empowerment through critical reading and writing
"Life can only be understood backwards. In the meantime, it has to be lived forward”.

Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855)

Finding Voice

Monday, July 23, 2007

Linda: Silencing, screams and finding voice

My voice was silenced since I was a little girl
When I was a small child,I am told,
I had a very large voice,
a large voice and large sobs when I was unhappy.
I would run to my grandma, scared and silent
and hide beneath her skirts so I would not get hit.
I remember running away from my father-
a larger than life person with huge hands
and a voice that made me shiver when he called my name -
I was scared of being found and punished,
for my “big mouth”,
for being a chatterbox,
for minding my brother’s work and imperfections,
for carrying home the “tales of the day” from public school.
for things beyond my control,
such as wetting my bed each and every night.

My father was in the navy
And when he came home on leave
he looked tall and handsome in his white uniform
and shoes shinning like mirrors.
He played with us
until my laughter turned to pleading
for him to stop tickling me.
When I started to cry he became angry
and called me a cry-baby.
Then he’d start drinking.
If one of us misbehaved- we all suffered.
He would hit us over and over
while my mother stood outside the door
holding a tube of first-aid cream and band-aids
that did little to cover our bruises.

I knew fear from an early age.
I feared my father,
learned to hide and pocket my words – my sobs,
trying to find my bed before he found me.
But then I was afraid to go to bed,
scared to awaken in soaking wet sheets and be punished.
I was punished and hit if I asked for a drink before going to sleep
or ices and ice cream like my brothers and sister.
I learned that I was “a problem child” –
always needing more attention than the rest,
getting it in ways that left me troubled and more scared.
I learned early that silence would serve me best
if I wanted to avoid physical punishment
but sometimes I would forget
and had to run away to escape his wrath.
The “all clear” sounded in my head
when my father slipped off to sleep
and was oblivious to the chaos in a house with 4 children.

When I was a pre-teen
I was so terrified of my father
that I escaped by staying at school and doing extra work,
as late as I could to avoid conflict at home.
He became angry, and got me home to help with things around the house –
namely, my sick brother.
Upon verbalizing my resentment
I was silenced with the back of my father’s hand.

An emotional wreck,
I did little but cry
isolated in my room.
Began pulling out my hair,
creating bald spots that called for a wig.
The one I got allowed me to escape again,
covering all the scars
that might have shown I was screaming for help,
screaming for help,
begging to be noticed
behind this head cover.
I started to eat
and eat more
and more –
snacks,
cakes,
candy,
whatever I could get my hands on
to pacify my emotions,
to cover up the pain.

As a teenager
I tried to be silent
but could not silence the screams,
hair pulling,
over eating,
bed wetting,
over which I had no control.
Outbursts led to punishment.
I hated myself
and found new ways to escape the pain –
pills(for a condition my parents called “highly strung”).

My elder sister was protective of me
and I followed her everywhere she let me go.
When I wet my bed I would crawl into bed with her
and wet her bed also.
My brother Howard and I spent time together
getting high and trying to avoid trouble.
It didn’t work
My twin brother Harry developed epilepsy
as a result of a blow to his head
and at age 11 I became responsible for his wellbeing.
As his seizures went out of control
I began suffering from migraines.
The pain medication and tranquilizers I was prescribed
were the beginning of my addiction –
I was high most of the time on doctor-prescribed meds.

At 18 I ran into the arms of my husband.
I needed to be rescued, to be taken care of.
What a bad idea that turned out to be!
Now I had adult responsibilities and 2 children in my life,
still afraid to face myself.
I went from child to adult,
skipping all the steps in between.
I was divorced by 25.

I began a long journey of drug addiction.
popping as many pills as I could
until I had none left or was too sick to take any more.
I was running away from myself,
my problems,
my demons,
uncomfortable in my own skin.
I was confused and frustrated,
couldn’t correct the mistakes I had made
nor the course my life was taking.
I lacked confidence and was frightened
by the impulsive decisions I made
affecting the lives of my children.
I was ashamed and and did very little that was right.
I could not silence the nightmare which was my life.

With 2 kids in tow I went back to my mother’s
who berated me for not listening,
for choosing marriage and children too soon,
for being ungrateful,
selfish and stupid,
for not listening….
Ran away again and found myself a welfare mom –
angry, frightened and alone,
scared to learn on my own,
to take responsibility for my choices.

I moved from place to place throughout the years,
reinventing myself as I traveled about
so no one could keep track of my behavior,
my addictive self
the embarrassing things I’d done;
I moved from borough to borough, state to state,
changing my address, jobs and names,
to protect myself from criticism and judgment.
I was broken and homeless by the end of this story,
having gone through too many beginnings and far too many ends.

I am now a voice trying on truth for a change,
looking to drop off the lies, to become more honest,
lighter to carry myself from place to place.
I am now 50 plus and have chosen to stop running and hiding.
because I can’t hide from myself.
There is much work to be done
to live my life free from self doubt and embarrassment.
It’s time to shake the past off my shoulders
to get busy living in the here and now,
right now!

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Dakota

I’ve always loved dogs.
It’s almost like they understand me,
and I understand their need and desire to be loved.
Chew is my best friend.
I tell him everything, although not in words.
When I feel happy, upset or just plain down,
I go and sit with Chew.
I don’t have to talk,
I can sit still
and let my higher power speak to me in the stillness.

When I was young I was told

I was adopted from Canada,
that I’m Mohawk Indian and French Canadian.
Indians believe in spirit guides and so do I.
I feel that certain dogs trust me
because they know

I have the Wolf spirit by my side.
The wolf is the teacher,
the pathfinder
and moon dog of my soul.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

Patty - I am From…

I am from Barbie dolls and baseball bats,
I am from Girl Scouts and basketball,
I am from PTA
to NA and AA,
I am in Glory House
from living on the street,
I am from being half a person
to being whole again.

Mary - Today I am Proud of Myself

Life isn’t fair, but we have to learn from it.
I used to be a beautiful mother.
But when I was using I was nobody.

Before, I was on the street drugging.
I was smoking all day and all night,
hanging out with prostitutes.
My sister told me: “you will not be nobody”.
When we feel nobody loves us, we feel lost.

Today I am doing the right thing.
Getting a new foundation for life.
Finding myself by myself has given me power.

Today, when I look at myself in the mirror,
I laugh.
I am somebody:
Jesus loves me.
I love myself.

Today I am proud of myself.
I am a powerful woman.
I hold my head high.

Linda

First I took pictures of the flowers when they were very small and about 2 weeks later, when they had grown. I did that because they remind me of myself: when I got clean this time I was very immature, but now I feel that I’m growing each day, learning about myself, trying to please myself and not others. Like the flowers.

Fifi - I am From

I am from a broken family,
from hallways with a foul stench,
buildings with broken elevators.
Had a lot of good friends there:
Shannon, Troy, Malika, Charlene, Danielle.
They were supportive,
helped me with money.
We shot the breeze,
went to concerts,
but, mostly,

we drank.

Dakota

The next photo shows my half of the room. I share this room with another resident here at Glory House. At first I was not sure I would make it here. I was very reluctant to be here, however I was used to structure from being in prison. My problem was being able to trust others. My whole being had became hard in prison because I had to fight to get respect and show that I was not an easy mark. Today I can be myself not the inmate locked up like a caged animal. I lost the hardness that I had to have to protect myself. I found a higher power that is loving, and understanding. I found a new strength here at Glory House. I found a safe place or I should say - a safe place found me.

Betty - Why am I here and what is my journey

My life and mind have always been in a spin,
like a tornado.
Don’t know where I’m going,
but I know where I’ve been –
I’ve been through a lot in life
that shouldn’t have been.

Who knows what I’ll be doing?
Why am I still here?
What is my purpose on earth?

I search for a magic carpet
to carry me to my higher place,
and slip me wings
so I may soar like an eagle
through the soft clouds of heaven
and feel them gently touch my cheeks
with their soft kisses of love
on my journey to finding
my rainbow of happiness
on the other side.

Is there such a dream?
Maybe some day I'll find it
through the hands of God with His love for me.

Mary

I love my book, the lion book* Whenever I’m depressed or sad, when I think of my mother or my children I read it and it makes me laugh. This is a funny lion, like when he says: “I like the word hunter. I’ll go get me a hunter”. And if somebody asks me who I am laughing at, I say I am not laughing at anybody; I’m laughing at the lion.
I read over and over the parts that I already know, and when I get to a word that I don’t know, I just skip over it.
Sometimes I ask someone to read with me but they always say they’re busy, or they pretend they’re busy. Today I have this half cup of coffee. I think I will give it to Joan. Maybe she will read with me in return for the coffee. Or I can try and catch her when she is smoking a cigarette outside. Maybe then she'll read with me.
*Lefcadio/Shel Silverstien.

Annette - I chose to take a picture of an abandoned house


I chose to take a picture of an abandoned house
because two years ago when I was drinking,
I lived in an abandoned house.
I had abandoned myself and my life.
I didn’t care where I lived.
All I needed was to drink.

A guy named Dave let me stay
he wanted sex,
I didn’t.
He got mad and threw me out.
I was on the street again.

You can’t go any lower
than getting kicked out of an abandoned house.
Now, I can laugh about it,
Then, I hit rock bottom.

I asked God for help.

I also took a picture of Glory House.
It is my sanctuary,
my safe house,
my home for now,
my home away from home.
I am safe,
I have a warm bed,
I can trust everybody.
I can call if I fall.

I don’t want to remember
that other part of my life,
but I have to so I can remain sober!

Linda - I picked a picture of myself


I picked a picture of myself at a Mother’s Day gala,
I actually like how I look here.
I see happiness within myself.

For a very long time I was depressed,
I didn’t like myself,
I wanted to take my life.
I didn’t tell anyone
so they wouldn’t talk me out of it.
I was scared.

Started drinking at 15.
Drunk, I felt carefree.
A false sense of security.
I never felt right inside my body,
I know now it was from mental illness.
Always trying some substance,
looking for the “right” thing.
My husband introduced me to heroin.
It numbed me.
.
My life in the past 15 years was crazy:
lost my father, my husband.
I used all the time, never dealt with issues.
I liked not being able to feel,

not having to deal with issues in my life,
like being sexually abused by my grandfather,
like mom’s mental illness,
frustrated because
there was nothing I could do to help her.

Now I am starting to grow,
starting to get to know myself.
No longer numb.
Happy I didn’t take my life.
I have forgiven the people who have hurt me.
But it isn’t easy dealing with issues of my past.
It was easier using.

Glory House has given me back my life,
has given me a life.
I am smiling.

Patty - Tired

I was confused, falling apart,
feeling like a failure;
I felt alone, didn’t believe in myself,

had no hope;
I was going nowhere in my life

and I was tired -
tired of drinking,
tired of doing drugs,
tired of not working,
tired of not having enough money,
tired of feeling bad about myself,
tired of not being able to see,
tired of just being tired.

Now I am no longer tired
because I came to a place called Glory House.
Now I have people that I can call friends -
they believe in me and give me hope.
I go to my programs and am proud of myself
because now

I can be a better mother to my kids.
I believe in myself

and I am no longer confused.
Now I can see again.

Natalie - This is a picture of my newly acquired tattoo

This is a picture of my newly acquired tattoo,
a cross with a butterfly in the middle,

and in the 4 corners it says:
Only By God’s Grace.
I waited so long to get a tattoo.
I wanted it to have meaning, a story behind it.

I remember…
laying in a fetal position

on the cold concrete of a gas station,
excruciating pain.

I remember…
wanting so much to be out of pain,
wanting someone to make it go away.
I wanted to die.

I remember…
the pain,
not noticing how cold and wet the ground was
waiting,

waiting for an ambulance
yelling at the sky: God, please make it stop!

In the emergency room they decided to discharge me
again
as they had done a week before.
The drug levels in my blood were so high,
they thought I was expendable.
“There’s nothing more we can do for her”, they said.
“She’s bleeding on your floor”, my boyfriend said.
“You’re very lucky he came with you”,

they told me after the surgery:
ectopic pregnancy, internal bleeding, severe blood loss.

I believe God puts people in situations for a reason.
If my boyfriend wasn’t there…
If he hadn’t come…
I wouldn’t be sitting here today.
It was meant for him to be there.
Only By God’s Grace.

The butterfly in the middle symbolizes
a new beginning.
It is an excruciating process to become a butterfly,
an exhausting process.
It isn’t easy,

it takes a lot of work,
but to become that butterfly
I must work on getting out of the cocoon.

Joan - Where I'm From

I’m from cement stairs in the front and in the back,
making me wonder what I am:
am I a child or am I a woman?
Depends on the day and who I’m with.
What a crazy way to live!

These stairs are hard and cold,
as is the family and their hold on me,
so that at times I wish that I were not here at all
but in a far away place,
far, far and away
from the crazy place I am living in now.