werkin on that ster trak

“Last I heard he was arrested for buying large amounts of cocaine.  My mom let me know.  She called me one day and said: ‘I don’t want you to find out by Googling your name.’  It wasn’t a huge surprise, actually.  It explained a lot of his behavior.  He promised to pay for our school, then didn’t.  He never wanted to pay child support.  He started calling less and less.  I haven’t heard from him in years.  But I have a really, really great stepdad.  I just call him Andrew.  My first memory of him was when I was ten years old.  I just thought he was a nice older guy at the New Year’s Eve party.  But my mom got hammered, and the whole ride home, she kept saying: ‘Isn’t he so great?  Isn’t he so cute?’  Two years later he moved in with us.  He never tried to discipline me.  He’d leave that to my mom.  He always had the attitude of: ‘I’m not your father.’  But he was another adult in the house that I could rely on.  And I’d never had that before.  He’d cook meals for us.  And he’d really work hard on them.  And he’d drive me places.  I think 95% of my needs at the time were cooking and driving.  Even today, I could call him if I need a ride anywhere.  If he’s not able to do it himself, he’ll pay for a cab.  Or he’ll figure out another solution.  It’s the kind of attention that makes you feel like you’re deserving of someone else’s time.  He’s far from perfect.  He works too much.  He snores.  He doesn’t do his laundry.  But when I think of the qualities of a good man, or dad, or just person, Andrew’s got them.”

“I want to be a musical theater actor.  I have six auditions tomorrow.  Five the next day.  Everyone says this, but you really do hear ‘no’ everyday.  It’s not even a ‘no,’ actually.  It’s just silence.  They never tell you that you didn’t get a part.  You just hear nothing at all.  There’s a website called Audition Update where people post if they’ve gotten a job offer or callback.  It’s a way to let everyone else know that they haven’t been chosen.  I used to be on the site all the time.  I kept refreshing the page for each of my auditions, waiting for someone to post about a callback.  Then I’d check my email to see if I’d gotten one.  All I ever wanted was to finally be the person who was able to post.  It was pretty toxic.  It made me feel inept.  I could actually see the people who were getting all the jobs I wanted, and rejection became this tangible thing.  I’ve stopped going on the site.  I’m trying to focus more on the process and less on the outcome.  I’m taking all the energy that I put into my phone, and putting it into my journal instead.  I write things that I love about myself.  I write everything I can remember about each audition: who was in the room, what was said, things I did well, things I could have done differently.  But once it’s on the paper, I let go of it.  It helps me stay in the moment.  And it helps remind me that the whole reason I’m acting is because I love it.“

Today in microfashion…

“I was working as a prep cook at a BBQ joint in Harlem.  I got off work early one day, and I discovered my wife with another man.  That was the beginning of all this.  I’d been with her for twenty-one years.  I was devastated.  I got right back on the bus and headed back to the city.  I went straight to the bars on 42nd Street. I got wasted every day.  I lost my wallet, my phone, my contacts.  I didn’t want to do nothing.  I just said ‘F it.’  I’ve been out on the streets for eight months.  When it’s time to rest, I find a place to sleep.  But I spend most of my time here on this block.  These are the best people on this block.  I’ve never experienced so many good people in my life.  Some of them help me out every single day.  They say: ‘What are you doing out here?  We’ve never met anyone like you.’  Lily and her daughter brought the whole family to meet me on Thanksgiving.  I felt like a celebrity.  Then there’s Cheryl with the glasses who just walked by a couple minutes ago.  Love her.  John and his wife, love them too.  David and Michael are the best.  And what’s up to my man Sean from the beauty parlor.  Shout out to T and Marianne.  So many good friends on this block.  But they aren’t going to see me much longer because I found a program that’s going to give me a place to stay, and a job cleaning the streets.  I’m done with this life.  I don’t belong here.  And I know my grandkids miss Grandpa.  So if you don’t see me here soon, you can say: ‘He’s done it!  He’s gone!’  But I’m going to shock everybody.  Cause I’m coming back with Christmas cards.”

“My son was crazy about a woman.  He spent a bunch of money on her.  He even asked her to marry him.  But she didn’t want him and it drove him mad.  He stopped going to work.  His clothes became ripped and his beard grew long.  He looked like someone you’d see in the street.  His personality changed too.  He grew aggressive.  He thought everyone was trying to fight him.  It broke my heart.  It felt like my son was slipping away.  He was only thirty and had given up on the world.  Everyone told me he was cursed.  I tried everything.  I prayed to God.  I went to mosques.  I went to spiritual advisors.  I gave money to psychics, but nothing worked.  Then one day I was sitting in this very spot, and a doctor stopped to visit.  He asked me what was wrong.  I told him everything, and he asked to see my son.  I’ll never forget that day.  That man is the reason for everything good in my life.  He brought my son back to me.  My son is taking medicine now.  He’s working.  He’s shaved.  He’s laughing again.  I still believe that God is the one who healed him.  But thank God for good doctors.” (Cairo, Egypt)

“I love walking around the city. I catch the Metro North train at 11:40 every morning. I go to the same gym that I’ve been going to for forty years. Then I just start walking. If you take big strides it really stretches you out. And there are millions of other people walking around. You never feel alone. People smile at you. On weekends I’ll bring my granddaughters with me and we’ll tour different neighborhoods. We’ve seen ten or twelve so far. Sometimes I get to borrow them for the whole afternoon. But they’re at sleep away camp right now so I’m missing them a lot. And that’s about it. I do a little shopping at the thrift store. I stop and read the paper. I eat at outdoor restaurants. It’s simple but I found what makes me happy and I’m doing it. And when I’m heading home at night, sometimes I think: ‘I just had the best day of my life.’”

“So one day I’m sitting here talking to this lady, and I’m eating a sandwich. And the lady says to me: ‘There’s a sparrow sitting on your sandwich.’ And I think, ‘Wow. That’s pretty thrilling.’ So I began to feed it. And that sparrow started spreading the word, and I developed a bit of a reputation in the sparrow community. And suddenly I become the sparrow guy. There’s like sixty of them waiting for me every morning. All these benches are covered in shit.”

“My wife and I were in our late thirties when we met. Kids just weren’t in the cards for us. I always thought I would have been a good dad, but time just went by and it never happened. So we raised a little family of dachshunds instead. We got Ozzie and Eva shortly after getting together. They both lived for thirteen years. Having two extra lives in the house was a wonderful thing. They needed to be cared for. They gave and received love. I imagine that it’s a little like having a kid. When Oscar passed away, I was so distraught that I passed out on the floor of the vet. Eva lived for another year, and after she died, we decided to wait before adopting again. We lasted about a year. Pepper came from a high kill shelter in Los Angeles. She was terrified for the first few weeks and wouldn’t come near us. But she trusts us now. She is definitely a Daddy’s girl.”

“I feel like I had so many more stories before I came to film school. I wrote so much when I was young. I’d fill up entire journals. I was a quiet kid, so writing was my way of imagining conversations that I’d never have in real life. But it doesn’t feel like I’m expressing myself anymore. It’s become less about whether I like it, and more about whether my professors and classmates like it. I’m always focused on the rhythm, or the structure, or the notes I received in class, or all these rules from a long time ago that everybody uses because they work. And it just feels like I’m swapping out decorations in a house that’s already been built. But I’m afraid to be more inventive, because if your work doesn’t fit the rules, then people will doubt your talent. So film school has made me much better at making other people happy. But it’s made me less happy. And that’s not a direction that I can see myself continuing for very long.”

“Obama had been president for six days. The old timers in the twelve-step program tell you to associate the memory with something, so that’s how I remember it. The weather was just like this, even though it was November. It was sixtyish degrees. I was sitting on a stoop, having my morning beer and cigarette, and feeling disgusted with myself. I was wheezing so bad that it felt like I’d swallowed a whistle. And I had this moment of clarity. I knew I was done. So I took a couple more swigs, threw the pack of Newports into traffic, and walked over to Project Renewal on 3rd Street. I’ll be ten years sober if I can make it until November 10th. That was my day. And it still is my day. Even if I fail, I’ll remember that on that day I succeeded. And if I did it then, I can do it again.”

“I’m from a small country in Africa called Benin. I won the visa lottery to come here. I didn’t even know I was eligible. My brother entered my name and didn’t even tell me. I was studying to be a psychiatrist at the time. I assumed that I’d be able to continue with medical school. But when I arrived here, I found out that none of my credits would transfer. I had a choice: either go home and become a doctor, or start from the bottom. I didn’t speak any English. I didn’t have any money. But I knew if I could somehow make it here, my degree would be much more valuable. So I made the choice to stay. I began practicing English with my young nieces. The first thing I learned was: ‘I’m going to kick you.’ I got a job with a catering company and learned how to say ‘I’m here to deliver your food.’ I studied as many YouTube videos as I could during my free time. It’s been three years now. I’m almost finished with my bachelor’s degree. Just two classes left. At nights I work as a behavioral specialist in a mental health facility. I’m going to take the MCAT in September. My friends back home have all become doctors already, but I try not to think about them. I don’t want to lose my focus. I haven’t made it yet, but I’m making it.”

“I didn’t get accepted into any of the universities that I wanted, and I ended up going to a lesser quality school. I hated being there. On the first day, I thought about buying a plane ticket and going home. I felt like I had nothing in common with the people around me. I felt like they belonged and I didn’t. My plan was just to survive– get through six lectures a day, keep to myself, and get back to my dorm room as soon as possible. I didn’t even talk to my own roommate. I’m ashamed of it now. I was so rude and self-centered, and it ended up making me lonely and miserable. I felt depressed. I was barely sleeping. Then one night I overheard my roommate talking on the phone with her mother. And I could tell she was having family problems. After she hung up, we stayed up all night talking. I told her that I was having a hard time too. She became my best friend after that night. We’d have dinner together. Whenever I left the room, she’d ask me where I was going. It felt so good to have someone worry about me. It’s been an important six months for me. I’ve realized how much I need other people. By not valuing the people around me, I was only hurting myself.” (Mumbai, India)

“I want to be a comedian. A lot of people in my class think I’m funny. Sometimes it can be hard to think of a good joke that isn’t about Trump. But even if you don’t get any laughs, you can usually just keep silent for a few minutes and try again. Sometimes I accidentally make jokes that only I get. Like the other day I tried to tell a joke about that lady who handed out cashews instead of candy for Halloween. But only my friend Aiden knew about the Cashew Lady so nobody laughed. But then later my teacher asked where I got my sources for my constitutional rights paper. And I told her I got them from ‘a sorcerer.’ Even she laughed at that one.”

“I was the best student in my high school. I put so much pressure on myself. I never failed a class. But I got sick during 10th grade and I started to fall behind. That’s when the panic attacks began. One day the teacher handed me my grade report, and I couldn’t breathe. My heart was beating very fast. I felt disconnected. I saw people trying to talk to me but I couldn’t hear them. Eventually I passed out and woke up in the infirmary. The attacks were almost daily after that. Last year I started college. And I can’t be the best student here no matter how hard I try. Everyone is so talented. My panic attacks got so bad that I had to cancel my first semester. But now I’m working on acknowledging my anxiety. I used to try to hide it. I would log off social media. I wouldn’t answer calls. I thought that if nobody knew, it didn’t exist. But the more I talk about my problem, the more I realize that other people experience similar things. So I’m trying to express it more. I had a great teacher who told me: ‘Instead of letting anxiety keep you from doing your art, let it be the thing that motivates your art.’” (Bogotá, Colombia)

“For Heloisa, every elderly person feels like a grandparent. And she loves her grandparents. So I asked her if she wanted to have her sixth birthday party at a home for the elderly. She loved the idea. So I contacted a local home and planned everything with the coordinator. We sent invitations to the family members of all the residents. I’m a photographer, so I went a few days early and took nice portraits of all the residents. On the day of the party, I printed out the photographs and brought them as gifts for their family members. We did games and activities. There was so much joy. Everyone had such big smiles. The residents were crying. Their families were crying. I was crying. I think Heloisa will remember the experience forever. Afterward, her school friends came home with us and we had an old-fashioned pajama party.” (São Paulo, Brazil)

“Last year I started figure modeling for art classes. I’m plus-sized, so I was a little worried about being nude. I was nervous about everyone seeing my stomach, and my thighs, and all my fat. But apparently my curves are fun to draw. In the classroom, all the features I saw as negative were viewed as assets. One student told me that it’s no fun to draw straight lines. It’s been liberating for me. I’ve always been insecure about my belly. But now my belly has been part of so many beautiful pieces of art.”

“I first ran for Congress in 1999, and I got beat. I just got whooped. I had been in the state legislature for a long time, I was in the minority party, I wasn’t getting a lot done, and I was away from my family and putting a lot of strain on Michelle. Then for me to run and lose that bad, I was thinking maybe this isn’t what I was cut out to do. I was forty years old, and I’d invested a lot of time and effort into something that didn’t seem to be working. But the thing that got me through that moment, and any other time that I’ve felt stuck, is to remind myself that it’s about the work. Because if you’re worrying about yourself—if you’re thinking: ‘Am I succeeding? Am I in the right position? Am I being appreciated?’ – then you’re going to end up feeling frustrated and stuck. But if you can keep it about the work, you’ll always have a path. There’s always something to be done.”