« Older Archive for October, 2009 Newer »

Thanks For Being My Male Role Model

Monday, October 12th, 2009 by Alyice

Growing up, I didn’t have a father-figure to turn to. My biological dad wasn’t in the picture, and the man on my birth certificate (my step-dad) divorced my mother when I was two and never again saw me. And while the men my mother dated were always kind to me, they were, in fact, married men—not the best role models for a young girl. Then there are the men I encountered growing up in the projects: abusers, drunks, drug addicts, gang members, molesters, slouches, and even a flasher.

Yes, finding a good male role model wasn’t an easy task. But it did happen—and on several occasions throughout my time in the projects. And for that, I will be eternally grateful.

First, there was Mr. Price. Mr. Price ran the parks and recreation department in our community. He busted his butt to come up with the funds for after-school and summer programs, summer lunches, summer camp, and yes, even holiday treats. He was always there to provide a safe haven and encouraged us, kids, to “be the best” we could be. When you walked into the parks and recreation room, you were no longer living in the projects. You were transported to a club for kids. True, the surroundings were mediocre, but you completely forgot about those surroundings the minute you walked in those doors. Mr. Price never singled one child out from another and he made each and every one of us feel special. And when one of us couldn’t afford to attend summer camp, he found a way to make it happen. And when one of us needed a boost in morale, he found a project that would provide that boost. When the parks and recreation budget was cut, and he was forced to retire, it was a sad day indeed. Nothing was the same again—but his legacy will forever remain in the hearts and souls of each of “his kids”.

Second, there were two father figures (Uncle Sonny and Uncle Dottie) who surprised the hell out of me and showed me that good fathers—loving and caring and safe fathers—do exist. For a time, I was blessed to feel as though I were an extended part of their families—attending family celebrations, invitations to family outings, and being able to just show up and play with their kids without fear of bullies or uncomfortable situations. And it was nice.

Third, there was Mando. Mando was a single man living in the projects and he had the hugest crush on my mom—unfortunately those feelings were never reciprocated, though they were good friends for several years. Every time he chatted it up with my mom, he made sure to spend a little time with my sister and I. He took me and my friends to the local drive-in theatre to see my first Superman movie and later, to see Every Which Way But Loose. And every summer, he’d show up on the Fourth of July with the biggest box of fireworks I’d ever seen and tell us that the Fourth of July just wouldn’t be worth celebrating if we couldn’t shoot off a few fireworks—that was truly a huge blessing as my mom could never afford the luxury of buying them. Aside from the gifts, he was genuinely sweet and kind. He showed me what it meant to show respect to another human being through both words and actions. And he showed me what it meant to give without expecting anything in return—to give simply for the joy of giving. The day he got a job offer too good to pass up he asked my mom to go with him, but she declined. He moved away. I was happy for him and sad for me.

Fourth, there was a young man, six years my senior, who showed me that no matter your circumstance in life, you can choose to be better, to do better, to feel better. His name was Charles and his father was an abusive drunk. Yet Charles was sweet and kind and surprisingly optimistic and happy. He used to tease me a lot and his favorite was to call me “Amazon” for being so tall for a kid my age. One day, I asked him why he teased me because it hurt. He said, “I just want to toughen you up. You can’t let other people’s words hurt you. I want you to be able to walk tall, with your head held high.” I have never forgotten that day, or those words. And while I’ve forgotten the message at times, his strength of character—and that incident—helped me “walk tall” and not be ashamed of wanting something better for my life; for fighting for something better.

Fifth, there was an uncle of a friend. His name was Kevin. He was a true gang member in every sense of the word and people feared him. But I never did. He intimidated me, but I didn’t fear him. He never gave me reason to. Every time he came by, while I was visiting my friend, he gave me a lesson in “living on the streets”. The one lesson that stands out most are the days he’d walk up to me, with his cane in hand, and get right up in my face. He’d get as close as one human being could get to another…waiting to see me flinch. He’d tap me with his cane, on various areas of my body, and tell me that those areas showed others I was afraid or intimated. Then he’d tell me to stand up tall—to not let others see the fear in me. Each time he came, I got better at standing my ground, and each time he came, he intimidated me. Then one day, I succeeded. I stood my ground and I showed no fear, no intimidation. He smiled at me, looked me right in the eyes, and then said, “You have a pretty smile.” Lessons done. Kevin made a huge impact on my life. He showed me how to “survive the streets”—and his lessons came in handy on more than one occasion. A few years ago, he was gunned down simply for denying a young girl entrance into his “all adult/alcohol drinking” party. He had turned his life around, and made a positive impact on society, and he will always be someone I am grateful to have crossed paths with.

Sixth, there was a young man, five years my senior, who often acted like my big brother. His name was Ralph and he was good at reminding me that I was worth something—that I was special. He always had a kind word for me, would look out for me, and would not allow anyone to do drugs around me. I remember one day, arriving on his front porch for a visit, to find he and his friends using a bong. Immediately upon seeing me, he made his friends leave and take their stash with them. When they got upset and asked why they had to leave and I got to stay, he said, “I don’t want her doing this stuff and I don’t want it around her.” In an ironic twist of fate, those words—and that incident—stayed with me for the rest of my life. Whenever asked if I wanted to try this or that, his words resonated with me. Even when we drifted apart, and he was no longer in my life, a part of me wanted to make my “big brother” proud.

I had often wondered why, in all the years I lived in the projects, I didn’t miss my “father” or why I didn’t choose a self-destructive path when it came to men. Looking back, I realize that it’s because of men like this—men who took the time to help me believe in myself and give me the courage to fight for something more. They knew I wanted something better and they took the time to guide me to that something better. And for that, I say “Thank you. Thank you for giving me hope”.

Give thanks…

Posted in It's Gratitude, Dude! | 1 Comment »

First Etsy Sale

Friday, October 9th, 2009 by Alyice

This past week I had my very first sale on etsy. In the past, I listed a few things and never, ever promoted the etsy site as I was too busy promoting my online magazine. However, this time, I decided I’d spend an hour a week, for now, promoting the site and see where it leads. To my surprise, I received my very first order!

The lady who ordered was very kind. You see, the connection for including shipping fees in the order (from etsy to Paypal) was screwed up so the order she placed didn’t include a shipping fee. I emailed her to explain the situation and ask how she wanted to take care of the shipping fee, but when I didn’t hear back, after 4 days, I assumed she no longer wanted the piece so I cancelled the order. Several days later, I received an email from her stating that she appreciated me letting her know the situation and that she would order another of my products, instead.

I shipped her order out on Monday, getting a rude awakening on Priority Mail shipping plus delivery confirmation fees. Now, I’m just waiting to see if she has anything to say about the piece.

I am secretly hoping she’ll “love” the piece as it was the hearts vase I created in memory of my Grams (you can read about it here). And though a part of me wanted to keep it, another part of me really wanted it to go to a good home.

I’ve sold several items online, over the past nine years, so I understand that not all customers let you know the order arrived in one piece, or that they even liked it. But wouldn’t it be so very “sweet” if she did?

And here’s the art jar I sent along with her order as a “thank you” for being the very first customer to order from my etsy shop! I kept it a secret so it should be a nice surprise. Here’s hoping…

Keep Creating

Posted in The Art Jars | 9 Comments »

Thanks For Being Great Siblings

Wednesday, October 7th, 2009 by Alyice

When I was a little girl, I loved my sister but I didn’t like her and she could say the same of me. For reasons beyond my comprehension, we were always at war with each other. We were as different as night and day, and it showed…

She was three years my junior, street-smart, funny, outgoing, and very much loved by her peers. She was brave and daring and not afraid to try new things, to defy the elders, or to be herself. She was also reckless and manipulative and a fantastic story-teller—able to spin the truth any which way she saw fit.

I, on the other hand, was book-smart, far too serious, introverted, and not liked much by my peers—as they mistook my shy and timid nature for being stuck-up. For some reason, I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders and the fear I felt inside stopped me from truly exploring who I was and what I could do. I was also far too cautious and honest for my own good and not very tolerant of the flaws of others.

Can you imagine living in the same house with someone and not having one kind word to say to (or about) one another? Eventually, I moved out and we went our separate ways, only to get updates about each other via our mother (who has now passed away).

Some days I wish I knew what caused such a rift in sibling love. Growing up in the projects, we could have really used the support of one another. Growing up with a single mother who was overworked, overstressed, and had very little patience for either of us, we could have given each other the emotional support and unconditional love we both felt was missing.

Other days, I think our mom had something to do with the rift—she’d often verbally state how she wished we would get along, but intentional or not she’d do something that put a rift between us; that pitted us against each other. And I am sure it didn’t help that our mother often made me responsible for my sister and blamed me for any time she got into trouble or got hurt.

And then there are days that I am just glad to be able to move on with my life, that I am able to put that part of my life behind me—that all the hatred and animosity and sadness and guilt is over with.

Don’t get me wrong. There are still days that I long for a better relationship with her, but I’ve come to realize that too much damage has been done. We’ve tried. It didn’t work. We all know people who bring out the worst in us—people we choose to avoid for the betterment of our health. It doesn’t make either of us a bad person, just means we weren’t cut out to be friends.

And so that brings me to what I am grateful for today…

Having gone through what I have with my sister, and struggling over the past ten years to build a sisterly-bond with a half-sister I only found out about as an adult, I worried that I wouldn’t be able to give my kids what they needed to have a great sibling relationship.

But nothing could be further from the truth.

My children know that they are loved unconditionally and that while we may love each child differently, we do not love one more than the other—we do not have a “favorite”. And it’s that security, I believe, that has allowed them to build a strong sibling love.

My son is quiet and reserved, extremely intelligent, and has strong work ethics. My daughter is loud and outgoing, definitely not reserved, and struggles with academics but is very street-smart. Both are laid back (they get that from their dad), fun loving, adventurous around the right people, and enjoy a good laugh. Both have a sarcastic nature that can stand up against the best of them (they get that from grandpa) and both have trigger points that cause them to be short-tempered (they get that from me).

And they get along beautifully!

There are times that I am blown away by how much my children love and respect each other. Nothing warms a mother’s heart more than seeing her children enjoy each other’s company, stick up for each other, and genuinely want to be around each other.

Yes, I am blessed with two wonderful children who’ve made being a mother a dream come true!

Give thanks…

Posted in It's Gratitude, Dude! | 1 Comment »

Pages: Prev 1 2 3 4 Next

AlyiceEdrich.com
I'm a freelance writer, mixed media artist, SMVA, and the owner of The Dabbling Mum.

Copyrights

All material on this blog belongs to Alyice Edrich, unless otherwise noted. No project, artwork, or text may be reproduced or displayed elsewhere without the consent of the creator. That includes making derivative works for resale. Please use project tutorials for personal use and/or gifts only.