It is no secret that my partner and I have been trying to become parents for some time. I have always wanted to be a parent, but it took Glen until he has 42 to realize that he wanted the same. One of our main concerns has always been what role models our child may have. Many of the heroes I grew up with and the role models I had are no longer living. Thus, one day I decided to ponder what role models I would want my niece, nephews and my own child to have in their lives. They are still very young, and being molded by their parents and the world. People think that heroes and role models need to be individuals outside of our own circle: celebrities, sport figures and the like. Not so for me. I came to the realization that I have had heroes and role models very near me in this life and those are the examples I would like my child to follow. Yes, there are celebrities mentioned here, but what is important is how they influenced me and not their celebrity.
1. My father. Such a quiet man. Very patient, very kind. The first memory I have of an act of selfless kindness came from him. I can transport myself to that moment and still feel the sun in my face and feel everything that surrounded me. As my dad and I walked along the sidewalk in the city where I grew up, an old, and very frail blind man was trying to cross the street. Every time he tried, the light would change from red to green and the poor man had no one to help him. My dad walked me to the nearest store, it was called “La Favorita”, (we bought all our shoes there) and told one of the attendants if they could watch me for a moment. He then proceeded to walk towards the blind man. As I could not hear the conversation through the glass window, I can only surmise that dad asked the blind man if he could assist him. There was my father, who just a minute ago had been in a massive rush to go meet my mother and sisters, stopping everything to help someone in need. I remember it taking a long time, but cross the street they did, with my father holding the blind man’s hand until they were safely on the other side. My father came back to collect me and I recall looking at him thinking that something between us had changed, but at the tender age of 4, I could not decipher what it was. My dad’s name is Edwin, which means “good friend”. If there is someone in this world who lives up to his or her name, he does, for no one has met a more gentle soul. People of all ages especially children always want to be around him. So do I.
2. My mother. What a strong woman; what a strong character! Though there are things that all children resent about their parents, there are experiences that I am very grateful to my mother for. She is after all, a survivor. Cancer is a subject that we have covered and spoken about so much in my family, that it goes without saying that if there is one thing I admire about her, is her fighting spirit. There is never an obstacle too high for her. She will keep on fighting. Back when she was a teenager, she finished high school at 16 and college at 20. This was on an era when women did not aspire to be more than home-makers, nuns or teachers. As one of the only 3 women in her college graduating class, my mother was a pioneer. She was one of 13 children in a household which lived through the Great Depression. Somehow, her memories of her childhood are always happy ones. The first time I thought of my mother as a heroine was not when she got cancer, but when I was 7 years old. A terrible hurricane, Eloise, had hit the Island, and the rains, slides and floods left many people homeless. We lived on a hill, but the nearest neighborhood to us, was at the bottom of that hill and flooded badly. I don’t know how or why my parents made such a decision, but they asked my oldest sister to watch over me and my other sister and they got in the car. Before they left, they told us to please not be scared, that they were just going to see what they could to do help. Help they did. After a couple of hours they brought home another family with them. Apparently the shelters had gotten full and that family did not have a place to stay. My mother frantically prepared a bathroom and a bedroom for the four of them. She cooked them a hot meal in the small gas range we had for emergencies. She made them change into some old clothes we had stashed away. That family stayed with us for two days until they were allowed to return to their home once the waters resided, and other family members could come to collect them. Neither my mother nor my father ever brought this up to anyone. Theirs was an act of selfless generosity. During the aftermath of that hurricane, my mother, who also worked for the school meal program, went to the nearest school to help prepare meals for those in need. I remember staying at that school for a long afternoon while my mother cooked not only for others, but for her children as well. Her need to help others has always been second nature. My mother is the one who has always been near her siblings as they have lived the last days on this earth and has seen that those days are lived in harmony and with dignity.
3. My sisters. There is much I can say about them. They were my heroines, but mostly my role models. Being the youngest, I always have had the advantage of learning from their life experiences. Following them in school was always a challenge as I was constantly being compared with these two straight-A students who were good at everything, from making friends to playing sports. There was much I had to live up to. I still do. I am grateful to them for leading the way. It took a lot of courage for them to leave home to come to the US to study and work as young adults--leaving everything that was familiar and safe behind. It took great courage for one of them to attempt to get pregnant against the advice from doctors and for the other one to go to Russia to adopt her two children. Somehow, I cannot imagine life without my niece and my two nephews.
4. Jill Conner Browne. I really don’t know what possessed me to buy Jill’s first book, The Sweet Potato Queens Book of Love. Probably the cover. There was something haunting about a line of middle-aged women with green sequence mini dresses, big red hair, tiaras and romps and tits to go for miles. It was all very amusing. When I decided to finally buy the book, Glen and I were on our way from Atlanta to Louisiana to visit his parents and had made a stop in Alabama, at the Mobile’s Barnes and Noble. Tired of listening to music, we opted for the audio book. Boy, did we laugh! Since then I have read (actually listened) to all of Jill’s books. Depression is a debilitating condition and it was Jill’s humor that in more than one occasion stopped the tears that ran through my face during that very dark period of my life. I have met Jill precisely one, at a book signing, and highly doubt that she will ever remember me, but I will be always grateful to her for giving me life. She taught me that laughter is indeed the best medicine. More than anyone I know. I have written to her to express my gratitude for what she, unknowingly, did for me. She is a heroine to me and to countless others. True to form, the only book I have of hers on physical form, she signed as she promised on her first book. The same way she signs books to all the men who request her signature: “To the only man I ever really loved”. I do feel loved. And now when I listened to her and laugh, I do so full of joy.
5. Jennifer Patterson and Clarissa Dickson-Wright (aka The Two Fat Ladies). My mother is great cook. I learned my love of the kitchen from her. For many years, I lived on my own, and seldom cooked for anyone, lest for occasionally for friends and boyfriends. When my partner and I met, I found on him someone who loves to eat, and thus my romance with the kitchen was re-ignited. To me, Clarissa and Jennifer were the two aunts I never had. Not that I didn’t have Aunts, but none like I really would have liked. I had never felt such affinity with someone I watched on the telly. As soon as I watched them for the first time, I bonded with them accross the tube. Never mind we were an ocean apart. It was Clarissa and Jennifer who inspired me to become the great cook (I am told) that I am today. I am not a Chef. My interest in is food merely scientific and anthropological. Whatever it is they did, it made me want to experiment with food, and try new things. I began to write my own recipes in great measure due to them. To this day, I continue to do so and hope someday to pass along those recipes to my beloved God-daughter, who shares my love of food. The fun Jennifer and Clarissa had while cooking, reminded me of how my own mother used to sing with great abandon in the kitchen. Somehow, they made me reconnect with that part of my childhood. Some years later, when I learned of Jennifer’s passing due to cancer, I felt such an emotional connection as I have never felt with someone I had never met. Her death had left a void my soul. I did write to Clarissa soon after at her office in Aberdeen, where she was the university’s Rector, though she never replied. In that missive, I extended my condolences and told her how much the two of them had meant to me. Last year, I read Clarissa’s autobiography and my admiration for her grew. To have had been reared in privilege, to then lose it all to alcoholism and emerge from the depth of darkness as she did, is a remarkable story.
6. Patti LuPone. La LuPone made want to sing. When I was in elementary school, I was part of the choir. Same in high school. Little did I realize years later, when I auditioned for the Atlanta Gay Men’s Chorus, one of the best and most prestigious of such organizations in the nation, that I lacked technique, and that singing, like any other sport, necessitated my full attention, daily practice and exercise. I did eventually acquired that technique and what came out of my mouth is a voice that I had never heard before. Performing is something I always felt drawn to, but the three seasons that I sung with the AGMC were some of the most fulfilling and exciting of my life. Listening to recordings of Patti LuPone, put me in touch with my vocal range, as I am able to sign almost everything she does, though on my own style. Singing also gave exposure to many different people and afforded me opportunities I would have never had otherwise. For example, recognizing a at some moment of the pure genius of Mozart, whose Requiem I was able to perform with the AGMC as the background music to the Atlanta Ballet’s world premier ballet of the same name. Singing Mozart was almost a mystical experienced as I instinctively knew what notes would follow others when first introduced to one of his choral pieces. I am saving the one CD released with my soloist voice in it as a treasure.
7. Hailey Eddy. Definitely the best boss I have ever had. Hailey was smart, funny, generous, caring, a good teacher and very, very patient. I was just 26 when I began to work with Hailey. I say work with and not for because she always made her subordinates know that she was part of a team, and that each of us had as much to contribute to the success of our enterprise as she did. We were all stakeholders to each other. Like the leader of a team paddling a canoe, she knew that everyone had to pull their own weight on the same measure, so that the vessel could remain afloat. She guided me through learning the ropes of leadership with kindness and patience. Where others had made me defensive, she gave me calmness, stability and pride in what I did. It was no surprise then that when I was afflicted with an illness that took me away from work for three weeks and for which I lost 15 pounds in three days, she was the one who did the most to keep me alive. She made me eat, painful as it was. She kept close watch over me. She gave me strength. She gave me advise. She bought my food and medicine. Tell me of a boss who would do that for anyone these days? Hailey did. Now that I am in the position to lead, the is only one person in the world after whom I want to model my behavior, my gold standard…Hailey Eddy.
8. Karen Armstrong. Karen Armstrong calls herself a “freelance monotheist.” I am proud to count myself amongst one of her numbers. Growing up in the Catholic Church meant that I was exposed to a set of dogma and theologies that defined god as demanding, ever-watchful, and vengeful deity, and one who must be feared. Years later, I realized that this “god” had died for me and I left the Christian church. It was not until I read Karen’s books, especially A History of God and The Spiral Staircase, that this part of my life began to acquire new meaning. I have often made reference to Karen on this blog. She taught me to look at the message and concept of the divine in a very different light. Like Karen, I am trying to not to leave any stone unturned, and have looked endlessly for where God resides. My suspicions were correct all along: God resides within oneself. There is no better teaching and way to find enlightenment than living with compassion—the thread that unites all the Abrahamic religions of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Every day now, when I set of to start my day, I remember the Golden Rule: “Don’t do onto others what you have not done onto you”.
These are individuals who what guided my life and have molded who I am today. There are countless others, but I wanted to write about the most significant ones hitherto. At the end of the day, I realize that these individuals have been teachers, but like any good and wise teacher, they have only led me to the threshold of the temple. I am responsible to what I accomplish with the lessons, wisdom and blessings I that have been bestowed upon me. I imagine that in heaven, at the end of a long corridor, there must be a mirror. One day, I want to be able to look at myself in that mirror and say that the reflection who looks back at me is someone who has “paid it forward”, someone who has been a role model, and if I am lucky, someone's hero. That is the best legacy I can leave for my nice, nephews and maybe, if it is in the cards, my own child. Rest assured.
