Subject: Re: you are a phenominal person!!!
To: S. Vega
Date: Saturday, September 6, 2008, 1:00 PM
Oh-h-h Sophia!!! This is my 1st time checking this site in days & what a pleasant surprise! Your letter is so very touching & moving! How could I ever forget S. Vega? I was truly thrilled to see you too at the NPS convocation at Pru. Hall on Thursday. It had to be divine intervention because you have honestly come to my mind every so often all these years,including recently. I always wonder how some of my favorite former students are and you were definitely one very high on that list. Whenever you re-enter my mind though I go back to procrastinating about trying to reach you and hoping you'll just pop up in my class one day like many other former students have.
How fabulous to know you're starting your 1st year of teaching now! With all the love you showed me as my student, I'm sure you'll shower your own students with that same precious gift. Some will go to their graves without showing appreciation and love to all the special people in their lives. Many students wait until years later to let some teachers know how they touched their lives but you were one of those who did it on a regular basis while in my class. It is students like you who truly make teaching worthwhile and give us that extra boost when the going gets rough as a teacher. Many students used to give me notes or cards which explained how I impacted them but you were one of the few who gave me gifts and often said or did such sweet things but left me wondering how I'd earned the honor of your admiration. Today, you have answered that question for me and I thank you so much for all of your beautiful words. Stay sweet, stay beautiful, and God bless. I will always love you and I hope we stay in touch!
Love, Miss Whitley
P.S. -- Which year did you graduate? -- It's funny you asked about Do Something. That's the last after school activity I coached & haven't done it since 2002 but just applied to coach it again this year! It's now known as "The League" and the Newark headquarters are still on James St. You can go to http://www.theleague.org/ also for more information.
On Thu, 9/4/08, S. Vega wrote:
Subject: you are a phenominal person!!!
To: sis joy
Date: Thursday, September 4, 2008, 1:37 PM
I was genuinely happy and excited to see you today! Sorry, I just couldn't wait to email you. With all of the students you have had---I was shocked you remembered my name and I am honored you did--thank you !! I know this may be corny and kind of cliche but I have to> > let it out... you were such a phenominal teacher to me--you gave me inspiration. you were so energetic and gave us so much information in a cool conversational kind of way. I learned a lot from your history classes--but I must be completely honest---what I remember most is how knowledgeable you were and the discussions we had and most of all if there was something that was not neccessarily in the text book--well you encouraged me to "read between the lines" and you know what?? I had NEVER even heard that expression before you! And now its a huge part of who I am and how I live my life. It is how I see the world to be honest (lol) I have always treasured all the little things you shared with your students...so although your a great teacher--the fact that you were so curious and would verbalize questions to us that you pondered and were just cool! really just a cool person--very humble and down to earth and had a conversational way of teaching and learning. It seemed like a college course. we all got into it and it was fun.
THANK YOU- really thank you. you reached me....and although you may have had tons of students before and after me---you were supposed to know TODAY that you really made a difference in MY life.
hey I still remember "do something" can you help me get involved in that? I know its my first year but I want to be like you ....and really encourage my 4th graders...call me or email me...loooooovee you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! --S.V.-
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Mental Potpourri by Lynn
I just found another pair of Lynn's writings!!! I can't help being excited. Could it be she is sending them to me or me to them? I have hungered for something more she'd left behind all this time. I searched all over her pc after she and our father's funerals, hungry for the few gems that I did find then. I don't know why I never looked so thoroughly through her laptop. Am I wrong? I mean, she had to know there'd at least be the possibility that we'd go through all of her things--including on her computers--and she had plenty of time to get rid of anything she did not want others to find. That's it then! These are her last gifts to us and that's that!
Mental Potpourri
February 4, 2006
The only choices are fear or faith.
I want to rage! “Sike”, no, I don’t…but isn’t that how I should be feeling?
What does it mean that I have no rage, no anger and no sadness about a life which has been wasted? Does it mean that I have lived a good life, filled with love and happiness? Does it mean that I really do believe that the pain or sadness that we experience makes us appreciate the good times? Is life really a roller coaster ride filled with ups and downs…but all of it thrilling? Is my glass always half full and never half empty? Let’s see, what else have I been telling Gia all these years…
Success should be designed by each person for themselves. For me, it has nothing to do with climbing the corporate ladder or making a six figure income. My wealth has always been about love and how much of it I have…creativity and much of it I can use…courage/faith and much of both of those I am willing to use. Climbing the corporate ladder was fun for me, as long as I was climbing to a new position that would entertain me. Making more money allowed me to do things for others or play a little harder. Neither are things that I put on my success page. My success page is filled with the people I’ve loved, the people I’ve helped, the people that I have inspired to be the best that they can be and things which have celebrated or showed off the gifts and talents that God gave me. The most fun & pain that I’ve ever had has been on the projects that I created out of thin air, nothing but a thought or nothing but a feeling that “I think I can”.
February 4, 2006
Have our jobs become our identity? What happens when, what was once the biggest focus of our lives (our jobs) become the smallest fish in our pond…Or that job no longer exists due to illness, retirement or loss of that job. Who are we then?
How are you introduced at a dinner party? What do you say when that dreaded question comes up “So, what do you do?” If you answer truthfully are you dismissed as un-important or un-interesting? What do we put on our business cards? Do we even carry cards anymore?
Mental Potpourri
February 4, 2006
The only choices are fear or faith.
I want to rage! “Sike”, no, I don’t…but isn’t that how I should be feeling?
What does it mean that I have no rage, no anger and no sadness about a life which has been wasted? Does it mean that I have lived a good life, filled with love and happiness? Does it mean that I really do believe that the pain or sadness that we experience makes us appreciate the good times? Is life really a roller coaster ride filled with ups and downs…but all of it thrilling? Is my glass always half full and never half empty? Let’s see, what else have I been telling Gia all these years…
Success should be designed by each person for themselves. For me, it has nothing to do with climbing the corporate ladder or making a six figure income. My wealth has always been about love and how much of it I have…creativity and much of it I can use…courage/faith and much of both of those I am willing to use. Climbing the corporate ladder was fun for me, as long as I was climbing to a new position that would entertain me. Making more money allowed me to do things for others or play a little harder. Neither are things that I put on my success page. My success page is filled with the people I’ve loved, the people I’ve helped, the people that I have inspired to be the best that they can be and things which have celebrated or showed off the gifts and talents that God gave me. The most fun & pain that I’ve ever had has been on the projects that I created out of thin air, nothing but a thought or nothing but a feeling that “I think I can”.
February 4, 2006
Have our jobs become our identity? What happens when, what was once the biggest focus of our lives (our jobs) become the smallest fish in our pond…Or that job no longer exists due to illness, retirement or loss of that job. Who are we then?
How are you introduced at a dinner party? What do you say when that dreaded question comes up “So, what do you do?” If you answer truthfully are you dismissed as un-important or un-interesting? What do we put on our business cards? Do we even carry cards anymore?
2 Poems --and then some--by Lynn & I
I just discovered these poems below in Lynn's computer. She wrote them 2/4/06, several months before passing. I'm at our home in NC again for Christmas vacation & my mother just reminded me that we aren't supposed to view the personal contents of anyone's computer--after reading the poems with me. Though she is right, I cannot help but view whatever I can in Lynn's computers. It makes me feel closer to her and I pray that she'll forgive any offense, be grateful that I am allowing her to live on through any part of her legacy I can dig up, and understand that my expressions of love for her through this blog are helping me & hopefully one day others to heal through ways unexplainable even to myself.
The 1st poem reminds me of how much the cancer altered her looks. First, the massive weight loss was a welcoming view for she & I and we spoke of it in the positive light of the cancer taking off the weight that we'd longed to say goodbye to anyway. She had been increasingly overweight for years. Although we'd attributed the much celebrated 40 or so lb. loss from fall 04' to spring 05' to the Adkins diet & a gym membership, it was great to see her so happy to finally fit into whatever she wanted within two months of her 1st chemo treatment. My mother who has also struggled with weight, steadily lost her own weight from being sick with worry the whole time my sister was ill. One fond memory & silver lining from this was when we went shopping one day that July & were all able to fit the same pair of pants for the first and only time. The 3 times I saw Lynn again before then & one yr. later, though the cancer kept doing it's dirty work with dramatic speed on her looks, she was often dressed to kill--and loving every moment of finally being able to look and dress sensually and otherwise however she wanted to again.
But all that materialism & skin-deep appreciation for that ever-changing new suit-for-her-spirit had stopped by the time she was bedridden that next July of 06'. She was such skin and bones by then that she would no longer get on a scale. And though I still deeply tried to believe she would not get worse, flashes of our sister Janet's last months just a decade before, kept coming to mind. Lynn lived in Atlanta then and she had told Janet early on she'd be up here the moment she needed her. So she moved up here and took care of Janet her last couple of months after a days notice at her career as "store manager and event planner" in a major supermarket (Kroger-Savon) the moment Janet let her know she could no longer take care of herself or Amina who was then eight. I was always knee deep in schoolwork even then (though it was nothing compared to now) and I've never gotten over that guilt. Janet's condition at this point still haunted my memory as I looked at Lynn that July of 06' but she still had her upbeat attitude and spirit all the time (even having a party from hospice and seeming so well there that August that they sent her home because she wasn't dying fast enough and they needed her bed for those who were).
But the destruction of Lynn's looks when I got back there shortly after Labor Day were so heartwrenching, that I cannot write of such pain other than to say that I put a pillow in front of her mirror after helping her back to bed following another challenging trip to the bathroom (because she proudly refused to use the wheelchair that hospice had sent her). I did this still hoping to give her hope after helplessly watching her look at the stranger in the mirror in a rare instance of sitting up in that hospital bed sent home to her bedroom--which she hated being relegated to.
Lynn's 2nd poem makes me think of how we often talked of our mutual longing to have children--and her countless attempts to get pregnant--including one hilarious account of dropping Viagra into the drink of her 2nd husband (who she was engaged to before her 1st husband)! It also reminds me that even though her seemingly undying spirit seemed almost gone from early that Sept. until the end (a month and a half later), there were a few moments and days even then when it would come shining through again. And she always made me feel it was because I was there by her side, still fighting for her to stay herself and stay here.
Who’s in the Mirror Today?
Who’s in the mirror today
Is it you so full of life and energy
Or is she back…that stranger, that creature, that other which has your eyes in her head and your secrets in her heart
Stolen Seasons
Babies that are never born
Children die well before dawn
Where is the teenager who loved so much
Where is the young woman with the grace filled touch
Seasons of love
Seasons of happiness
Seasons of ecstasy
I have been loved hard
I have loved hard
My life has been full, every season has been stolen
Every season has been a gift
I don't know why but I now feel a need to do add this, months later:
I went back to work a couple of months following the 3 funerals one week after the other of my sister, father, and father's first cousin Margie who was more like his sister. The two of them had lived part of their lives together as children plus she and her kids came to live with us for a while when I was a baby. Margie had just called me the day after my father died to come get a couple of hundred dollars to help with his funeral. When I called her to announce I'd be stopping by to get it two days later, I found out she'd been rushed to the hospital herself. Before I knew it, as soon as Daddy was laid to rest next to his mother in our family church's graveyard, most relatives rushed from his repasse to the hospital because we'd just gotten a call that Margie had just passed herself. She was buried on the other side of my father. It was already into Nov. by then and I couldn't go right back to work, especially with the holidays right around the corner.
After having had my family medical leave extended (which had begun in the beginning of the school year), I finally went back to work right after the New Year. On Lynn's first birthday after she died (Feb. 13th), I sent my mother, our cousin Gia, and Lynn's best friend Suky flowers before I went to work. At work that day, I wound up in an unpleasant conference over one of my kids who was partially taking out his failing grades on me. He'd always been very warm towards me before this and I found out later that this freshman had been taking care of his dying grandmother for years and was simply at wits end. Because I'd become so paranoid that my mother might lose her last daughter (me), after his threats, I had him removed from my class though I requested both consequences and help for him. We made amends a couple of weeks later and he sincerely apologized but he was still transferred from our school for failing most or all classes for the year although he'd lost his grandmother before the school year was over.
This was just one of many instances where I've never understood how some can treat people who are mourning. Though some support was given in both instances, we were both expected to carry on like our personal lives were just fine before and after these family deaths. I've added this in just to say, please take time to be more caring towards people going through something like this; you never know if it will be you, your loved one, or how you'll react. It's easy to judge when you haven't walked in someone else's shoes. I found out through a friend of his at my school that he seems to be doing alright at his second high school.
Though I've always longed for, yet never had biological children, I've always said I have a lot of children because all children are the sociological children of all adults --since we all influence them and thus help make them who they come to be--the job of parents.
Lynn always loved children and had a flock of sociological kids of her own who were crazy about her as well. Like I did at one point whenever I heard a former neighbor's baby crying, Lynn even spent more time with one of her friend's babys than the mother herself did. Another of her older close friends, Veronica even named her baby after Lynn and so did one of our cousins, Kim. I have two sets of godchildren myself and Lynn had her own godson through her other best friend Deborah. Well, you may think we're crazy but believe it or not, my mother and I now have peace of mind knowing that Lynn finally has a child of her very own. Unknown to most, my mother has always had "deja vu" experiences that were previously in her dreams. On the one year anniversary of Lynn's passing, she had a new experience that she convinced me was real:
Our cousin Judy had taken her to Charleston South Carolina for the weekend and as they left, Judy stated that they were "taking Lynn with them." They saw butterflies all along the hours drive and my mom said they could literally "feel" Lynn's presence. Then, in the midst of that night, when she got up to use the restroom, who do you think appeared in the doorway, grinning at her, before saying "Mommy; I brought someone to meet you" as she pulled a little girl who appeared to be five-- with my eyes and Lynn's bright, bubbly smile-- from behind her. She then asked, "Ariel, do you know who this is?" The girl replied with glee "Grandma!"
And then they were gone. Ariel is the name Lynn had always told my mother she would name her daughter.
The 1st poem reminds me of how much the cancer altered her looks. First, the massive weight loss was a welcoming view for she & I and we spoke of it in the positive light of the cancer taking off the weight that we'd longed to say goodbye to anyway. She had been increasingly overweight for years. Although we'd attributed the much celebrated 40 or so lb. loss from fall 04' to spring 05' to the Adkins diet & a gym membership, it was great to see her so happy to finally fit into whatever she wanted within two months of her 1st chemo treatment. My mother who has also struggled with weight, steadily lost her own weight from being sick with worry the whole time my sister was ill. One fond memory & silver lining from this was when we went shopping one day that July & were all able to fit the same pair of pants for the first and only time. The 3 times I saw Lynn again before then & one yr. later, though the cancer kept doing it's dirty work with dramatic speed on her looks, she was often dressed to kill--and loving every moment of finally being able to look and dress sensually and otherwise however she wanted to again.
But all that materialism & skin-deep appreciation for that ever-changing new suit-for-her-spirit had stopped by the time she was bedridden that next July of 06'. She was such skin and bones by then that she would no longer get on a scale. And though I still deeply tried to believe she would not get worse, flashes of our sister Janet's last months just a decade before, kept coming to mind. Lynn lived in Atlanta then and she had told Janet early on she'd be up here the moment she needed her. So she moved up here and took care of Janet her last couple of months after a days notice at her career as "store manager and event planner" in a major supermarket (Kroger-Savon) the moment Janet let her know she could no longer take care of herself or Amina who was then eight. I was always knee deep in schoolwork even then (though it was nothing compared to now) and I've never gotten over that guilt. Janet's condition at this point still haunted my memory as I looked at Lynn that July of 06' but she still had her upbeat attitude and spirit all the time (even having a party from hospice and seeming so well there that August that they sent her home because she wasn't dying fast enough and they needed her bed for those who were).
But the destruction of Lynn's looks when I got back there shortly after Labor Day were so heartwrenching, that I cannot write of such pain other than to say that I put a pillow in front of her mirror after helping her back to bed following another challenging trip to the bathroom (because she proudly refused to use the wheelchair that hospice had sent her). I did this still hoping to give her hope after helplessly watching her look at the stranger in the mirror in a rare instance of sitting up in that hospital bed sent home to her bedroom--which she hated being relegated to.
Lynn's 2nd poem makes me think of how we often talked of our mutual longing to have children--and her countless attempts to get pregnant--including one hilarious account of dropping Viagra into the drink of her 2nd husband (who she was engaged to before her 1st husband)! It also reminds me that even though her seemingly undying spirit seemed almost gone from early that Sept. until the end (a month and a half later), there were a few moments and days even then when it would come shining through again. And she always made me feel it was because I was there by her side, still fighting for her to stay herself and stay here.
Who’s in the Mirror Today?
Who’s in the mirror today
Is it you so full of life and energy
Or is she back…that stranger, that creature, that other which has your eyes in her head and your secrets in her heart
Stolen Seasons
Babies that are never born
Children die well before dawn
Where is the teenager who loved so much
Where is the young woman with the grace filled touch
Seasons of love
Seasons of happiness
Seasons of ecstasy
I have been loved hard
I have loved hard
My life has been full, every season has been stolen
Every season has been a gift
I don't know why but I now feel a need to do add this, months later:
I went back to work a couple of months following the 3 funerals one week after the other of my sister, father, and father's first cousin Margie who was more like his sister. The two of them had lived part of their lives together as children plus she and her kids came to live with us for a while when I was a baby. Margie had just called me the day after my father died to come get a couple of hundred dollars to help with his funeral. When I called her to announce I'd be stopping by to get it two days later, I found out she'd been rushed to the hospital herself. Before I knew it, as soon as Daddy was laid to rest next to his mother in our family church's graveyard, most relatives rushed from his repasse to the hospital because we'd just gotten a call that Margie had just passed herself. She was buried on the other side of my father. It was already into Nov. by then and I couldn't go right back to work, especially with the holidays right around the corner.
After having had my family medical leave extended (which had begun in the beginning of the school year), I finally went back to work right after the New Year. On Lynn's first birthday after she died (Feb. 13th), I sent my mother, our cousin Gia, and Lynn's best friend Suky flowers before I went to work. At work that day, I wound up in an unpleasant conference over one of my kids who was partially taking out his failing grades on me. He'd always been very warm towards me before this and I found out later that this freshman had been taking care of his dying grandmother for years and was simply at wits end. Because I'd become so paranoid that my mother might lose her last daughter (me), after his threats, I had him removed from my class though I requested both consequences and help for him. We made amends a couple of weeks later and he sincerely apologized but he was still transferred from our school for failing most or all classes for the year although he'd lost his grandmother before the school year was over.
This was just one of many instances where I've never understood how some can treat people who are mourning. Though some support was given in both instances, we were both expected to carry on like our personal lives were just fine before and after these family deaths. I've added this in just to say, please take time to be more caring towards people going through something like this; you never know if it will be you, your loved one, or how you'll react. It's easy to judge when you haven't walked in someone else's shoes. I found out through a friend of his at my school that he seems to be doing alright at his second high school.
Though I've always longed for, yet never had biological children, I've always said I have a lot of children because all children are the sociological children of all adults --since we all influence them and thus help make them who they come to be--the job of parents.
Lynn always loved children and had a flock of sociological kids of her own who were crazy about her as well. Like I did at one point whenever I heard a former neighbor's baby crying, Lynn even spent more time with one of her friend's babys than the mother herself did. Another of her older close friends, Veronica even named her baby after Lynn and so did one of our cousins, Kim. I have two sets of godchildren myself and Lynn had her own godson through her other best friend Deborah. Well, you may think we're crazy but believe it or not, my mother and I now have peace of mind knowing that Lynn finally has a child of her very own. Unknown to most, my mother has always had "deja vu" experiences that were previously in her dreams. On the one year anniversary of Lynn's passing, she had a new experience that she convinced me was real:
Our cousin Judy had taken her to Charleston South Carolina for the weekend and as they left, Judy stated that they were "taking Lynn with them." They saw butterflies all along the hours drive and my mom said they could literally "feel" Lynn's presence. Then, in the midst of that night, when she got up to use the restroom, who do you think appeared in the doorway, grinning at her, before saying "Mommy; I brought someone to meet you" as she pulled a little girl who appeared to be five-- with my eyes and Lynn's bright, bubbly smile-- from behind her. She then asked, "Ariel, do you know who this is?" The girl replied with glee "Grandma!"
And then they were gone. Ariel is the name Lynn had always told my mother she would name her daughter.
Daddy
After being childhood sweethearts and married for 12 years, my parents split up when I was 5...
After he started dying just a few hrs. before Lynn's wake (which he'd insisted on being at, even though he'd be on a stretcher with oxygen), I had to rush from the funeral parlor which we'd only been at for 5 min., viewing Lynn's body for the ceremonies to come, to have my Dad rushed to the hospital due to non-stop seizures his nurse called me to say he'd been having for 20 min. When I left him in the emergency room to rush home and get changed for the wake, I thought he was just snoring because they'd got him under control. I found out two days later, hours before he did die, that he was actually doing then what's called "the dead man's snore (named for a sign of death)." Daddy died of liver cancer on Oct. 22nd, the day after my sister's funeral, at age 68. following is an excerpt from my father's funeral program:
Dallas later moved to Newark, New Jersey where he married his childhood sweetheart Carolyn Simpson Whitley in 1961. Together, the two became a happy family of four with the addition of their daughters the late Lynn Chante Whitley and Deanna Joy Whitley. Dallas was a nurturing and supportive young father who had abundant love for his children. He and his ex-wife Carolyn maintained that together they combined the best of themselves- strength, compassion, creativity, intelligence- when they had their beloved daughters Lynn and Joy.
As a young enterprising entrepreneur, Dallas owned four barber shops before working in other shops across New Jersey. His clients in the shop he owned across the street from his Atlantic City location included notable entertainers such as Marvin Gaye, Sammy Davis Jr., Diana Ross and her group, the Supremes, Joe Tex, and Smokey Robinson. He and Marvin became close friends and Dallas would have traveled on the tour with this famous star had he not been expecting the birth of his youngest daughter, Joy. In the company of such great entertainers, Dallas was also a talented artist who loved to write poetry, sing and play the harmonica. He was a learned man, a great conversationalist, and avid reader who had a special interest in Black History. His photographic memory gave him a keen recall of historical, statistical and geographic facts. He loved mysteries, especially the James Bond series. Dallas will always be known for his comedic wit and ravenous appetite with a penchant for sweets.
Yes; that was my Dad. I wish I had some of his artwork or music to share here which I have such fond memories of, but I haven't seen any of the former since I was young and I haven't been able to find the tape with his harmonica music since before he and Lynn asked to hear it during their last year. I can always find some things until I most need them. If or when I find these, you'll know it via podcast addition! By the way, guess what one of the Christmas gifts I gave myself this year was? A harmonica!
One of my father's closest cousins, who he was partially raised with, was Margie. They developed such a bond that people thought they were siblings. When he passed, Margie called me to come get a couple of hundred dollars to help with his burial. When I called her a couple days later to say I was stopping by to get it and come see her, I discovered later that she hadn't answered because she'd been rushed to the hospital for complications to her own chronic health issues with diabetes. Just as my father was about to be lowered into the ground during his funeral, a cousin's cell phone rang. When she checked to see who'd called her right afterwards, the next thing I knew, most family members went rushing from my father's repasse at the church, to Margie's hospital room. The call had come from the hospital to inform my cousin that Margie had just passed. She was buried right next to my father in our church cemetary; on the other side of my father is my nana, who'd passed just 8 months before them & my sister Lynn.
One of Margie's daughters and I who lives in Maryland, developed a close bond after that. One of Margie's sons, a doctor in Atlanta, announced at her funeral,(the 3rd Saturday in a row that month--after Lynn and Daddy), that he was starting a college scholarship in her name for the children of our hometown. My mother is now the manager of that scholarship fund. Margie's funeral program is in the photo next to those of my father and grandmother above.
Lynn's high school sculpture, college drawings, & other creative juices
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My mother and I found these while looking through Lynn's photos shortly after she passed. Needless to say they were an instant tear jerker. She was so creative & talented in so many ways. . .
My sister graduated from a female-only version of an Ivy League school known as Wheaton College in Massachusetts with a degree in Fine Arts--after 1st majoring in interior design. She immediately fulfilled one dream by moving to beautiful Houston, TX for several years where she lived in a few gorgeously decorated apts. within charming apartment complexes while working as a Macy's buyer in the jewelry dept.
Then, after returning home temporarily for just a few months, she moved to the metro area she'd planned to enjoy since childhood; Atlanta, Georgia. While she lived in the cutest apts. there, whether with her 1st husband or alone, we would always love going house shopping whenever I came for a visit. After a few gigs as store mgr. in some large chains, and a couple of adorable houses bought with her 2nd husband (who she'd been engaged to in Houston before marrying her 1st one), she finally added a few dreams within and outside of her career.
Her 1st business creation on the side was the Atlanta Wedding Expo and she then went on to be the 1st executive producer for the annual nationally-televised gospel music awards known as the Stellar Awards which airs in January! While being store manager at a large supermarket, Kroger Savon, in the Atlanta area, she also joined (or started) a community outreach division through which she planned various fascinating events in the store for the public. This was followed by her dream career--despite much lower pay--as community relations mgr. and event planner at the Fairburn, GA Barnes n Nobles bookstore.
My sister graduated from a female-only version of an Ivy League school known as Wheaton College in Massachusetts with a degree in Fine Arts--after 1st majoring in interior design. She immediately fulfilled one dream by moving to beautiful Houston, TX for several years where she lived in a few gorgeously decorated apts. within charming apartment complexes while working as a Macy's buyer in the jewelry dept.
Then, after returning home temporarily for just a few months, she moved to the metro area she'd planned to enjoy since childhood; Atlanta, Georgia. While she lived in the cutest apts. there, whether with her 1st husband or alone, we would always love going house shopping whenever I came for a visit. After a few gigs as store mgr. in some large chains, and a couple of adorable houses bought with her 2nd husband (who she'd been engaged to in Houston before marrying her 1st one), she finally added a few dreams within and outside of her career.
Her 1st business creation on the side was the Atlanta Wedding Expo and she then went on to be the 1st executive producer for the annual nationally-televised gospel music awards known as the Stellar Awards which airs in January! While being store manager at a large supermarket, Kroger Savon, in the Atlanta area, she also joined (or started) a community outreach division through which she planned various fascinating events in the store for the public. This was followed by her dream career--despite much lower pay--as community relations mgr. and event planner at the Fairburn, GA Barnes n Nobles bookstore.
I used to often try to convince my family that we should start family businesses of our own, especially a bookstore... Lynn, Janet, my mother, and I all loved event planning and reading. We've always had tons of literature and my mother's library must have naturally turned us into bookworms. We would be in 7th heaven just buried in our own reading materials in the living room together or spending hours in a bookstore. My mom would sometimes have to tear me away from them when we went to a mall... Since people's mouths water while waiting for my mother to finish cooking a meal, our customers would have always been able to feed their faces and minds at the same time. My brother could have had people cracking up for days after hearing his natural comedian wit on "comedy nights" and my sister-in-law's clients could always venture next door into our bookstore instead of waiting their turn in that hair salon she always wanted. My nieces and nephews could have honed and polished even more talents and interests of their own while being "assistant managers..." Isn't it nice to dream???
Anyway, I was thrilled to experience three of the countless events Lynn had organized in Barnes n Nobles during a few visits. I joined in one lively discussion with the Imani Book Club, that she'd founded and coordinated. Another time, I did a poetry reading at a Jam which she raved about later to others, claiming I'd given the best performance. She also excitedly talked my ear off one day about a regular children's storyteller that was performing that night--which I just so happened to miss. Lynn did so well that they promoted her to regional trainer for managers in that position of the store within a 5 state area!
As if that weren't enough, another creation was born once Lynn discovered that her state had the highest illiteraracy rate in the nation. While still doing an an outstanding job wearing all those hats at Barnes n Nobles, my superwoman sister taught herself web design, created her own non-profit organization through self-taught methods, designed the website for it, and made herself executive producer! It was entitled the Atlanta Literary Festival and this magnificent week long festival, which donated the funds to literacy groups in GA, grew larger for three consecutive years until her cancer diagnosis was the end of it in 2005. Her friends gave her the nicknames Pocahontas, Pippi Longstockings (from one of our favorite childhood characters), and "the Brain" (after the cartoon Pinky & the Brain) because she always came up with so many exciting things to do which she got them to go along with & get involved in, including this.
I was finally actually reading Lynn's superbly produced promotional magazine for the festival--which she also created--just a few days ago. I always longed to be there to witness the whole event after she told me of all her great plans, but she wouldn't change it from the 3rd week of my return to work after summer vacation--and I knew my supervisors wouldn't take too kindly to that.
As I get the chance, I will keep adding more of my sister's art here. As you can see, I've already added her huge wall hanging drawings from her beautiful 2nd house in Atlanta and part of its decor (though you can only see two of the three sketches here) and a page from her Literary Festival newsmagazine. Theses drawings now hang in our NC home & the 1 seen below is my favorite art piece that she made. After that lo-o-ong trip down memory lane, my biggest point is this:
Lynn was just 43 (my current age) when she passed on. I've often heard that graveyards are full of riches... All that wealth from untapped talent, unfulfilled dreams, and other potential... Let's all pray that the rest of us with this gift of life and creative power don't add to that list.
painting #2 aTi summer 08': Shades of Grey
This painting was made on my 2nd day at aTi summer 08' & is a first in 2 ways. Now that I've taken a workshop on photographing art, you see a better photo of this 1st "attempt" at abstract painting than the original one posted here.This is also the 1st one I made to fill a request. My hairstylist, asked me to paint something for the white room in a new property he'd just purchased & remodeled beautifully for various parties. He also told me I could host an art show in it; giving me my 2nd confirmation that I could actually use this talent for income! (I've had at least 5 other requests since, plus the 1st, from a manager in a nursing home near aTi.)
Since I had no idea of how to make an all white painting to match the all-white-things in this fabulous all-white-room, he allowed me to use these colors. Actually, I chose the title I did & the colors of black, white, & grey as sort of a tribute to he and his White wife since they are an interracial couple with children.
It could also be seen as my acknowledgment of wise words from one of my former students during my 1st year of teaching. I'd had a double-major in college of Africana Studies & Sociology & though my focus in courses within the latter major had been on all types of oppressed groups within the U.S., & I teach in a very diverse school, I felt so enlightened & enthralled by learning of my own heritage, and upset that I had learned so little of it prior to college, that my teaching of history was originally a bit imbalanced by it,especially while I was a substitute teacher & during this first year. So 1 day, this sweet, outspoken Portuguese freshman student named S. Pastor raised her hand to say something to the effect of, "Miss ______, I'm tired of learning about what Whites did to Blacks (in this world history course). The world is not black & white; there are shades of grey!"
S.P. mentioned in her farewell card to me (when she was about to graduate as valedictorian), that she hoped I'd learned as much from her as she had from me. She couldn't have put it any better. Miss Pastor had become a Mrs. when she last reached out to me by paying me a lovely visit in my classroom several years later. She had recently married herself; and though I had assumed it was to an African-American, I learned otherwise many years later.
The circle is a very significant symbol in traditional Afrikan culture (which I learned has no "c" in its languages that is not followed by an "h"; thus, my spelling above of "Africa"). There is no beginning and no end to the 360 degrees in them and one Afrikan proverbs says "Let the circle be unbroken." This is an expression of desired unity; a hope for harmony with others. One of my deepest hopes is that racism be destroyed; not only through relatively superficial means such as bonds of friendship and love that can occur between any human beings, but through a deep re-education and enlightenment about contributions & challenges of all racial and ethnic groups, as well as a thorough knowledge of the good, bad, & ugly that exists in all living things and cultural groups, thus making us one. The circles in this painting symbolize that enlightenment which I dream of for the world and the rectangular strips signify the pathways which can lead us there.
Omar requested a twin of this painting when I finally showed it to him a few months ago. Once I finish them, he will then hang them side by side in his all white room-- which is near his all black room--and everyone who views it will see shades of grey...
One beloved artistic student
The following former student from the c/o 2000, who I wrote the letter of recommendation for grad school for below, was the third person who offered to buy some of my art work! She visited me in my class one day last year and saw my first 3 paintings. After receiving the following letter this Fall, she also asked me to paint something surprising and cheerful for the new apt. she planned to move into soon after. That's also her in the middle of the trio of photos from classes I had many years ago.
Remember, the footer (at the end) is my attempt at going incognito here since this website is public. Read on!
October 1, 2008
Rutgers, The State University of NJ
Office of Graduate & Professional Admissions
(other contents of addresses deleted for this blog publication)
To whom it may concern:
There are some students that a teacher never forgets. K. Berryman, one such student indeed, receives my recommendation for your program without the slightest hesitation. She is an absolutely outstanding human being who is just as wonderful in personality as in the role of a top student within my world history class during 1996-97’. This student is a tremendously gifted writer and has excellent higher level thinking skills.
Her creativity and enthusiasm for learning was demonstrated numerous ways both in and out of our class. We actually met at William Paterson University where she was an outstanding student during the summer prior to her freshman year at the highly acclaimed W.E.B. DuBois Leadership Institute where I was an adjunct professor and residence coordinator for a month. Later at ____ High, while I was advisor for our school newspaper staff, she contributed articles and even started her own “Dear Leena” column, giving wise advice to her peers. In addition to this, she was a talented poet and song writer. K. took her education very seriously, always added liveliness to our class discussions, and went above and beyond expectations with her work.
This lovely young lady still maintains a vibrant, bubbly demeanor and that awesome originality. We run into each other in the neighborhood and otherwise communicate now and then due to her current role with the education-centered Abbott Leadership Institute and our fond memories. I never cease to be impressed with her spirit and dedication to her work. Last year, I had the distinct honor and pleasure of being invited to her 25th birthday party and was quite impressed with her “Berryman Awards” theme for it which was incorporated throughout the affair. After putting on a star performance with her acting, dancing, and lip syncing skills in the spotlight, she proceeded to award various guests who gave impromptu performances of their own. (I was even nominated for something!)
Your graduate program will be forever enhanced by Ms. Berryman’s presence. Some of you will find like I, that although many fuzzy names and faces have come and gone over the years, she is one who will forever leave a cherished imprint in the memory of those she comes in contact with.
Sincerely,
Ms. D J
_____ High School teacher
Remember, the footer (at the end) is my attempt at going incognito here since this website is public. Read on!
October 1, 2008
Rutgers, The State University of NJ
Office of Graduate & Professional Admissions
(other contents of addresses deleted for this blog publication)
To whom it may concern:
There are some students that a teacher never forgets. K. Berryman, one such student indeed, receives my recommendation for your program without the slightest hesitation. She is an absolutely outstanding human being who is just as wonderful in personality as in the role of a top student within my world history class during 1996-97’. This student is a tremendously gifted writer and has excellent higher level thinking skills.
Her creativity and enthusiasm for learning was demonstrated numerous ways both in and out of our class. We actually met at William Paterson University where she was an outstanding student during the summer prior to her freshman year at the highly acclaimed W.E.B. DuBois Leadership Institute where I was an adjunct professor and residence coordinator for a month. Later at ____ High, while I was advisor for our school newspaper staff, she contributed articles and even started her own “Dear Leena” column, giving wise advice to her peers. In addition to this, she was a talented poet and song writer. K. took her education very seriously, always added liveliness to our class discussions, and went above and beyond expectations with her work.
This lovely young lady still maintains a vibrant, bubbly demeanor and that awesome originality. We run into each other in the neighborhood and otherwise communicate now and then due to her current role with the education-centered Abbott Leadership Institute and our fond memories. I never cease to be impressed with her spirit and dedication to her work. Last year, I had the distinct honor and pleasure of being invited to her 25th birthday party and was quite impressed with her “Berryman Awards” theme for it which was incorporated throughout the affair. After putting on a star performance with her acting, dancing, and lip syncing skills in the spotlight, she proceeded to award various guests who gave impromptu performances of their own. (I was even nominated for something!)
Your graduate program will be forever enhanced by Ms. Berryman’s presence. Some of you will find like I, that although many fuzzy names and faces have come and gone over the years, she is one who will forever leave a cherished imprint in the memory of those she comes in contact with.
Sincerely,
Ms. D J
_____ High School teacher
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