Anticipating the End

One week.  Seven days.  Twenty years.  It's really here, the day I've thought about for so long.  I've had barely a minute to think about it these past couple of weeks, but I know it's coming and though I am excited to get into a new place, I'm apprehensive of the sadness that's coming. 

That's a picture of my house when Joe and I first bought it.  I found this and a few others while I was packing yesterday and looking at them made me a little sentimental.  We bought the house together back in 1998 and I bought it out from him in 2008.  That's a lot of time spent inside these walls and it's going to be an adjustment to go live somewhere else. 

The house looks so different in this picture than it does today.  Both Joe and I together and then just myself put a lot of work into this place over the past twenty years and though it never quite got to perfection, I'm proud of what we...what I, did to the place..a new kitchen, a deck with a new sliding glass door where a window once existed, a new bathroom, and lots of other smaller things, too.

It's been a great couple of months for me since I decided to put the house on the market towards the end of the summer, and I'm trying to ride that wave for as long as I can.  The selling process went easier and faster than I thought it would, I ended up finding a great new place to inhabit, and to boot, I met someone pretty special, too!  He's the first meaningful person in my life in awhile now, and having him around, well, just makes me happy.

His and my lives have had some parallels to them in the two-plus months we've been dating, and that's one of the reasons I'm apprehensive of the end of my time here.  You see, just a couple of weeks ago, he moved out of his own place, the very first place that he had ever called his own, to go live with his best friend.  And just like me, he was lead to have to move earlier than he had planned, and as the days wore on towards his move, I watched and observed with a keen interest. 

The experience was tough for him as he quickly dismantled his home.  He texted me pictures of things he was packing, and the sentiments he was feeling were much the same as those I've been feeling as I go through my things now.  Memories.  Reminders of time spent in my home. 

When the day finally came for him to move, though I didn't see him, I could feel him.  My mind empathized as he spent the last night in his own place, feeling sentimental and sad, and then the displaced feelings he experienced when he first began to settle into his new digs.  Now as my time approaches, I feel that my own last moments here will be even more sentimental and sad.  I am not looking forward to that, but I know he'll be with me, be it in body or spirit, and that makes it all a little better. 

I may or may not reflect a little more in my remaining days here, that depends on the time I'll have.  We shall see.   In the meantime, my guy has settled into his new environment well, and luckily for me I've got a great place to take my mind off of the past and get excited about what's to come.  Stay tuned... 

Welcome to Switzerland: Hello Amy, Davide, and Lausanne

After my little three-day stint in Amsterdam, I was to spend the rest of my vacation with my friend Amy and her husband David, who live in Lausanne, Switzerland.  Our plan was to hang out in Lausanne for about six days and then head on to Paris for the end of my trip. In the end it was like two separate trips for me, the one alone in Amsterdam, and this one, and though both were wonderful in their own ways, the second part with Davide and Amy were extra special because of them.

Welcome to Switzerland!

After only an hour's flight from Amsterdam, I was in Geneva, Switzerland.  Davide and Amy live in Lausanne, about 45 minutes awayy by train, and so I hit the rails and in no time Amy and I were bear-hugging at the Lausanne train station.  After a quick stop at a local cafe (I needed it!), we went back up to their place where I finally, after almost ten years, met Davide.  All I can say at this point is that he was as warm and welcoming as Amy, and as the next week or so wore on, he and I became fast friends in our own right.

From the very start, Amy was like, whatever you want to do, let's do, but as she and I always do, and with Davide in the mix, we had wine and cheese and meats and talked through till the wee hours of the morning...a perfect relaxing start!

Lausanne

Now I'd been to Switzerland a couple of times before, but on both of those trips I was in Luzern and Zurich and both times it was in April.  Those two cities are in the German speaking part of the country, more to the east.  Amy and Davide live in Lausanne, which is in the French speaking region and more to the west.  The city is located on the shores of Lake Geneva (which they call lac Leman), across from Evian, France.  It is also home to the International Olympic Committee.  I'd never been to Lausanne before this trip, and so my first full day was spent checking it out...

Amy and Davide live in the vicinity of the lake, and the major portions of Lausanne are located up the hill from there, so bright and early Saturday morning, she and I headed to the city's one subway line to get to the city center.   Maybe because it was a Saturday and maybe it was because it was the height of summer vacation season, but the city reminded me a lot of the city of my father's birth, Trieste, Italy, with the appearance of a mid-sized city, but with few people.  We meandered through the quiet streets, checking out the sites as well as the produce offered up on Saturday farmer's market day.

And of course, there was shopping!  Amy brought me to this very cool, Century 21-like department store where she helped me do some damage, but I am gonna look oh so good this year, lol.

Let's Get French

All in all, the day was a fun one, and again, just spending time with my buddy was what made it so.  Later on in the evening, the three of us had been invited to the home of a gay couple (who's names escape me at the moment), one of whom was cousin to Amy's friend Sylvie.  Neither of them spoke English, and so most of the evening was spent with the four of them speaking French and David and Amy stopping every once in awhile to keep me abreast of the conversation.  It was really a lovely evening, with good food and wine, and pleasant company, though admittedly for the first time in my life I wished I'd known French.

I do speak Spanish fluently and a little bit of Italian, but I French always confused me.  The rules of pronunciation in Spanish and Italian are pretty steadfast, but French is a whole other story,  Luckily, Amy had learned the language quite well in her nine years in Switzerland, and that day she slowly began teaching me both how to say words and what they meant.  That night I was also introduced to a little bit of French Swiss culture, which turned out to be a funny little sidebar to the rest of the trip.

Before heading out to the dinner, both Amy and Davide showed me that when you first take a drink of your wine and do a sort of cheers, you have to look the other person in the eye and say the word "Sante," which I took as "shantay," a la Rupaul.  Well, that was something I couldn't seem to get quite right during the rest of the trip and made for some pretty funny moments.  

So that was my first full day in Lausanne, definitely one to remember and the rest of my time spent there was equally as delicious!  Stay tuned...

In the meantime, check out my other posts on Europe 2018 below:

I❤️amsterdam, Part II:Canals, Red Lights and Coffee Shops

I❤️amsterdam, Part I: The City & Architecture 

I Was On a Paris Train

Staring at Another Blank Page, And it Looks Promising

Even though I've been back at work for two days already, it all really starts tomorrow.  That's when the kids come back to school, and now I'm finally getting excited.  I had the roughest end to a school year in my fifteen years of teaching back in June, and I left it behind thinking something would have to change.  I had a great summer, but when I got back yesterday, it felt like I was in the same bad place I'd left two short months ago. 

I came into a new classroom, the remnants of the tornado that was my last week still evident all over the place, and in between all of the beginning of year meetings, I've somehow managed to make it presentable for the students.  Coming back to school this year has not been what I envisioned it to be so far, and I'm hoping that once I'm with my kids, it will all come together, and this time it'll be better than ever!  Big change is happening in my life, good change, and I want to bring that feeling of optimism into my classroom, as well.  The blank page of this year is full of possibilities...

I usually post Natasha Bedingfield's Unwritten on John's Music World for the beginning of the school year, and I still may.  It's one of my all-time favorite songs and to me it contains some pretty perfect words of wisdom for life:

Staring at the blank page before you

Open up the dirty window

Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance

So close you can almost taste it

Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you

Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten

I've spoken about these lyrics many times and this time I let them speak for themselves.  For me they take on a new meaning at the start of this particular new school year.  I am being cautiously optimistic, but I've been telling my friends lately that I feel I am at the beginning stages of a long-awaited Renaissance in my life.  Though plans I had been making had all fallen to the wayside over the summer, new doors are opening up for me.  My professional life is clicking on all cylinders, and even my love life is showing some signs of well, life, and I feel like everything is starting to fall into place.  

These sentiments are partially evident in my last two posts, It's Happening and You Get What You Give, and now that summertime is over and I'm back to the grind, it's time to carry these feelings into the new school year and beyond.  I want to make this the best year ever for both myself and my students, and to reach for and get what I've been looking for so long...a better place!  And it all begins tomorrow.

Good luck to all of you teachers out there in this new school year.  Here's hoping the blank pages of yours are filled with nothing but happiness and success.  You deserve it!  

You Get What You Give: A Note of Thanks and Some Advice

I am one lucky person.  Well maybe not that lucky.  I am at a point in my life where a lot of things are starting to click.  Big changes are about to happen and for the first time in my life that I can remember, I feel really good about where life is headed.  If you read my last post, you'll know that after twenty years in my house, I have decided to sell.  It's one of the biggest decisions I've ever made and as the days have passed since that post, I'm actually starting to get excited...but that's not what I wanted to talk about...

When I posted It's Happening the other night, it was late.  I pretty much hit the 'publish' button and called it a night.  Well, I woke up the next morning to almost 500 page views, 80 likes and 50-plus comments on Facebook, as well as several texts and messages, all entirely supportive of my decision.  I was literally overwhelmed with emotion from it all.  I even heard from people I hardly connect with much anymore, and it just got me to thinking of how lucky, yet not so lucky I am.

I'm lucky because I have a support system of incredible people around me...friends, family, colleagues, and even simple acquaintances.  I don't always remember that until something like this comes along and boom, even the simplest of gestures gives me a feeling like no other.  I am humbled and feel very blessed. 

Once the house had been put up just yesterday and I posted the pictures my friend and realtor Ricardo had taken, the love and support flooded me all over again.  Lol, I don't know if it's the gay or the Italian in me, but I shed tears several times from all the compassion.  I just want to say here and now thank you to each and every person who reached out to me over the past several days.  Having every single one of you in my life is a blessing that I cherish!

That being said, I am a firm believer that this isn't all luck, and thus this teacher's advice to any of you reading.  You always get back what you give, and I like to think that the love and support that I give to anyone in my life is what I am feeling back right now.  I'm not saying I'm perfect, but I think I'm someone who's heart is always in the right place and, well I think I'm a fun person to be around, too, so...

So please take heed this little whatever you might call it.  If you're genuine and kind you're going to find that that it will come back to you tenfold.  I am proof of that.  If you don't behave this way, well, karma can be a bitch.  There's not nearly enough kindness in the world, so if you want to feel the love like I have these past few days, then you've got to give it!   

 

It's Happening!

I just spent the past five hours packing.  Not packing for a trip, but really for the unknown.  You see, I've been making these tentative plans in my head for about the last two years and I really still don't know what the heck I'm doing, but I do know it looks like I am selling my house. 

I've been avoiding this decision for a long time now, but with summer winding down and a new school year ahead, it is time to dive in and just do it.  To be honest, I am scared and sad all at the same time.  I'm scared because I have no idea what to expect, no idea where I'll be going, and I dread whatever headaches will be coming my way in the process...

But most of all, I am really sad.  As I take pictures off the walls, put my belongings in boxes and organize them into a staging area for moving in my basement, it all seems so real.  This is really happening and it's hard to believe.  Just a couple of weeks ago, I hit the twenty year mark of living in this house, the longest I've ever lived in one place.

Back in 1998, my ex Joe and I bought this place together after having rented for about seven years.  I remember at first, I didn't like it.  I preferred another house a few miles from here, but Joe, who was an interior designer by trade, saw the character and potential in this place, and convinced me.  And I've loved living here from the day we first moved in. 

He and I spent both a wonderful and tumultuous ten years together here, and when our relationship ended, I really thought the house would be sold in the aftermath.  Little did I know, I made an emotional decision to buy the house from him and in the ten years since, I've created a new life for myself and have had wonderful times here. This is what I know.

The house is perfect for one person.  It's small enough to take care of and it's big enough for entertaining friends.  But it has become too much for me to take care of, both physically and financially and I know that I have to do this.  The real estate guy is coming Friday and I would imagine after that there'll be no turning back.  Sigh!  Stay tuned....

I❤️amsterdam, Part II: Canals, Red Lights and Coffee Shops

This post is not meant to be a review of the city of Amsterdam, but an overview of the things I saw and did while I was there.  Hopefully the photos I've included will entice you to visit this marvelous little metropolis.

Amsterdam is such a lively, compact and beautiful European city.   Amongst the quaint and uniquely Dutch edifices that make up the city itself, you experience the whizzing of thousands of bicyclers peddling their way to one place or another, trams carrying the masses to and from work, and of course, the canals.  At any given moment, while walking around, you may come upon one of a myriad of these picturesque waterways for which the city is partly famous.

    

Canals

Here are some photos I snapped of some pretty beautiful canals, both big and small:

Red Lights and Coffee Houses

Amsterdam is also known for being a very liberal city, perhaps one of the most liberal in the world.  Between the infamous red light district to the legalized cannabis, people who enjoy participating in the more risque things in life flock to the city to partake in the world's oldest profession and the world's most popular drug.  Wherever you find a coffee house, you will find the almighty weed, and whether or not a visitor chooses to partake in either of these things, you can't help but notice...

So, for what it's worth, I enjoyed every moment of my three days in Amsterdam.  To learn more about the city, check out iamsterdam for everything from soup to nuts, and in the meantime, stay tuned for the rest of the story of Europe 2018.

Also check out I❤️amsterdam, Part I: The City & Architecture & I Was On a Paris Train

I❤️amsterdam, Part I: The City & Architecture

Amsterdam is one of my favorite cities in Europe, and when I had the opportunity to spend the first three days of my vacation anywhere, I chose to come here.  I'd been to Amsterdam before, twice on school trips, but never on my own, and I was excited at the prospect of seeing the beautiful city in more of its entirety.  I wasn't disappointed.

There are so many things about Amsterdam that I love, the architecture, the scenery, the people, the openness and the quaintness of it all, and of course the canals.  Here are some photos and comments on this wonderful Dutch city that you should surely visit at least once in your lifetime.  Check it out...

Amsterdam is a small enough city to navigate (though admittedly I did get lost on more than one occasion, lol.)  The one thing to remember is that Amsterdam Centraal, the main train station in the city, is pretty much central to everything.  Whenever I did get lost, all I had to do was look for signs that pointed to the beautiful edifice at the center of it all and I could easily find where I wanted to go.

Architecture

The city of Amsterdam and The Netherlands in general is famous for its architecture, and there are plenty of beautiful edifices throughout the city.  The Dutch style is very uniquely geometric, and very pleasing to the eye.  Here are some examples:

This style of architecture is not the only style found in this beautiful city.  There are plenty of other beautiful buildings and sites all around town that give you the feel of being in a European city.  Check out these pictures:

Rembrandt Square

Well I'm realizing that Amsterdam is too special a city to cover in just one post, so I'm going to leave it here for now.  Stay tuned for many more beautiful photos and commentary on this wonderful place...

See also I Was on a Paris Train

  

Lost

outsidethebeltway

In another piece written by one of my students, a young teenage girl from Guatemala writes about her harrowing journey from Central America to the United States. Freshly arrived, she wrote this as an essay in Spanish and translated it via Google translate.  As I read through the piece in my editing stage, I thought it read more like a poem.  To me, it captures the inner struggle that these children must face and the constant fear they endure during their voyage.  Check out Lost...

I am a Guatemalan with dreams of overcoming my problems

My trip started on December 4, 2017

With a prayer to God to take care of me on the way

There I left my childhood, my family

To come to this new place

With a lump in my throat, I said goodbye

Time progressed and with each moment

I was moving farther way from them

Two days by bus, we reached the border with Mexico

We crossed at night, in fear, ,among so many strangers

We arrived, locked away for two days until finally they came for us

A truck, ready to start crossing the desert

They dropped us at 3 A.M., 

with nothing but backpacks, water and a garbage bag

To protect us from the cold and the rain

In the morning, we were separated into three groups

Told to look for the famous line with guides who "knew where we were"

By the fourth day, we were all supposed to meet again

Unfortunately it was not meant to be

What happened to the rest of the group, I do not know

The guide went back for the rest, leaving us

On our own, to get to that line

I know he feared something would happen to us too

But he left us anyway, to walk through the desert on our own

Two days, no water, and the fatigue was surely fatal

The only thing we had was to ask God

To give us the strength to follow on

I don't know whatever happened to my travel companions

But I wish them the best since their decisions weren't easy either

As always, thanks for reading.  Stay tuned for more...

I Was on a Paris Train

The sadness first hit me as time wore on towards the end of another wonderful day in Paris.  It was Saturday, and anytime I made any sort of mention of the end, Amy wouldn't have it.  Goodbyes are always hard, and I'm sure they've been especially difficult for her in the nine years since she'd moved to Switzerland.  I understood that, and I tried my best not to bring it up, but then Sunday came too fast and suddenly I was packing to go home and the reality that the end was near really started to settle in once David started explaining how I would get to the airport on the train.

My trip to Europe was one of those special times I will always remember.  Almost all vacations are good, of course, but in the grand scheme of things there are certain ones that just stand out, and this was definitely one of them.

I'd started my trip in Amsterdam, a city that I always wanted to explore on my own (I'd only been there before on school trips with lots of kids.), and I loved it.  The rest of the time was spent with Amy and her husband David in Lausanne, Switzerland and then Paris.  Amy and I graduated from Stony Brook together (She teaches ESL, too!) and though our interactions since graduation had been sparse, when we do, she and I always connect like the old friends we are.

I'd last seen Amy back in April, when I visited Lucerne, Switzerland on a school trip.  Like before, she invited me to come visit on my own in the summertime and that's just what I did.  I'd never met David before, and when I arrived, I shouldn't have been surprised that he was as genuine a person as Amy was, very warm and welcoming.

For the last ten days of my stay in Europe, the three of us got on so well.  Amy became my tour guide to the Lake Geneva area while David worked, and the three of us spent lovely evenings together just chatting and enjoying each other's company.  Once we'd reached Thursday, David was officially on vacation and the three of us headed off to Paris, where for four days we spent a magically spontaneous, adventurous time.  And then there was Sunday...

David and Amy accompanied me about three quarters of the train ride to Orly Airport in Paris.  David carried my heavy luggage up and down stairs through the Paris subways, one last act of total sweetness.  We switched trains in Chatelet and on the RER we were going to part ways about four stops before my destination.  As we stood there in the crowded car, getting closer to their stop, none of us really looked at each other, avoiding the sadness of parting.  Soon, it was time for the two of them to disembark.  The train stopped and each of them gave me a knowing hug and kiss goodbye and then they stepped off the train.  Once the doors closed and they were out of sight, the tears finally came.

I want to take a moment to thank both Amy and David for their hospitality, their time, and most of all their friendship.  I will take the memories of this wonderful time with me as long as I have time on this Earth.  I am sure that after this trip I will see them both again sooner rather than later.  I love you both! 

Stay tuned for some European vacation stories and pictures...

      

Judge Us for Who We Are, Not What We Are

As promised, this will be the first of several stories written for my class' ENL Magazine that I spoke about earlier.  It was written by a long time student of mine and it speaks to the feelings of a young girl who has experienced both the good and the bad about coming here.  Take a look...

The United States is a country that offers many opportunities and is a much safer place than El Salvador, but the separation of races to me is ruining the beauty of this country. I am a high school student and it is sad to see how other young people my age see me so differently than they see each other. In the five years that I have lived in this country, I have learned to speak English, to integrate myself in the culture and the way of life here, and yet I have not made one American friend.

None of this has been easy. It took a lot of hard work to learn the language, to be able to communicate, and yet I feel so rejected. I feel so isolated from my American peers, and even some teachers, too. Sometimes I feel that I’m not treated with respect and kindness by them, and they never even try to speak to me. Now I'm not saying that this is everyone, it’s not. There are many very nice and kind people here, too, but the ones who treat me differently because I'm from another country, because I speak another language, or that I have a different skin color, makes me angry. These things don’t make me less than them. Being Hispanic doesn’t mean that I am not intelligent, or that I can’t do what anyone else can do.

This separating ideology that some people have prevents them from seeing that really we are all the same. If they just take notice, they will realize that there is no difference between an American and a Hispanic. We are all human beings! I don’t understand this separation. If we are equal, why are we treated badly because of our differences?

I understand that in my country there are bad people and that many of them come to this country and do bad things. They embarrass me and fill me with indignation and sadness to see that they are like that, but just because they are like that doesn’t mean I should be judged differently or badly. We shouldn’t have to pay the price for their bad behavior. Get to know me before treating me badly. There are as many young Hispanics like me who just want to study, be honest, not do bad things and not take people’s jobs away. I think that God rewards people who struggle so hard to achieve.

For every person who reads this, I invite you to give yourself an opportunity to get to know me, to get to know some of us. We’re not all bad. Know us and judge us according to what you observe in us, not simply because we are Hispanic. We’re not all gang members or murderers. You should thank God that you are blessed. You do not have the need to immigrate to another country for your safety, for food, or to just save your lives. Imagine if you had to move to another country for these reasons, and people there treat you with indifference, as we are treated here. Imagine you had to learn a whole new language in order to be able to survive in that country. Imagine what that would be like. I can tell you it would be frustrating.

Like I said, we are all human, with feelings, emotions, and each with our own problems. We are the same. So I invite you to leave that race-separating ideology, to not judge us without knowing us. Say hello. Make a friend. See that we are all good people with dreams to succeed in this jungle full of wild animals.

THANK YOU FOR LISTENING

My Purpose: An Introduction to "Why We Came and How We Got Here"

From my Facebook, about two weeks ago:

Hot off the press...after weeks and weeks of writing, re-writing and editing, this labor of love is finally complete! In this, our 15th edition, my students share some pretty compelling stories of why they came here and how they got here.

Like the generations of immigrants who came before them, these youngsters made their oftentimes dangerous treks here to escape extreme poverty and a very war-like environment.

They’re all great kids and they were afraid to share their stories because, well, we all know the attitudes towards immigrants these days, and so the only way I could get them to share their stories was to promise to publish them anonymously.

I’m very proud of ‘Why We’re Here and How We Got Here: True Stories of Young Immigrants,’ and I am thinking about publishing this as a PDF. Please click ‘like’if you’d want a copy. Thanks!

In the past couple of years it's become evident to me that I have a purpose in life.  It's something that I'm not yet totally comfortable with, but I find myself being driven by it.  From my own actions and reactions to the things going on around me lately, it's become pointedly clear that the things I'm doing are as natural to me as anything else in my life, ever, and so when the recently heated debate about immigration came bubbling to an ugly surface, I decided I had to act on it.  I put myself wholeheartedly behind what I do, what I live, and what I believe, and this is my truth.

It is with that in mind that I pointed my class' annual magazine in the direction of laying stories bare.  As one who teaches some social studies in my classroom, I know that primary sources of information, sources coming from those who have had actual experiences connected to a topic, are the best kinds of sources to go by, and so what better way to convey the stories of today's immigrants than to hear from them.  

Me and my students began this undertaking about six weeks prior to publication, and I'm proud of them for sharing what they experienced.  I've learned a lot about immigration from them that I never knew before, and I think that sharing the stories beyond the area of my school district is a worthwhile endeavor.  So I begin with my own introduction to the publication, a piece that lays out the process behind it.  Read on and stay tuned for some of their stories...

Dear Readers,

Welcome to “Why We Came and How We Got Here,” the latest version of our ENL Magazine. We began publishing this annual collection in 2004 in the hope that readers might gain a new perspective on our students, an often-misunderstood group of youngsters. To this point, I believe that goal has only been partially achieved. With the political climate of the country the way it is these days, misinformation and misunderstanding about the immigrant experience has reached an all-time high, and so our purpose for this year’s edition takes on a greater significance than ever before.

A Class Project Leads to a Mission

Early in the school year, the students in my ENL class completed an autobiographical project. This wasn’t the first time I’d ever assigned such a task, but it was the first time I ever really had to sell them on something. You see, with today’s immigrants drawing such open criticism and anger, I wanted to gain a better understanding of their stories. I wanted to know the real reasons why they came here and what they went through in making their way here. Even though I’ve been working with these kids for so long, even I wasn’t aware of the real answers to these questions.

Virtually all of the students were reluctant to tell their stories, and it was a hard sell to get them to do so. I had to assure them that the things they were going to share would stay within our group. In addition to a written piece, the students were also required to make a presentation to the class, sharing not only their personal stories of why and how they came to be here, but other such things as what they’d put on their bucket lists, some of their favorite things, and even their hopes for the future. It was during these presentations that my eyes opened wider than they had in fifteen years.

For more than two weeks, each of my students came to the front of the class to share their auto-biographies, and I learned things that I may have suspected over the years, but never really heard told so openly. Laughter and tears, and plenty of anguish permeated the room with each presentation, and those watching even just one of them either commiserated with the speaker or became consumed with empathy.

Empathy. It’s a word I often use in my classroom and one that I wholeheartedly believe everyone needs a little more of. If we make an effort to empathize more, we might just gain a whole new awareness that we didn’t have before, and hopefully these new perspectives might make this world a more tolerable place.

Once our presentations had finished, we continued with the theme by tackling the NY Times bestselling book, “Enrique’s Journey” by Sonia Nazario. It tells the story of a boy from Honduras who makes the harrowing and dangerous trek to the United States in search of his mother who had abandoned him when he was only five years old. Once again, memories were jarred by the many stories found in the book. 

A New Mission

When the time came to begin working on this publication, it seemed that general attitudes towards immigrants had become even worse than before. New stories and videos showing harassment towards immigrants, more specifically Hispanics, seemed to pop up every day on social media. News outlets cover raids and roundups of undocumented immigrants, families being forcibly separated, children being held in secretive, jail-like camps. The list of stories goes on and on and the more we hear, the worse the situation becomes.

In the poem, “Push and Pull,” I speak of the plight of the many generations of foreigners whose desperate situations led them to immigrate to this country. Each group of immigrants had its own reasons for coming, and most often it was to flee danger or poverty. The stories of today’s immigrant are no different, only the rules have since changed.

So I thought that perhaps we, our little group of immigrants who chose to settle here in Southold, might do our own little part in helping people gain a better understanding of who they are and why they came. Their stories are sometimes raw and always very personal, and show just how desperate these immigrants must be to undergo such a dangerous journey that they are not guaranteed to finish. I believe that the immigrant population in Southold is a microcosm of the greater immigrant population and their individual stories reflect the experiences of the whole.

Again, selling this idea was a difficult task. Some of the stories contained within are highly personal, and I am sure that still there were difficult details that were omitted because of their emotional impact. I convinced my students that this undertaking will be worth it if we get even one person to see immigration in a different light. The idea of their stories being published elicited an even greater protest than the project had, and so in the end we decided that all of the stories published would be anonymous. I encourage you to read on with an open heart and an open mind.

Thank you,

John Myers

A Different Kind of Separation

From my Twitter, on Monday, edited:

This morning, one of my students, a 14 yo boy from Guatemala, came to school to take a final examination. When I came by to check on how he was doing, he wasn’t doing very well at all. It had already been an hour or so into the test and he was only on question #8.
“Did you study?” I asked.
He looked up at me and with tears in his eyes he said no. He gathered himself and added, “My mom is getting deported,” he told me.

It seems a local immigration lawyer took all their money, $7ooo, and never filed her papers in court seeking asylum. The judge dropped the case and ordered her out of the country in 30 days. Daniel can stay because he had the luxury of being abandoned by his dad when he was a baby. He is not my only student to have suffered the same fate.

Daniel and his mom were abandoned by his father when he was a toddler and are all one another has in life. Back in Guatemala, they were poverty stricken, oftentimes eating only one meal a day, and at 13 years of age, Dan was already within the sights of the local gangs, who would not take no for an answer once
they came calling.

His mom became desperate and reached out to an uncle for help in getting money to come to the U.S. The two of them traveled for weeks, a long and treacherous journey that had them walking for up to fourteen hours a stretch and going without food or water for up to two days.

Luckily, they made it here safe. That was a little less than two years ago. In that time, Dan has learned a lot of English and does what he can to help the two of them survive, working whenever he can to bring money into the house. They are still poor, but rich in comparison to their life back in Guatemala. They're both safe, too, and they still have each other. Well, for now. So they’ve lost all the money they’ve scraped up to an unscrupulous lawyer and in less than 26 days they will be separated barring some sort of miracle.

Daniel is the sweetest of boys, always with a smile on his face and a willing hand to help others by translating, helping with homework, and even cleaning the teacher’s desk for him. Now he faces being all alone at 14, the only other person in his life being ripped from his side.

Dan’s is but one small story in a million stories. He’s lucky he’s got me...I refuse to leave him totally abandoned. Thousands of others are not so lucky. Today’s immigrants are no different than the ones who came before them, leaving their families, their friends, their homes, everything, to escape poverty and danger. Only the rules have changed. We changed them when we starting not liking the places that they came from and we all need to know that.

To be continued...

A Year's Remembrance

I could never say enough, Owner, dearest friend, to thank you for the love you gave to me, until the end.

I’m sorry that I hurt you by saying my goodbye. You gave me such a happy home, I lived a happy life. I leapt and played and laughed in ways you maybe couldn’t see. Of all the pets you might have loved, I’m glad that you chose me.

It’s okay to miss me, for I miss you too.

It’s okay to bow your head and cry if you have to.

However hard it seems today, your dear sweet heart will heal.

For now, my friend, remember me and feel what you must feel. But don’t give up on loving, Owner, dearest friend. Although the cost is oh so high, it’s worth it in the end — to know that you made this pet’s life the best one it could be. It should be no mystery why you meant the world to me.

So here’s my final word, my friend, this is my last wish: Find another lonely pet, then give to them my dish. And every time they make you smile, know that I’m smiling too, still so proud to once have been a dearest friend to you.

Love, always.”

A year ago this morning, I was awoken to one of the most terrible phone calls of my life.  My little Diego, who had been in the hospital for three days, was under cardiac arrest, and the vet was calling to see if I wanted them to revive him.  Before I could even process what they were saying to me, I heard the woman on the other line say, as clear as day...

Oh, I'm so sorry.  He just passed.  

He was barely nine years old.  It was a snowy morning, one that I will never forget.  As with the passing of any loved one, I mourned the loss of my cute little fluffy monster, and I watched with great heartbreak the broken heart of Dylan, the brother who he'd left behind.  For months, Dylanito was so sad, and every interaction with him only made me feel sadder for myself, and even more so for him.  As they say, time heals all wounds, and this is very true.  Though it took awhile, Dylan and I have both healed from Diego's loss.  I eventually got used to having only one little kitty around the house, and he got used to being the only kitty around.

I sometimes wonder if Dylan even remembers Diego.  I have no idea how a cat's mind works.  Every once in awhile I'll say his name aloud to see if there's any recognition in my little, eleven-toed panther, but there is none.  That's a good thing, I guess.  He's definitely been over his mourning period for months now, and that helped me get out of mine...but I will always remember my sweet little sunshine.  

A few weeks after Diego had passed, my mother sent me the following poem above.  In times of sadness, it brought out the tears that helped release the pain.  I wanted to share it here in case any pet owner out there has the need to hear it too.  

It's hard to believe it's been a year already.  I haven't thought much of him lately, but Diego will be in my mind all day today, and Dylan will get a little extra loving, too!    Here's the recitation of the poem, Owner, Dearest Friend, by Vivian Matthews:

A New Year's Do or Die Reevaluation

Happy Freaking New Year!  Today is as good a time as any to once again take a step back and reevaluate our lives...well, my life anyway.  After what has been the shittiest and loneliest New Year's Eve of my life, the rock bottom of my 2017, there's no place for me to go but up, but not without some self-reflection and action.

I've been suffering from the flu since coming home from Philadelphia on Friday morning.  Not that I've been to the doctor, but I've had the flu before and I know the feeling...congestion, chills, severe aches and pains, etc.  Sans a phone call and a text or two, I've been completely alone for the past 72 hours and I'm feeling very alone.

I can't help but think that I'm the only reason for this.  I know and believe from Dan Millman's The Life You Were Born to Lead that by nature I can be a loner, and so my solitary tendencies, especially lately, have indirectly pushed the people in my life away.  Now in the state of mind that I am currently in, I could just say piss off and keep it that way, or I can try and do something about it.  What I think I'm actually going to do is reevaluate my relationships and maybe do a little bit of both.

So, resolutions...  Oh my God, there are so many things I need to resolve about my life.  A couple of years ago, I actually made a list of the things that I hated about myself.  Here are some of the ones that I still struggle with...

I smoke

I spend too much time alone

I feel stuck

I feel alone (haha, yep, that hasn't changed.  It's maybe even gotten worse!)

I owe money

I procrastinate

I am taken for granted

I'm just plain weird!

Yup, these are just some of the things that I struggle with each and every day, and if I keep doing the way I've been doing, obviously, then these things are never going to change.  So it's New Years...time to really evaluate how the heck I've been living my life.  I need to define what happiness means to me, because that question is ever-elusive, and once I do, then I need to figure out how to get there..  

Regardless, this is a mission, perhaps the greatest do-or-die mission of my life because I really can't take it any more.  If I succeed at at least one or two of these issues, then it's for the good.  If I fail, well...???  Stay tuned!

.