to pay for supplies that cannot be attained through donations or grants.

However, members of the urban farming movement in Detroit must work under the radar, Devlin said, because some of the gardens violate city land use laws. Chickens squabbling in the pen at Spirit Farm are breaking the law — farm animals are not allowed in the city — and the tin roof over the oven made of clay, sand and straw is not up to code.

The Garden Resource Program and other nonprofit groups provide resources to community gardens in part because the city does not have funds, Devlin said.

For these reasons, Michael Score, a former agricultural educator at Michigan State, said  large-scale agricultural production can better serve Detroit. Score is president of Hantz Farms, a company based in Detroit that plans to plant 2,000 acres of trees on the city’s east side.

“The city has 40 square miles of vacant areas for growing,” Score said. “Even at the exponential growth of the gardening program, the gardening program isn’t designed to make a significant difference in the inventory of foreclosed properties, which is a huge drain on the city’s budget.”

Hantz Farms is in the center of a debate over the future of urban farming Detroit. Commercial farming could bring commercial pesticides to neighborhoods using organic methods, Devlin said.

“Sustainability is going to come from communities and neighborhoods building their own
food sources,” said the Rev. Matthew Bode, who launched a Lutheran and Episcopalian congregation in 2002 at the 130-year-old building housing Spirit of Hope Church.

“My greatest concern is creating a commercial environment that discourages people from growing their own food.”

Yet Score said Hantz Farms can function alongside Detroit’s independent growers by distributing crops through local farmer’s markets. A focus on large-scale production and wholesale will prevent the business from interfering with local neighborhood markets while expanding Detroit’s economy, Score said.

Regardless of whether neighborhood associations or private firms drive the future of urban farming in Detroit, Bode said he thinks Detroit will lead the nation in food issues and “conversations about economic justice.” Although outsiders offer views for rebuilding the city, Bode said he visions a future where solutions are home-grown.

“Detroit has a lot to teach people,” he said.

Follow Dan Hill @nudhill.

AAJA’s financial future rests in part on revenue accrued from this year’s Detroit convention.

The net income of the 2011 Asian American Journalists Association budget was expected to be about $45,000. But AAJA National Treasurer Rene Astudillo said the best-case scenario for year-end projections would be a net income of about $11,000 – a 75 percent reduction. The other extreme would be that the organization faces a deficit.

At the membership meeting on Friday, board members presented the current state of the association and the national budget. The national budget updates worry members.

Astudillo emphasized the rampant shortages in sponsorships and revenues across the board.

“The goal was $180,000 as net revenue for the convention,” he said. “Honestly, I don’t think we’re going to hit that goal. We also had a goal to get 550 people to sign up for the convention this year. As of this afternoon, 418 did.”

These shortages are threatening AAJA programs and events such as Voices and the 2013 national convention.

AAJA National President Doris Truong mentioned possibilities of reforming guidelines for choosing a host city for the next convention due to the organization’s financial challenges and the nation’s down economy.

“We are looking at ways to save costs while still providing a rewarding program for convention attendees,” Truong said.

The board is discussing various options to cut costs, such as hosting a joint convention with other journalism organizations.

With rising costs and decreasing revenues, planning for conventions has become a major hurdle.

“We used to book hotels three to five years in advance, but this is just not possible anymore,” Truong said.

The board also plans to redefine the organization’s full-member status. Despite the struggling economy, many journalists have remained loyal to AAJA and have continued their membership.

The goal of reform is to bring recognition to dedicated veteran members who have been laid off or have left their job due to economic pressures. For instance, if a member has been involved in AAJA for five years or longer, but is no longer a full-time journalist, the member would be able to retain full membership.

In addition to lackluster funding, many other AAJA revenue streams are drying up. The initial goal of the Power of One fundraising campaign, launched in 2008, was $25,000. Currently, AAJA has raised a little more than $5,000.

Individual donors are the biggest source of revenue for many nonprofits, “but this is simply not true for AAJA,” Truong said.

Even nearing 70 percent of the association’s projected membership dues, Astudillo says AAJA falls short.

He expects to have more accurate projections of the 2011 budget after the bills for this year’s convention have been paid.

The board plans to discuss strategies to lessen the impact of the shortage.

Truong also calls on AAJA members to donate, renew memberships and participate in fundraising efforts such as purchasing a Men of AAJA Calendar or an AAJA pin.

Follow Hailey Lee @haileylee139.

AAJA leaders are rethinking the purpose of the organization’s $900,000-plus endowment.

Started in 2004, the mission of the fund was to support programs on an annual basis using interest collected on what was hoped to be a $2 million principal.

“But the reality is we didn’t raise the full $2 million,” said national treasurer Rene Astudillo, who also served as executive director from 1999 to 2008.

The endowment received $1.2 million in pledges and now has $923,740 between its two investment accounts.

But the 2009 Boston convention left AAJA with debts to the hotel. Sponsors contributed less, and members felt the economic crunch.

“We were facing a deficit at the end of the year because so many people lost jobs in 2009,” said Sharon Chan, AAJA President from 2009 to 2010.

The AAJA board withdrew $154,000 from the endowment as an emergency response. The fund lost $255,620 – including investment losses and member withdrawals – in the 2009 fiscal year, according to tax records.

The withdrawal helped avert financial disaster for AAJA. The organization paid back $160,000 to the endowment after finances stabilized, according to executive director Kathy Chow.

Borrowing from the endowment was a controversial but critical move, one that brought into question the role of the fund.

“People who were giving [to the endowment] were a little upset,” said president Doris Truong. “It was not intended to be a rainy-day fund.”

Facing concerns regarding its use of endowment funds, AAJA then secured a line of credit. The relationship with banks allowed AAJA to take loans to fill budget holes.

“Most nonprofits set up a line of credit with a bond in cases of emergency,” Chow said. “It’s a safety net.”

With that safeguard now in place, the endowment is in an awkward situation. AAJA can access bank loans during financial emergencies rather than taking from its endowment. The fund’s investment returns are not strong enough to fund programming.

“We are not actively fundraising for the endowment because we need money that is unrestricted,” Truong said, adding that there are members who designate donations specifically for the endowment.

A task force that has reviewed AAJA policies and procedures for the past year will submit a report in conjunction with Saturday’s board meeting, Chow said.

The board has options in considering the fate of its endowment. It could reorganize its portfolio to target more returns or ride out the market on its current investments. Other decisions get to the root purpose of having an endowment in the first place.

“There’s two schools of thought here,” Astudillo said. “Some of those who were involved in raising the funds, like past presidents, think we shouldn’t touch the endowment. The other school of thought is that it’s there, it’s not earning interest, but at the meantime, it’s just sitting there.”

Follow Dan Hill @nudhill.

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Slow Bar B Q’s Triple Threat Pork is stuffed with applewood bacon, pulled pork and ham. Kiali Wong | Voices

College foodies can be easy to spot. Their pockets may be a little lighter, a little emptier. Their eyes light up when free food is announced. And a good meal always tends to rival the Last Supper.

I arrived in Detroit, straight from moving into a new dorm at Arizona State University, to find a new Last Supper. And Slows Bar B Q surpassed my hopes Tuesday night.

The restaurant’s charm was instant. An alluring aroma soaked the air, like the barbecue sauce doused over one of Slows’ popular sandwiches.

Helen Kwong, a convention attendee and Detroit-area native, was able to make a reservation for our group of 11 AAJA folks. We’d all answered an email that Kwong sent via the convention listserv about grabbing dinner at Slows on Tuesday.

The wait was brief before we were whisked away to the outdoor patio. It was quieter and retained a disappointing dab of the buzz we’d just left. Back inside, noises in the open space bounced from one wood surface to the next. The din, however, was a pleasant blare and felt like a trademark element of the Motown barbecue darling.

But the alfresco option was more ideal for our AAJA group to get acquainted or, for some, catch up with old friends.

The menu was a tour of Southern fare. Apple BBQ sauce. Special onion marmalade. Cornmeal “tempura” for deep-fried catfish.

Each dish made me wish I was dining on someone else’s dime so that I could eat more.

Ten minutes later, Slows’ Special Purpose burger emerged. A half-pound burger with smoked gouda, applewood bacon and sweet sauce sounded like bliss. No onion toppings for me — just can’t stand cooked tear-jerkers.

I grinned at its height. Forget the optional Texas toast. I recommend the poppy seed kaiser roll for housing Slows’ decadent burger.

My first bite was — perfect.

The smoked flavors of the gouda and bacon were a rich supporting cast for the star: the beef. I’d ordered the patty to be well done, which can translate to, “Well, dry.” But Slows is above such common follies. The meat was juicy. The sauce was tangy sweet. And crowning it all was the kaiser roll, a light backdrop to the other ingredients’ heft.

The last bite found its way to my mouth just as the sunlight was waning at our outdoor dinner party. And with that, the magic ebbed. I’d eaten a most satisfying burger. I’d had a Last Supper three nights into my stay in Detroit.

Nicely done, Slows, Nicely done.

(Note: If you plan to visit Slows, go en masse. The joint takes reservations for groups of six or more. Go to slowsbarbq.com, or call 313-962-9828.)

Follow Kiali Wong @kialiwong.