I'm Proud to be ME!
Posted: Tuesday, June 28, 2011
by Patricia Barbee
http://www.patriciabarbee.com
A long time ago some idiot told me I was "poor". That has stayed with me most of my life. I'm more vocal now than then. The speaker would have gotten some strong words from me had I heard that now. I'd like to know by what standard I was judged.
My higher education has afforded me licenses, certificates, honors, have made some just stare at me as they dropped their chin in disbelief. I am surprised at times the path I've followed for vocations and avocations.
In the three neighborhoods I grew up in, we had a boxing Welterweight Champion.
Watching him win the title was the first time I ever stayed up past my bedtime to
watch television.
We had a Celtics basketball star, now retired pass our house in order to get to his.
We had a U. S. Senator over the hill at our park and a couple blocks over. He lived
next door to my sixth grade teacher. Two of my pals lived across the street from him.
I've never heard of any of the girls failing in life. We were too proud then and we
know we still must carry on the way we were raised. Some of us today are as
tight as diamonds in a mine and as secretive as the CIA.
Poor? All family members were gainfully employed or retired. The family elder graduated college in 1918. When my Granddad retired, Nana got a job in two
weeks. He was underfoot. [ "Someone had to leave the house", she told me after I
grown and he was with the Angels.] Later I became his full time job. I had no
chance to think of mischief. I was kept busy with school work; home work; neighborhood center activities, and chores. Being tiny saved me from doing dishes, sweeping and even dusting. I could not see what I was old enough to do. My feelings were not hurt. I still had to fold towels.
Poor? Religion was important in our home. Celebrations were great.
Poor? I never remember a paper plate in our home or Nana's.
Poor? All family dinners were served on china. We ate with silverware, not
stainless steel. We drank from crystal stemware or little kids, flat bottom
glasses. Yes, in Boston lace curtains were at our windows. I learned to
help Nana place the curtains on the stretcher to dry. Being little, I got the
bottom of the huge frame to stretch the lace over.
Poor? I learned to ride the famous MTA of Boston because we visited every
museum that the MTA would go near. Sometimes we made many trips to the same museum because the special exhibits kept changing.
Poor? Nana was a great briber. With the daily checks of my school work, I'd get
something I wanted. I loved shopping with Nana after the Sabbath in the winter.
The stores were still open. Bonanza! Then we'd shop for groceries. My treat was always a pound of cookies at 39¢ and one pound at 49¢. Heavenly!
Mom did not play Nana's game. "My job is to earn money to afford us housing, etc,
etc…..your job is to get good grades. Your report card is your paycheck" I learned
to vacuum Mom's wallet!
Poor? We traveled the East Coast and almost every community in Massachusetts
Poor? We went to concerts. From Sympathy Hall to local chorales and famous
stars to friends making their first solo appearance at Berklee School of Music
Poor? I met Miss Trotter who became editor and publisher of The Boston Guardian newspaper of very early civil rights history. She took time to talk with me. I was a busy bee. She was a beautiful flower about seventy years my elder, and she was so tiny, I felt comfortable in her presence. I inhaled her every word. I just knew her from the neighborhood. As an adult, I learned I sat and stood in the light of greatness.
Poor? I went to Sunday school with my neighborhood pals to learn something of
their religion. I later learned that the man standing in the hallway monitoring fourteen rooms of children was Rev. King. Time passed, Yes, he was the Rev. King studying for his doctorate at Boston University. He was associate pastor at that church.
Poor? Never, ever, would I think of marrying a Baptist minister! I did. He was one of Dr. King's Foot Soldiers, I'd learn later. In time, I'd meet many of Dr. King's Lieutenants and Foot Soldiers.
Poor? For me to mention the elders I've had for friends, would probably take two days to type.
Poor? That minister I married was also a United States Marine. His name is on "The Wall" in Washington, DC. Forever, he is a part of American History.
Poor? Never, what I have in photos, memorabilia and books will all pass away, but my memories are as rich as the gold paved streets of Heaven.
Patricia Barbee © 2011
Patricia Barbee
SearchWarp.com
Author!
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)People make judgments based on what they know. It's sad that so many can only use money as the base to form their opinions. They can't value lives rich in experience and happiness because they have not been taught to value it.
You sound like you have lived an abundant life. I wish more people could realize that they could too.
Great articleDeborah, you are a dear. I appreciate your comments. The love of friends makes my life abundant. Great Karma!
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