Halloween (Carolyn, Elliot, Ann, José)

Happy Halloween, everybody! Today we’ve got a collection of tricks and treats from the lives of our older buds. Just a heads up that Ann's story features a teacher being a creep to his eighth grade female students. If that bothers you, you can hit Ctrl+F and skip to José's story "Supporting Traditions":

Carolyn Boston

10.31.2019

Dressing the SPHYNX’S

Today is Halloween. Memories flood my mind about experiences I had during the Ghoulish holiday celebration. A friend of mine had two Sphynx cats Icky and Boogshie. She made Halloween costumes for the cats. She dressed one like a Hawaiian dancer complete with hollowed out coconut shells for a bra, grass skirt, lei and pikake flower for the cat’s head. (The flower was on a headband on the fur kids head). The second cat was dressed as a pirate—patch over the one eye, boots, pirate’s hat and an accompanying sword! I’m telling this story because I saw the snapshot of the cats in their outfits. I wish I had them to attach them to this page. The expression on the faces of the cats was hilarious. If they were able to talk I could hear how much they hated being dressed up and how thoroughly disgusted they were. Both cats were scowling—their faces were locked in a frown very few humans could mimic. Tears of laughter started rolling down my face, because I knew if those disgruntled cats could have beaten her up, they would have. It was a sight I’ll never forget (remember, Sphynx’s don’t have hair). She was serious about the costumes the cats were in.

 

Elliot Doomes

10.24.19

Childhood Days I Remember

 

I could never fool anybody at Halloween. It never mattered what I put on. Everybody always said, "Come on, Elliot. We know its you." I guess I had a distinctive walk or something. One time, I dressed up as a cowboy with a mask, but I didn't fool anybody. I had a devil costume with a hood to it, and I still didn't fool nobody. Sometimes, I would just put on some old clothes I had out grown and cut some holes in them, put on a floppy hat and old shoes with iron on the heels and tips and put soot on my face and dress up as a hobo. And, I'd have an empty wine bottle with tea in it and stable and stagger down the street like I was a drunken bomb. That's what people called you back in the day when you were a consistent drinking. It didn't matter if you were a working many with a steady job. If you got drunk on the weekends, they'd say, "There he goes again, that drunken bum." People didn't use as much profanity back in the day as they do now. Nowadays, they'd call you much worse. The biggest par about Halloween was pretending to be someone else. That was a big kick for me.

Did we get a lot of candy on Halloween? Yes, we did! We got everything. We got packets of candy corn. We got miniature Hershey's; we got potato chips, we got those sour jawbreakers. Sometimes, we even got apples. I never liked the jawbreakers because they were hard. I used to trade them off for chocolate kisses. Once in a while, one of my friends mom would have a little party where they'd put apples in a tub and we'd try to bite them.

We had pretty safe holidays back then. We never had candy with razor blades in them or pills that looked like candy. And we had an area we went to and we never went past there. And by 8-8:30, we were exhausted and ready to go home and go to ed. It was easy back then. We didn't need to be chaperoned by an adult to make sure we were safe. And we used to brag about. "Oh we got this," or "I got so many of that" and it was fun. But Halloween is not fun today for most kids in certain sections of the city. It's not safe or fun. I mean you have to tell your kids to inspect the candies they receive and make sure they're in a sealed package, and make sure they never go alone and only in large groups.

Children today don't remain children for very long. Childhood ends before their time and I think children have to grow up real fast in this society in which we live today. They grow up real fast. I wonder one day if we'll have no children, if the circumstances and conditions forced upon the at an earlier age now a days. I mean, we expect children today to be little adults. We don't want them playing, we don't want them to get their hands dirty. I mean we played baseball in the dirt, we wrestled each other and played football without helmets and all that stuff. We caught the ball and they would tackle us and our shirts would get torn in the dirt and it would be all in good fun. But kids nowadays are not allowed to remain kids anymore. I'm glad that I had the experiences of being a child to explore my curiosities, to try and attempt to do things that I was told not to. I still agree that we learn through our experiences. I remember reading with a question asked of a man how would you describe the sum total of your life. And he answered, the sum total of my life is my experiences.

Ann von Dehsen 

10.31.2019

Scary Teacher

In the spirit of Halloween, I’ve decided to write about the creepiest teacher I’ve ever had. His name was William Maier and he taught 8th grade science and math. He was about 40 years old, tall and skinny, and, in true psycho fashion, still lived with his mommy. He wore the same tweed jacket and skinny knit tie every day, along with thick horn rimmed glasses. His yellow teeth matched his yellow stained fingers, the result of frequent trips to the teacher’s lounge for a smoke. To disguise this habit, he constantly sucked on a Sen-Sen breath mint which only clashed with the scent of smoke. 
Every morning, my friend Carolyn and I walked to school in fear chanting, “Please don’t let his car be there” as we approached the teacher’s parking lot. But that little gray Volkswagen bug was there every day because Mr. Maier was famous for never-ever missing a day of school. Mr. Maier’s teaching philosophy was to instill terror in his students. His method was to walk up and down the aisles speaking in a monotone about 8th grade science subjects like engines, pulleys, levers, climate, and suddenly stop in mid sentence as he put his icy yellow fingers on the back of some lucky students’ neck who was supposed to complete his sentence without missing a beat. He often grabbed my neck after saying “and the 4 cycles of the combustive engine are” and when I or anyone else got the question wrong we’d be sent out to the hall to find the answer in the dreaded “display case.” I think the display case was meant for school trophies and awards, but somehow Mr. Maier had taken control and filled it with graphs and charts and encyclopedias. Carolyn and I spent a lot of time out in that hall with a few other regulars which was actually a nice break from the anxiety of the classroom. About once a month, Mr. Maier would pull out an ugly gray flannel bag filled with questions about things we had learned in the month before. If we answered correctly he would robotically say “go back to your seat,” if you got it wrong would say, “see me for extra homework.”
The man never ever smiled, but once in a while he would say very strange and inappropriate things to us girls, like, “You look good in that dress” or “I like your hair that way.” Somehow we made it through his class without developing permanent stomach issues. I do however freeze up if anyone touches the back of my neck. Even as I write this, my anxiety level has increased but I can also tell you that the 4 cycles of the combustible engine are intake, compression, power and exhaust. A fact I have never needed but also have never forgotten.

José Dominiguez

11.07.2019

Supporting Traditions

Halloween is out of my repertoire nevertheless I usher myself in the understanding and experiencing the joy of an extra holiday in my long list of holidays. 
The first thing I learned is that is proper to say Happy Halloween day! It’s related with something, I heard, about the crop day, something about witches flying but nothing serious and precise. The only precise thing was that my granddaughter Sofia was dressed as Sleeping Beauty and her face radiated joy as it was a real princess. Poncho my son was in a big hurry taking her out of the house to be in a candy path gathering with a huge orange plastic pumpkin in his arm. Before leaving he approached me asking: “Are you going to be around.” 
“Why?” I asked. 
“Because we have a pumpkin full of candies but if the people that go by the street does not see the candies they will not knock the door.”
“In that case, I replied, “I prepare to be outside and to give away personally the candies!” 
“OK” he said and to accommodate myself in the front stairs holding the pumpkin on my legs. Our street is not so domesticated so I had to be patient, productive and cheerful, I guess. In Mexico I used to be a street sales person so I did not feel shy or limited. My first customer was my neighbor across the street, Paul, a very conservative and affluent person of a few words and limited gestures, but he was going to give me 2 small chocolate candy bars and conspicuously said: “These are for Sofia, if you please” (I thought to myself: Thanks that he mentioned Sofia otherwise I had devoured those candies)
Well I took very seriously my task and decided to trace each pedestrian trying to do eye contact, later wave my hand saying Happy Halloween and if the response was positive I will stand up and walk towards the group offering with a big smile my pumpkin and once their hand was on the stuff, I will say “You can take as much as you want.” Well 2 French families cross by the empty street and each one took a single candy in a very polite and joyful matter, I thought well at this pace I will need 500 families to end my candy load. Some families turned to me saying “No thank we do not eat sweets because they cause dental cavities.” My pumpkin was full and some kind of anxiety was building in me. 
But some family groups of other neighbors arrived with wild outfits as Batman, robots, spiders, and generously took half of my load. At the end I finished with half of my pumpkin empty and with the satisfaction that I offer to each of the trick or treaters a chance to enjoy not only my candies but my wishes of a very Happy Halloween.

 

 

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you know older buds with spooky Halloween stories, then you or they can submit them through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

 

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all.

 

 

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

The Autumn of Appetite (Carolyn, Ann, Norman)

A silver lining to this pandemic is the gorgeous Autumn weather and the proliferation of restaurants with outdoor dining; especially considering how much of us missed dining at restaurants. In fact, during one of the first weeks of Best Day's Zoom sessions, I gave the prompt "What's the restaurant you miss the most?" I was surprised by how detailed so many of these stories were, and I thought I'd post them on the blog and see if any of the older buds got to eat at those restaurants since then.

Carolyn Boston

05.14.2020

The Restaurant I Miss the Most

I miss going to the Imperial Inn for dim sum. Imperial Inn was on north 10th street in Chinatown. The Imperial Inn unfortunately closed after 45 years, and the owner retired, and his son was no longer interested in taking the business over. For those who don’t, or haven’t had an experience with dim sum, dim sum is comprised of small Cantonese dishes served with tea. It consists of a collection of pleasing and sweet tastes from a variety of steamed and fried buns, dumplings and rolls. My favorite dishes were the fried calamari, the pork buns, the pork shu mai, and they were the most delicious ever.
Dim sum means “from the heart” in Chinese and it originated from small Chinese houses, were made for merchants that were traveling. And they added small dishes of snacks and provided tea for them as they went on their way.
I was introduced to dim sum when I was living in northern California, and my friends and I would plan to partake in dim sum at least a couple times a month. When I returned to Philadelphia I tried to find a restaurant that had dim sum. Fortunately, a coworker of mine loved dim sum, so we ventured out to the Imperial Inn. And a friend of hers had told her that the Imperial Inn was really good and that they served savory dim sum dishes. When we went we enjoyed the dishes, and were hooked!
So throughout the years we had gone to the Imperial Inn and enjoyed ourselves immensely. I truly miss that wonderful establishment. 

 

Ann von Dehsen

05.14.2020

Pinefish

The restaurant I’m going to talk about is Pinefish, which is on 12th and Pine Street. The atmosphere is very shabby-chic, so all the furniture is mismatched as well as the dishes. There are chandeliers with twinkling lights hanging at all different levels. One room has billowing parachute material hanging from the ceiling. There’s kind of a soft jazz music in the background and all. To me, I like it because it has the three C’s, which are – it’s cozy, it’s casual, and it’s comfortable. They have a $1 raw bar, and a happy hour ($5 drinks), and very good food.
But in thinking about this, much as I like the restaurant for its food and all, I like the restaurant for the memories of times that I’ve gone there. The first time I went there was when I first moved to Philly three years ago. My daughters took me there for my birthday, and it was five days before I was scheduled for hip replacement surgery. So Carolyn, this is for you because you can definitely know what I’m talking about. On that day, it was my birthday and I was in so much pain. I lived on 16th and Pine, was only four blocks away, and I hobbled to the restaurant thinking “I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to do this.” When I got there, everyone was there. We had a really good time, and suddenly I knew, everything was going to be ok. So I just remember that whole dinner and it was really nice.
Another time I met José for a long walk, and we ended up going to Pinefish for a drink, and we shared roasted cauliflower that we loved. And we just laughed the entire time.
When a girlfriend of mine helped me move I took her to Pinefish (which is now only two blocks from where I now live). And we had brunch there which was called “Friends with Benedicts”. And everybody there was in a good mood, laughing, and it’s just a very casual place.
So to kind of end this, I will tell you that on Mother’s Day, on Sunday, my daughters gave me a gift card to Pinefish (because it is open for pickup). But, I’m going to have faith and I’m going to hold onto the gift card and hope that some day I’m going to be able to go in there and sit there and enjoy it. So, that’s my story!

 

 

Norman Cain

05.14.2020

South Carolina Gullah Geechee Culinary Union in Philadelphia

Each year I would go to South Carolina as a child, and I would always enjoy having lunch and dinner at Miss Zillie’s Restaurant which was located in Pamplico, South Carolina, a tobacco warehouse town. And that particular restaurant was in “fresh grow season” the fresh slaughtered fowl and animals from the nearby farms; the workers from the nearby tobacco warehouses would come and eat.
And then on Saturdays when folks came in to enjoy the half-a-day that they would have off from their sharecropping activities, they would gather at Miss Zillie’s Restaurant. Miss Zillie was the sister of my father’s brother’s wife. And she would come down with her children and help in Miss Zillie’s restaurant.
Years later my aunt’s son Dan Junior, who was my first cousin, worked at a restaurant in Philadelphia that was the premier restaurant some 15 or 20 years ago, and had about a good 10-to-15 year run and it was called Mama Rosa’s Restaurant. They had several food trucks out, they were caterers and their main restaurant was very large, it was a very large parking lot was located in Broad and Huntington Park. The facility was large enough to have birthday parties, wedding receptions, etc, and at one time the Temple radio station would operate directly from there.
Now, each New Year’s for perhaps the last 50 to 55 years my aunt who was the sister of Miss Zillie down in Pamplico, South Carolina would have (and I just went to one this past New Year’s) she would always have a New Year’s dinner. And Mama Rosa’s, the premier soul food restaurant in Philadelphia, Mr and Mrs Ritter, that’s what their names were, would come to that New Year’s dinner, and I thought it was ironic that two culinary folk would gather together. It was like fate bringing them together.
Now, one of the things in my research that I found out was that there was a lady who died recently and her name was Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor. She was a culinary anthropologist, food writer and world traveler, and an actress. And she was best known for a cookbook that she wrote which was entitled “Vibration Cooking or The Travel Notes of a Geechee Girl”. Now, ironically my aunt and Mama Rosa’s folks were considered anthropology as being of the Geechee folk that were brought as slaves from West Africa and settled on the islands and coast from Cape Fair, North Carolina throughout Jacksonville, Florida. And with them they kept the same kind of culinary skills, the foods and whatnot and the way of preparing the food.
So that’s my story, how the South Carolina Geechee Culinary Reunion always took place for a lot of years at my aunt’s annual New Year’s Eve dinner.

 

 

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you know older buds changing with the times, then you or they can submit them through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

 

 

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all. 

 

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

In Spirit (Delores, Joan & Joyce)

It’s been seven months since the lockdowns started in Philadelphia, and we’re not completely used to it. Many of us were able to dine outdoors, attend Zoom meetings, and have socially distant get-togethers. But not everything is the same as it was before COVID-19. Best Day has moved to Zoom meetings, but many of our regular older buds can’t or won’t come to these meetings. I can’t blame them, since Zoom can be frustrating even for people who’ve used it before, and many of them are worried about online privacy. There are options to call in by phone, but those have their own issues.

Many of our older buds are going on walks, to get some fresh air and to brave their favorite stores to run errands. Many of the Zoom regulars are bumping into in-person regulars. Many of the in-person regulars miss Best Day and can’t wait for everything to go back to normal. And everyone on the Zoom meets misses them too. 

We’ve pasted a few stories from a few of our in-person regulars below. Enjoy:

 

Delores Wilson

12.12.2019

Back to the Future

 

We children (girls) looked forward to the favorable weather so we could be outside and play our favorite make-up game that consist of clapping our hands together in a circle with a rhythmatic beat.
We would say words in a poetic fashion. The words had to be consistent with the beat of the hand clap. By the way it was called “Re-Cha-Chi-Cha”.
Double Dutch was fun. Each girl had her own unique style of jumping. When we were going out we were getting car fare, but we preferred to walk and talk. Returning home we would ride back.

 

 

Joan Bunting

11.21.2019

The Day I Could Have Died

 

When I was twelve years of age, I was attacked with appendicitis. Within two months after the operation, I developed an infection.
Before I started having pain that night, my siblings and I had been eating raw peanuts all day.
When the pain had gotten so bad I started moaning and groaning. But the pain was getting worse every minute. My mother took me to the emergency room. The young intern told my mother that there was nothing wrong with me and that I just wanted attention. He gave me a dose of medicine, told her to put a hot water bottle to my stomach and sent us home.
As I was about to go up the steps into the house I threw up the medicine.
The pain got worse than it was before and my mother searched the rest of the night for her hot water bottle. She could not find it to save her life.
Now it was daybreak and the pain was so, so bad. Back to the hospital we went again. By then the head doctor was there. He examined me and wanted to know who was the doctor who told her to apply a hot water bottle to my stomach. She did not know his name and could not identify him. He told her that it was a good thing she could not find the hot water bottle because if she applied it to my stomach it would have busted the pus bag that had developed from the infection, it would have poisoned my system and that would have been the last of me on this Earth.

Joyce Woods

03.05.2020

I Wanted a Large Family

 

I don’t even know what I’m going to say.
Okay, I’ll talk about me.
Back in 1967, that’s when I decided to leave home and get married, I was 19. So a lot of people didn’t think that was quite a good idea. “Do you think you should finish school first?” or “don’t you think you should just wait a while? Maybe you should save more money.” My mother had a lot of older friends and my parents were elderly when I was 19. They were married 21 years when I was born. So they’re elderly and I came up by myself so I had a nice calm life. I didn’t even know I lived in the ghetto. This is on our block, I knew everybody, the same people when I left, and even the grandparents I would go back and take care of my mother. They and all the children would live on that block, the same parents lived there at that time.
So, as far as luck is concerned, I believe in luck, because I know what people mean when they say that. I know what their idea of luck is, and I understand your meaning of it too. I have very diverse life, so I think we have every religion in it from Judaism to Islam to African Methodist, Baptist and I’ve experienced it all. And what I’ve found, most people want good things to happen for their families. They want good honest life. Well I had decided since we didn’t have many children in our family at a very early age I think I was about seventeen that I wanted a large family. Eight to be exact. I would draw my little stick figures. The school I went to I got tired of blue and white uniforms, they were gonna have brown and beige, and I would draw that and it was it in my mind how I wanted these children. Because I was a woman, my father had died when I was nine, and I couldn’t understand why you would carry the father’s name, but I didn’t have a brother. So I said if I biologically have children, well they’ll still be a part of my father, and a part of me, and my mother. So I think I was a very mature child for my age by them being so old. All my friends were old. Even my mother would tell me sometimes, she showed me a picture after I was a teenager, she said, “you see all these people in here?” They were all seniors that had been my friends and passed away. She said, “There’s something wrong with this picture. Everybody’s on here’s dead but you.”
So I didn’t have hardly any friends when I got older too much but I did have a large wedding. It wasn’t intended to be large, it was supposed to be fifty people and I think the way I thought I wanted my mother to be happy because if I had lived with my boyfriend she would have died so I decided to go ahead and have a wedding. But it was supposed to be small. We ended up with nine children. The reason why we had nine was because, and they were all full-term natural births, I didn’t have any medication, nothing to put me to sleep, not that I was a hero but we were trying to eat right. During the first time that I first got pregnant we started reading books and started going to Lamaze classes, everything that we could get our hands on was trying to find out and it was a very nice experience.
So a lot of times, and you see I’m not really lucky, I don’t gamble. A couple of times I did try to play a number I never win. I’m talking about street numbers back in the day, right? So anyway I did it a couple of times but I don’t like to lose money, I like the shows if you go to Atlantic City. I used to be a lifeguard out there as a teenager.
Okay, sorry. Okay, one more thing.
So, after having nine children, a lot of people look at me like, “oh my God,” you know, they look at you like you’re a piece of meat or something, they have a bad idea. But I thought out how I was having children, and that’s what I wanted to do too, and I think that I have some pretty good children. Not everybody has the same type of experience but I think several of them have gone on to college and finished. One works at NASA and that gives me an opportunity to travel. I met a lot of the astronauts there. When they go different places I can go as long as I pay for my plane ride, everything else, I’m there, I could be anywhere else in the country. So they’ll send me tickets, and I can’t afford all of these things but having a lot of children in my family worked out nice for me.

 

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you know older buds changing with the times, then you or they can submit them through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

 

 

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all. 

 

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

Learning (Eleanor and José)

Things change. Ideas come and go. The only constant is change. When we're a child, we know all this. It's instinctive. Why wouldn't people want to change their lives when the changes are so obviously good for us. We shake our heads at how stupid adults are.

When we're in college and our twenties, we see even more new ideas. They're wild, free and exciting and we can't believe we'd ever though any other way. We know they're scary but the fear is half the fun. We take these new ideas and run with them, confident that if we can accept these new truths, we'll accept all truths.

When we're in our thirties, forties, and fifties, we start to get a little worried. Yes, change is good, but do we really have to change everything? Do we really have to uproot everything just because it's old? Isn't anyone worried about losing touch with our traditions, our culture, our history; all the good things we grew up with? And then we try to warn the young people about this and they just shake their heads at how stupid adults are.

We all think we're prepared for change until it actually happens. Former Civil Rights protestors argue with current Black Lives Matter protestors about how to tackle racism, prejudice and institutionalized oppression. Even if we want the same thing, we don't always agree on how to get it.

Best Day is all about sharing older buds' stories with young people, but that dialogue goes both ways. These stories, in particular, are about older buds learning how different their grandchildrens' world is from their own, and accepting it; and being really proud of their grandchildren. We're all still learning, but what's important is that we're all willing to learn.

Note: These stories contain references to racism and transphobia, along with some outdated terms for Black people. If you need to, skip ahead to "If you want to transcribe for Best Day"

Otherwise, enjoy the stories:

 

Eleanor Kazdan

09.17.2020

My Princess

Sometimes life throws a curveball. Gary and I could never have predicted what life has thrown at us out of left field. It was a gradual awakening that has now fully blossomed. We have been blessed with three extraordinary grandchildren, all born with male parts. I called them my three rowdy grandsons.
From the age of 18-months, the youngest, LuAyin, showed a passionate interest in all things girly: Beautiful scarves, dresses, jewelry, makeup, and all things sparkly. As soon as LuAyin could talk, he declared that his favorite colors were pink and purple. For his birthday he wanted Barbie dolls with fancy clothing and princess costumes. To no avail, we tried to steer LuAyin towards the boy’s section at target. He stood as stiff as a board in the middle of black T-shirts with pictures of cars and superheroes, lips pursed in a pouty frown. Next door in the girl’s section, he came to life, transformed by the sparkly dresses and fairy headbands. Movies with superheroes were out. He declared that only movies with beautiful princesses were acceptable.
When LuAyin was three years-old, we were chatting one day about his growing up, and as I said “becoming a man.” He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Grandma, when I grow up, I’m going to be a woman.” It was as clear as day, right in front of our eyes that LuAyin was a girl, but this reality was too daunting. We continued to use the pronoun “he.” LuAyin’s parents insisted that he wear his dresses and princess costumes only in the house, presenting himself as a boy to the outside world. An adult neighbor snatched his doll from him one day, refusing to give it back. “You can’t play with dolls, you’re a boy!”
About a year ago, with the reality sinking in, LuAyin was allowed to wear dresses and other girl’s clothing out in the world. She turned four in June and has definitively declared that she is a girl and wants to be referred to as such. It is astounding to us that such a young child can be so self-aware. We are trying to remember to use feminine pronouns. She has, at such a young age, fully transitioned to be who she truly is.
I always wanted a granddaughter, but I didn’t think it would happen this way. Life has sure thrown us a curveball, and it will be a challenging journey. But life has brought us a beautiful granddaughter; we couldn’t be more proud and happy.

José Dominiguez

09.17.2020

Singing With Sofia

When Beatriz, my daughter, was eight years old, I used to sing her infantile songs from Mexican Spanish author known as Cri-Cri is the greatest songwriter in Mexico of infantile music. One of my favorite songs was La Negrita Cucurumbé, (Little Blacky Cucurumbé.) I love the song because of the rhythm and the message. It’s about a little girl that goes the sea to try if the white waves could lighten her black face. The song lyrics continues: She wanted to be white as the moon, as the waves’ foam. But suddenly, a fish with a fancy hat appears and says to her, “Oh my gosh, but can’t you see how pretty is your face, Negrita Cucurumbé?” The fish message is positive in the sense that all children’s faces are beautiful just as they are. No need to lose the color.
In those times, the discrimination issue was not important to me, and I didn’t think too much about it. At least, for me, discrimination in Mexico was not an issue. Even when, for sure, it was a real problem for lots and lots of fellow Mexicans. In regard to the song appreciation for me, the music and rhythm was enough. Actually, I currently appreciate many songs in different languages, mostly Russian, French, Italian, Chinese, and English, regardless of the literal meaning of the lyrics. But, here in America, I found a different experience that has enriched my musical appreciation, and it’s that understanding lyrics matter.
Several weeks ago, I was playing with Sofia, my five-year-old granddaughter, and I invited her to sing; without that purpose in mind, I played in YouTube, a musical video of the Negrita Cucurumbé. She liked the music and accepted to participate, but when I tried to make her to repeat the lyrics, she told me, “What is the meaning of the song, Pepe?” So I explained that a little girl didn’t want to be black so she went to the sea to clear her face. She became serious and insisted, “I don’t understand, Pepe, why a little black girl wants to change the color of her skin. Please, tell me Pepe.”
I was surprised by the exploration of the meaning of the song and tried to explain the situation as if it was only a personal issue, not a social issue. So I told her, “Well, Sofia, people have the choice to select their preferences. Some white people want to have dark skin, and who submit themselves to sun and put skin darkener all over the body to change color. Some other people don’t want to change color and use hats, sunglasses and protectors, and some people with dark skin would like to clear the skin with lotion protecting the skin from the sun.” Sofia’s face didn’t change with the explanations. I guess I didn’t convince her. Perhaps she thought that there was another motivation that she ignored.
A few seconds later she told me, “But I think we must love our skin color.” Then, touching her skin arm told me, “I don’t want to change my color. I love it.” After that, I remember how Sasha, her mother, never takes decision based in skin color. Sasha also have a lot of things regardless of the skin color. Another thing that they frequently mention is that for them, Philadelphia is a great and beautiful bubble where friendship is the norm and skin color diversity is one of the many things that enriches our city community.
Sofia thought the same as the fish of the Cucurumbé song, that every children’s face is pretty. In the song, there is no mention of any social problem. So, for the moment, I kept the girl’s struggle as a personal issue.

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you know older buds changing with the times, then you or they can submit them through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

 

 

 

And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all. 

 

  

 

Curated by Caitlin Cieri

Golden Week (Mei, Philip, Michael or Man-Tin, and Robert)

This is a special week for China and Chinese people all over the world: a Golden Week that contains both China's National Day and the Mid-Autumn Festival. The Mid-Autumn Festival is a particularly important festival that celebrates family, harvest, prayer, the moon (natch) and is known for delicious mooncakes. During this holiday, it's important to remember that Best Day was inspired by our fearless leader Benita's phone calls with her grandmother, Mei Chiu, in Hong Kong. In fact, one of the first stories Mei told was about a widow woman who kidnapped her to raise as her own, and how much her parents struggled to get Mei back home. Connection with family is one of the most important tenants of Best Day, and it only feels right to honor Mid-Autumn with stories from our Chinese older buds: 

Mei Chiu
~2006
Two Mothers
From this story
 
When I was small, I had to serve two mothers. When I was a baby, about the time I was just learning to walk, a widow woman befriended my mother. At first the widow saw my mother in the market and approached her, saying nice things about her lovely baby girl. Then she joked about wanting to take the beautiful child. More and more the widow imposed her unwanted attention, until one day, the widow took me from my mother's arms and announced that from then on she would be my mother.

When Mei Chiu's mother returned home that day without her baby daughter, her husband was furious. His sister, Mei Chiu's aunt, began to negotiate with the widow for the baby's safe return. But that took years, and by the time Mei Chiu returned to her biological home, her parents had passed away. Only her sister and brother were there to tell her all that had happened. 

Philip Pai

09.12.2019

Story About Money

I have a friend who come from Taiwan. She told me she worked hard and saved some money for her children. She expected someday her son have good education and become a senator or president. One day I met her husband. He point to his son and said This young kid will be a command in chief in the country. Both of them love their boy very much. In order to help their son to study in the United States. Even buy a house for their son, but their son didn’t study as well or work. The couple very sorry for their child. When they talk about their son they always cry! Meanwhile I saw a lot of my friend when they come to United States. They were very poor, but their kids work hard and they also study hard. Years later, they have their own business and get Masters or PH degree. Every year they earn money and send to their parents who were in mainland China. The parents they are very proud for they have such a good child. Sometimes I think money can make people happy, proud or make a family cry. It depends how you use it.

Michael Man-Tin Chan

04.26.2012

Returning to My Own Country

It seems like quite a long time not to have seen our club members and I hope all of us will be good for the summer holidays. I returned to my mother-town (Soo Chow) to see my relatives and friends in Hong Kong for 2 weeks. The weather over there is very good during the summer time to see members of the family. We felt very happy get together, especially with the younger generations – they grow up very quickly. 

I have a very good feeling for the young members of my family, and hope to meet them again on my next trip.

Best regards to all our members.

 

Robert Leung

04.08.2010

Lucky Day

Today is my lucky day. My friend Mike and I came to visit this nice senior citizens center, and were fortunate enough to meet my new Chinese friend Benita on her birthday. She is a wonderful lady. She looks and speaks just like my daughter Dorothy.

I’m so very glad and happy to meet her, and all of our new senior center friends.

Forever friends,

Robert Leung 

If you want to transcribe for Best Day, then email us at info@bestdayofmylifesofar.org. You can also share our older buds' adventures by donating to Best Day, subscribing to our newsletter, sending a note to our older buds, or following us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And if you know older buds with stories of Golden Weeks, then you or they can submit them through our portal right here. We're especially interested to stories from Black older buds, but we're always looking for stories from older buds of color, older buds with disabilities, LGBTQIA+ older buds, older buds of any gender or sex, older buds of any religion, and older buds who just plain break the mold.

 

 
And don't forget to maintain contact with the older buds in your life. If you can't be there in person, please call them, email them, or message them on social media. And if they're using teleconferencing or remote events for the first time, give them a call and help them set things up. Check in on them to see how well they're getting used to these programs. Buy them a computer or an internet package if they don't have one of their own. It's a human right, after all. 

 

Curated by Caitlin Cieri