Growing up in the South Bronx. Low self esteem and poverty

A boy is born in hard time mississippi
Surrounded by four walls that aint so pretty…

His father works some days for fourteen hours
And you can bet he barely makes a dollar
His mother goes to scrub the floors for many
And you’d best believe she hardly gets a penny
Living just enough, just enough for the city... yeah!...

“Living for the City” Lyrics and Music by Stevie Wonder

Maybe if, like the lyrics in Stevie Wonder’s song, my parents had given me “love and affection,” I would have felt differently about myself and our circumstances. But whatever caused my parents to basically be unable to parent, is another story I will tell. For now, it’s about my personal experience living in poverty in The Bronx.

We moved there when I was in the fifth grade, about 10 years old. We had lived in a safe neighborhood but that changed drastically when my grandfather died and my family decided to go into a “family” business. My father, mother, aunt and my uncle all bought a luncheonette together on Tremont Avenue. My parents and I moved into a building just across the street from the luncheonette. This business had to support two families: My parents and I and my aunt, uncle and cousin. We were very poor.

My parents worked very hard at the luncheonette and it became my job (at 10 years old) to take care of the house. I did all the cooking, cleaning, ironing, took the laundry to the Laundromat, and did whatever else needed to be done. While other kids were out playing, I was home taking care of the house.

Now to describe the “hell hole” as my mother called where we lived. Roaches. Everywhere all the time. Especially in the summer. No matter how much we sprayed, cleaned, killed them, there were always more. Then there was the garbage, like the roaches… everywhere, all the time. I grew up believing that I WAS the roaches. I WAS the garbage. I WAS the ugliness surrounding me.

As a child it is hard to separate our experiences from ourselves. It’s only been in the last 10 years I’ve even been able to tell people that I had roaches. I felt so much shame about it. Which, in turn, led to shame about myself. I have never seen myself for who and what I really am. The mirror has been clouded and foggy with a lifetime of self blame, shame and victim mentality. It has only been in the last several years that I’ve even begun to unravel and understand the heavy, useless baggage I’ve been walking around with.

I have always been a kind of “the unexamined life isn’t worth living” type of person. It took an injury that got progressively worse for awhile and then a move to another state that seems to have finally triggered a major turning point in my life.

I learned to try to “notice” my reactions and realize that these reactions were part of my childhood and now I have the power to be the “adult.” I no longer am a terrified 10 year old, I am now an adult who can reason and see my reactions were not really appropriate anymore. My focus is to be “present,” notice my reactions, even laugh at them sometimes, and remember “that was then and this is now.”

I really began “getting” that I had been living my parents’ life, seeing myself through their eyes, not the eyes of reality and accepting as true all the irrational beliefs about myself. Some days, weeks, are harder than others, but I’m feeling an underlying joy that I don’t know I’ve ever truly felt before. It seems that buried under the barrage of garbage I’ve believed all my life is a truly Shining, Beautiful, Innocent, Pristine, Compassionate, Loving, Being. And that’s who I truly am. I feel more freedom than I’ve ever felt. I am slowly and gradually more and more liberated from the constantly arguing voices in my head, the internal bickering that hardly ever stops. I feel like something in my core is changing and shifting. I’ve been lucky to have some inner resilience that has allowed to me be able to not only survive my childhood, but to thrive in that I am FINALLY learning the lessons that I’ve always needed to learn. It’s been a long and winding road… leading ultimately and actually to MYSELF!!!! The Beautiful, Joyful, Innocent Being I actually am. No matter the outer circumstances, I am learning to unconditionally love myself as the true beautiful being I actually am. Definitely to be continued…

I hope you hear inside my voice of sorrow
And that it motivates you to make a better tomorrow
This place is cruel no where could be much colder
If we don’t change the world will soon be over
Living just enough, stop giving just enough for the city!!!!

“Living for the City” Lyrics and Music by Stevie Wonder

Ice Dancing - Athleticism, Grace and Joy

Cristina was diagnosed with leukemia in September, 1994. One of the first interesting "coincidences" was that there were a lot of programs on tv about people climbing Mount Everest. Climbing into what is called the "dead zone." This is where there is virtually no oxygen and without oxygen masks, most people would die. I watched these programs all the time. I felt like I, too, was climbing Everest into the dead zone. I knew that my daughter's illness and transplant would be a very challenging experience. That both of us would be going to places we had never been before. Watching all the climbers on Everest somehow helped me have courage and it also felt like I was seeing the journey I was soon to be embarking on. Going to some place that would challenge every aspect of who I am, what I believed and how much courage and perseverence I would be able to find within myself.

At the same time, winter was approaching and Ice Dancing/Skating was on tv also. I had not been really that interested in it before, but as I started watching it, the beauty, joy, athletic prowess and the thrill of watching world champions compete helped fill my heart and eyes with some of their joy. It was also important for me to see that these world champions could/would fall down, get back up and continue right on with their program. Again, courage was part of why I loved watching the ice dancing. For that time I was watching it, I could completely lose myself in the beauty.

I always had in mind that whatever beauty I could tap into, I would store up in myself to help Cristina. There are great differences between climbing Mt. Everest and Ice Dancing, but there are also similarities... courage, joy of victory, pushing yourself further than you ever thought you could go, facing a challenge, learning about yourself.

I've become a Mt. Everest climbing Ice Dancer! ha, ha

Beauty Feeds the Soul, Heart and Mind

One of the most difficult things during my daughter's illness and recovery was the absolute misery and suffering that filled my eyes. Nothing like a transplant unit and a hospital to see very little other than pain and suffering. My daughter's room faced the back of the hospital. The "view" from her window was the back of the hospital and a bunch of gray pipes, etc. There was virtually no natural light. For approximately 20 minutes on a sunny day, there would be one stream of light that would come into her room on the window sill.

It was right in that place that I put a big bouquet of silk flowers. All around the room I put photos of family and friends so no matter where we looked, we were surrounded by love. I would go outside sometimes and sit in the sun and just look around at the green grass, sunshine, flowers, listen to the birds. I would very consciously take in as much beauty as I could to bring back to her. I did that a lot with dancing also. Store up all the energy, beauty and joy to bring back to her whether she was at home or at the hospital.

I've been reading some stuff that says that Beauty increases the feel good hormones serotonin and increases endorphins. I didn't know it at the time, but probably doing that is what helped save both of our lives. Even in the concentration camps, at times of war, during slavery... all the hideous things people have done to each other, people have had the resilience to dance, sing, create.

I believe that it is Art (in all its forms) that makes life liveable. No matter the circumstances, bring Beauty into your life. That's why the artwork I do here is so fun. I love looking at it, sharing it and it feeds my soul.

Lots of Time to Think and Be

One of the "benefits" of being sick is I've gotten to spend a lot of time just "being." My brain has not been functioning other than to think about how tired and bored I am and trying to accept that right now I'm sick and that's just the way it is.


Hard to believe how hard it is just to accept things AS THEY ARE! I want to go out, have my life, write, dance. It's HOLIDAY time after all! But, alas, I have to lay down much of the time. My energy level is non-existent. I do a little of something, then lay down...


Drinking a lot of green tea (for the immune system), honey, lemon, pushing fluids. Not eating very much. Great for the figure, but not exactly how I would have wanted to lose weight. Miss dancing SO MUCH! That's the hardest, not to be able to dance. Maybe Sunday night. Even for a little while. Gotta TWIRL!!!!


That'll make me feel better or at least I'll get so dizzy I won't care how I feel!

Beautiful Hearts Heal Each Other

I absolutely loved this piece of art. I'm not exactly sure what it is... but that doesn't matter. That's what "art" is about. The creative expression. The Ultimate expression. Sometimes I think Art is the only thing that helps humanity to survive. Everywhere we look there's pain and suffering. Sometimes "man" made and other times, nature.

I would imagine the first time a human painted him or herself or painted in a cave or on a rock... that must have been quite a thing. Kind of like discovering fire! That's what this reminds me of. Something primitive and gorgeous. Full of life. Full of healing. One of the only pieces of art I ever did was at Jada Fire's Hidden Goddess Seminar in Las Vegas. At the center of it was a heart. That seems to be where Love resides. Brains without heart leads nowhere and heart without brains... well, I'd rather have that than brains without heart. I'd rather deal with stupidity than heartlessness (although I really prefer both).

This is the painting I wanted to go with my last blog about Dan, but talk about "stupidity." I couldn't figure out how to get it on that blog. Well, at least I have heart!