Sunday, May 30, 2010

Loretta, Mr. Gordon (and Jill)

If our weekly gathering is the ultimate party, our seniors are the ultimate party hosts. Our core group of seniors is constantly bringing their friends and siblings to join our class – and I mean that literally! I’ll never forget the moment several weeks ago when I saw Bernice proudly walk in with her cane in one hand, and Mr. Gordon in her other arm (who is blind and also has a cane of his own). Mr. Gordon has become a regular member since.

At the same time, volunteers from our team have emerged from behind the scenes, and are frequently taking time out of their busy days to be at class as well. Besides working on this project as a volunteer, Jill is an assistant professor at Temple’s School of Social Work. I feel so fortunate to have her on the team and to be learning from her expertise about the more clinical/therapeutic aspects of our project (stay tuned for more on this in future blog posts). Below are Jill’s reflections on her visit this week, as well as her transcriptions of two of the seniors’ verbally told stories.


Jill’s short story
May 27, 2010

Today I visited the creative writing group at the Philadelphia Senior Center to observe and help with the project. Not only was I welcomed into the group, but was embraced by their contagious spirit. I heard beautiful stories of personal growth, reflections about parental love, and heartbreak associated with loss. The experience was moving—at times, I was moved to cry and at others, I was filled with joy. I feel fortunate to be involved in such a wonderful project.

Lorretta’s story
May 27, 2010

I was daddy’s little girl and I knew it. My daddy would give my anything that I wanted. Sometimes I’d tell lies on my brothers and sisters. Then I’d laugh, and say “ha ha, you got a beating.” I did this to get ice cream.

I remember my dad came to school one day. My daddy said, “I’m going, Lorretta.”

“Where are you going, daddy?”

“I’m dying.”

“I don’t want you to go daddy.”

My daddy died when I was five years old and that was the last time that I had ice cream. It took me a while to cry it out. Now I don’t have my mom or my dad, but my mom always prayed for me and never turned her back on me. I’m living like I’m supposed to now.

Mr. Gordon’s story
May 27, 2010

Back in the 1960s or the 1970s when racial discrimination was a big problem and the Civil Rights were in full swing, I was working for the American Friends Association. We mostly worked with young people. We tried to address the gang activity and we did things like play basketball, sewing classes, teach pregnancy prevention and things like that. One thing in particular was this weekend work camp where we’d bring suburban youth so they could experience the inner city and spend the day with an African American so we could start a conversation. It really troubled us as men that suburban youth only saw the worst parts of African American communities; they only knew what they saw on the news and that were just one side of the story.

A specific interaction that occurred on one of these weekends stands out in my mind. An African American man said to a white a girl, “You’re white.” “I am,” she said. He took out a cue ball and said, “This is white. It’s whiter than you. So why are you called white?”

This started a good conversation about race and how people are different. It helped us to talk about how you can’t believe everything that you see on TV. This program helped people in the city get a perspective on the suburbs. Suburban kids got a perspective on the inner city and the chance to meet African Americans who aren’t involved in gangs and aren’t shiftless or lazy.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Pretty Picture

You gotta check out this beautiful flier that Henrietta made! I love this. Just got this today and have to show you right away. She turns in a full stack of pages every week (today's page count: 13) and once in a while, they include collages. Don't you just love the the little hearts and butterflies and giant lollipops? And how she says, TELL... YOUR STORY? And the word "party"? I guess seeing this just makes me so happy because here we are, in name a writing class, but in spirit, simply an outrageously good time. And btw, yes, the seniors are pysched about our Leeway Grant. Today, when I broke the great news to them, they immediately SUGGESTED bringing teens into our project and incorporating video just as I was about to propose the exact same thing. Yay!

Henrietta (Something Little I Saved Over My Lifetime)

Recently Henrietta wrote an open letter asking you what you’d like to hear about, and you responded via Facebook! Well, surprise surprise… you got what you asked for. Check out Henrietta’s response back to you. How cool is this? And how surreal? It’s a conversation that takes a little longer than face-to-face, no doubt. But it’s a conversation nonetheless. The seniors really are getting a kick out of Facebook. Every class, we check if there are new comments and read them out loud. So comment away! Ask and they will answer.

Henrietta Faust
May 13, 2010
Greetings Readers

Greetings, Readers:

I received your requests and will write about my mistakes in life. Be it known I’ve learned that some mistakes are a resource that teaches me new lessons, because these sources all work together for good.

And I shall write of my successes, which I define as a constant arriving at the next level, all life long. In each moment, I am correctly able to handle the new success.

And I will write about complications that I experienced in life. And little things I kept in my life through the years. I shall start will a little story about my pet dog named “Bully”, the bulldog mix.

Plus – and I was so glad to hear from you via Teacher Cooper, that you said, “I enjoy your blog so very much.” Please keep reading.


Henrietta Faust
May 13, 2010
Something Little I Saved Over My Lifetime   

This story started in the summer.  When our female dog went suddenly missing.  We searched all over for her.  We cried, “Our dog is gone!”

Then the owner of Plantation stopped by and he cursed at my Aunt Nancy saying, “That #*@! of yours - you better keep the #*@! away from my #1 blue ribbon champion bull dog!”  And, as my aunt smiled and bowed her head, not ever daring to look up, I knew my aunt was glad to know that our dog was still alive.  And she said, “Ya-sur.  I sure will.” 

So soon after that our female dog came home, dragging her tail low.  And, she went under the house and stayed and stayed until one day we hear puppies crying.

(to be continued . . . )

Henrietta Faust
May 20, 2010
Greetings, Readers

Story about pet Bully the Bulldog pet cont.

We heard puppies crying under the house. We were surprised and someone crawled under the house. And there they were a littler of bulldog pups. The children were thrilled and surprised but a look of absolute. Fear was on my Aunt’s face. I was wondering why? But I know we were poor so that must be why so much fear was on my Aunts face. So when one of the children were thinking which puppy was theirs, but not so fast. At that moment the slave master rolled up his gleaming bright car.

(to be continued . . . )

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Helen (The Lion King)

Now that I've calmed down a little bit (just a little!), let's get right back to the seniors' fabulous stories. And speaking of theater, here's Helen talking about how much fun she recently had at "The Lion King". I wish you could've all seen her face when she read this story out loud. Her eyes were absolutely glistening the whole time. This story will put a smile on your face. I'm guaranteeing that right now!

Helen H. Lahr
May 6, 2010
The Lion King

I am still thrilled about what happened last Thursday. I was sitting in the dining room (waiting for Benita, our chairperson for the writing class) when one of the staff members entered the room, came around the table, and whispered in my ear, “Have you seen The Lion King?”

“No.” I answered.

“Well, I have a ticket for you.”

You can imagine how surprised I was. I asked my friend who was sitting at the table to tell my daughter where I was when she came to pick me up at 3:30. She assured me that she would do so.

I walked out of the dining room into the lounge where I waited for the other lady who was going to the theatre. When she came, we walked out of the building. At first we were going to walk the three blocks, but looking at our watches we realized that we would be late if we did so. We soon decided to flag down a cab. One came by immediately.

When we entered the theatre, two young ushers approached us. The young man took my arm and escorted me down the aisle, and the young adult usher escorted my acquaintance. Our seats were choice ones – on the third row from the stage! Can you believe that? One hundred and fifty dollar seats!

Well, we settled back in our seats and the show began. The sound effects, costumes, dancing, singing, and the colors were superb! Oh, yes, I forgot to mention the acting, need I say more? The story of The Lion King was very good and had a happy ending, which I like (smiles).

Afterwards, we returned to the Center, where my daughter was waiting in the car. I can only say that this was an unusual experience that I shall never forget.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Ok… Ready for This? We Got Our First Grant!

YES YES YES! WE GOT OUR VERY FIRST GRANT: THE LEEWAY FOUNDATION ART AND CHANGE GRANT!!! TO HOST A SENIORS STORYTELLING DAY!!!!! SORRY ABOUT THE ALL CAPS BUT I’M HAVING SERIOUS TROUBLE CONTAINING MY EXCITEMENT!!!!!!!!

This grant – whose objective is to support art projects for social change – is pretty competitive and I am still in shock that we won. As you know, our project began only months ago with two core media: the classroom and the web. With the Leeway grant, we can now add two new components to our multi-media storytelling project: performance and video.

Seniors Storytelling Day will be an event, happening at the end of this year in a public venue in Philadelphia, where teens and seniors will get up on stage together, to tell the seniors’ stories to a physical audience. During the months leading up to the event, the teens and seniors will collaborate closely, and the teens will document the process in writing and video, so that this event is not only about one day of stories but also half a year of the teens’ and seniors’ personal transformations.

I can't even tell you how pumped I feel about all this. Even before starting this entire storytelling project, it has honestly always been my personal dream to connect seniors with teens (two groups who are often misrepresented by society) and give them a chance to empower one another in a way that we as observers may not know how.

Stay tuned. We’ll tell you our plans as they unfold. (OK, GOTTA GO SCREAM SOME MORE. I’M JUST SO SUPER EXCITED!!!!!!!)

Friday, May 21, 2010

Good-Luck Charm

Why do I always gush about my volunteers? Because they write me emails like this. Emily's  beautiful email was what I carried in my purse as my good-luck charm at the event last night, which was a lot of fun. (Thanks to those of you who came, and hello to those of you I met yesterday who are reading this blog for the first time!)

Thank YOU Emily for everything you're doing for this project, and for letting me post your powerful email here. I can't tell you how much your passion means to me - and the effect you have on our teammates is apparent.

By the way, readers, stick with us. LOADS are happening on this project behind the scenes. I truly believe that this project is nothing short of a series of miracles. We're still ironing the details so I can't reveal everything quite yet. But what I can say is every dream my volunteers and I have ever had is coming true: satellite classes and blogs, check; video branch, check; teen outreach, check; a public seniors storytelling event, check. Seriously, stick with us. The next few weeks and months will be full of some unbelievable announcements.

From: Emily Antoszyk
To: Benita Cooper
Date: Thursday, May 20, 2010, 10:22 AM

Benita,

Just wanted to say that I really love what you wrote in the blog about building friendships. It actually made me reflect a little bit on my grandfather, my relationship to him, and the relationships he kept until he passed away, which didn't extend much beyond his immediate family.

My grandfather was a diabetic, a survivor of two heart attacks in the 1970s, and a very ornery old man (but a big softy underneath - especially for his granddaughter!) By the time he moved to Charlotte in the 1990s, he wasn't in the best shape. In fact, in his last few years, my mom said that doctors would look at his charts and proclaim, "On paper, this man should be dead!". Until reading your essay today, I hadn't thought much about what was keeping him alive for all of his 89 - almost 90 - years. Sure, it was his fiery spirit, but I think more than that it was debate. My grandfather would counter just about anything anyone would say, playing devil's advocate. Sometimes I couldn't tell if he truly believed what he was saying, or if he was trying to get me to think. To be honest, I think he liked the sport of it, the way debate kept his mind sharp and helped bring interest to his relationships.

My grandfather was fiercely independent. When he stopped being able to drive and have daily interaction, his health started to deteriorate more quickly. I think the idea of going into an assisted living facility, for him, was the kiss of death. I remember once visiting a nursing home where he was staying temporarily and being completely terrified; most of the residents I saw in the halls were completely listless, without response when you walked by. Upon reaching my grandfather's room, I felt much better. There he was, stubborn and complaining as always (but maybe it was because he knew his stint there was only temporary).

Anyways, this wasn't meant to be a depressing story, but that seems like what it is turning into. There were a lot of funny and quirky things my Gramps and I did together that I will have to share when I make it to the class sometime. The real thing I wanted to say to you in writing this e-mail is: Thank you. Visiting nursing homes I've been to always makes me sad. For some, they seem like places to dump older relatives that begin to need extra care. Maybe I have just been to a few that do not have strong social networks, but I think of what a difference human contact, and friendships, can make in a persons quality of life. I know that a spark was ignited every time I visited my grandfather. My dad said one of the last conversations he had with his dad was a debate about football. You really are giving a generation a voice that is oftentimes forgotten, something to look forward to every week, and a breath of fresh air. You are also giving younger generations new ideas of questions to ask, and in terms of me at least, new things to reflect on. Bravo!

Thank you so much for all that you do!

Emily