I was born from a hardworking dad and a dedicated mother. I was born the fifth of seven siblings in 1955. Times were not easy for my dad and mom. Though very hard working, dad did not make a lot of money as an auto mechanic and mom was too busy raising eight kids to be able to help support the family monetarily. For the first eight years of my life, mom and dad did the best they could but raised us in a barn. There was no indoor water; we went outdoors to get our water from a hand pump in the well. The outhouse was about two hundred feet from the barn and was a long cold trek in the winter, especially in the middle of the night. 

On Saturday nights, mom would heat up pots of water on the wood burning cook stove and pour them into a tub. The eldest sister would go first, followed in age by the rest of us to take a bath. Being fifth in line, the water was already cold and dirty, I felt sorry for my three younger sisters.

The wood burning cook stove also served as our heater in the winter. Dad would stoke the stove before bed and it would burn for a few hours until we were asleep. We would wake up with about a quarter inch of ice on the inside of the barn walls.

Every morning before school, we would have to tend to our couple of pigs and the one cow and feed the dozens of chickens. It was necessary because along with a vegetable garden this was almost all of the food we had. The government would give us powdered milk and chunks of cheese and Spam and bags of beans but going to the store for groceries was not possible.

In the spring, mom and the girls would butcher the chickens and freeze the meat for the year. In the fall dad and the boys would butcher the pigs and the cow for our winter food.

Life in my early years was rough and when I was thirteen years old, I went to work full time to help with the family finances. These were the best years of my life and I would not change a thing about them!

 

I am from playing outside until it was dark.  I am from riding bikes “around the block” and the “horseshoe”.  I am from “hide and go seek”.  

I am from having the encyclopedia in my home that opened the world to me.  

I am from picking black berries right off the vine.  I am from cobbler being my favorite.  

I am from Kenneth and Patricia (Kenneth tried and Patricia could not be bothered).  

I am from assimilation and self-editing.  I am from the privilege of being lighter.    

I am from food as comfort and control.

I am from Christmas, Thanksgiving, and birthdays being just another day.  

I am from dreaming of NYC and finally getting there.  

I am from 30 being old and blessed to make it over 50.  

I am from beautiful men dropping like flies in the 80s and 90s.  I am from attending funerals of those who did not survive the plague.  

I am from “I’m Black and I’m Proud” to “Black Lives Matter”.

I am from making my ancestors proud and I am aware of it and strive to do it daily.  

I am from laughter, from the sand and the ocean, from the quiet nights filled with stars to the still mornings with the sounds of birds awakening. I am from nights on the front porch and sunny afternoons spent laying under the trees. I am from books and from reflection and from introspection. I am from chocolate chip cookies warm from the oven and snack after school.  I am from the city and the country, from the mountains and the sea, from beauty found in unlikely places.

I am from daily gratitude, I am from love, I am from deep breathing and meditation. I am from motion and movement and energy. I am from dancing it all out. I am from continually trying to discover my purpose and living up to it. I am from being a tiny bit better than I was yesterday. 

I am from a large, noisy family, number five of seven. Born to parents with modest ambitions, school was a place for kids to go during the day and education was not appreciated, facilitated, or encouraged. My parents’ aim was to move us out of their house as soon as we graduated high school, and earlier if possible. Of the seven, only four of us finished high school and none went to college upon graduation. The other three eventually got GEDs and all of us pursued some degree of education or vocational training on our own, as adults.

I am from a 40- year marriage, family dinners, hauling kids to school, lessons, practice, youth group, and many unforgettable family vacations. I am from standing in the ice rink at 5am. I am from loving, nurturing, coaching, dreaming, learning, growing, seeking to know and understand, and doing my best to hit the curve balls life has thrown at me. 

While growing up, I longed to go to college but there was no opportunity, so when I had my own large, noisy family, my dreams for them were bigger than my reality had been. Now one of those noisy kids has a Master’s degree, one has a PhD, and two are PhD candidates nearing the end of their educational journeys. I could not be prouder, because in addition to having accomplished much more than I even hoped for them, they are really amazing people who are making a difference in the world. 

 Now my house is quiet, and sometimes I really miss the noise.

I am from a fragmented family and close family at the same time. Born into a situation where there was strong resentment between parents and extended family, they each cared for me in their own unique way. With a working mother in a single-parent household, I often spent time with my grandparents. These grandparents were the central hub of the family, where we would gather as a whole on holidays and special occasions.

I am from poverty and low educational standards (from others), both of which I fought and fight to ensure future generations do not feel. Picking yourself up by the bootstraps sometimes requires assistance, though pride can get in the way. When opening doors that you didn’t know existed, it’s important to remember to leave the light on so that others can see the path as well. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, as the words from people in the past cause doubt and a sense of not belonging to creep in at times. Then you recall what it took to get here, and motivation and belief flood back in.

I am from a wonderful family, with an amazing wife and two incredible children. They are the reason I continue to push myself, to be worthy of their affection. My wife inspires me and makes me a better person. My children fill me with joy and continually make me proud of the young adults they have become. We don’t always get along, but love is the foundation of this house. We spend time playing games, enjoying nature, and leading active and engaged lives. Through sports, activities, and events, the Google calendar is never dull.

I am from a desk that has many memories from the past. A ceramic frog that I gave to my father as a gift from my wedding day sits on the top shelf, looking over me as I know he has since passing the week after giving it to him. Wrigley Field rests next to a small wicker chair that came from my grandmother, taking me back to watching Cubs games with my grandfather (Yeah, not very Pittsburgh of me…). A Terrible Towel lies within reach, and a couple of footballs sit at my right hand in order to help me think when I need them. Staring at me from my monitor is the blue-beaded gecko my wife made for me on my way to my first teaching interview. My black lab lies at my feet, contently snoring, while the cat smacks my arm for attention.

I am from a place rich in memories. These memories define my past, build my character, and allow me to shape the future. My mission is to help others to shape theirs as well.

I am from a small town in the Mississippi Delta whose soil was as rich and plentiful as the legacies that toiled it.  It is a place where late great civil rights leaders like Martin Luther King Jr, John Lewis, and Stokely Carmichael among others chose to walk the streets to provide hope, love, and a sense of pride to those who needed it most in a nation that often devalued their contributions. The same place where my mother often slipped away to record the meetings of the NAACP and SNCC. Yes..slipped. My grandfather didn’t want any of his girls to be involved in situations that could potentially become violent. 

I am from Thomas Street. A place where grandparents, and great grand parents were among the first black families to own land to cultivate a sense of pride, integrity, and fortitude for generations to come. They built their homes to withstand the test of time.  They built the home that my parents would be married in and that years later my husband I all would make our vows in. 

I am from a place where love of family and humankind permeated neighborhoods creating the most nurturing environment for children and young adults to realize and develop their gifts and talents. There were neighborhood backyard gatherings. Food was prepared with loving hands and grateful hearts. Later, those same hands would prepare food for school fundraisers for my siblings and me.  It was truly food for the soul.  

I am from a mother, grandmothers, great grandmother…and I could go on, who provided me so much wisdom about their world leaving me just enough curiosity to thirst to learn more and prepare for an uncertain future.   I can still hear my grandmother saying,” What you gonna do if the sun don’t rise?” which translates to be prepared. She also would often say, “Don’t give up but give out”.  Always give your all.  

I am from a home that has brought me peace. It is surrounded by nature and inside there are pictures that provide constant memories of loved ones and family authors. 

I am from a family with a supportive husband who has helped me navigate the unsteady waters of life and parenthood for 37 years.  We have been blessed to be gifted two beautiful human beings and have influenced their adult journeys.  

I am from legacy, leading, learning, and loving!

I am from mountains, cool lakes and the oldest summer resort in America, where my family has been since before the American revolution.

I am from warm tropical breezes, spicy salsa music and Taino heritage.

I am from parents from two different worlds, who often don’t agree on anything except their children, but are going strong 50 years now.

I am from traveling and exploring and adventuring as many places as possible.

I am from “home” being wherever the people that I love are.

I am from siblings and squabbles and strong bonds that span the distance.

I am from Anne and Forrest and Ramonita and Pedro and Nora and Bob, and all who have come before.

I’m from a home with many different depictions of the Cross because if you can grow with parents from two different denominations in the south and manage equity and diversity of faith worship and still be a believer, then you have truly learned to love. 

I'm from a home filled with the sounds of laughter, Old Skool R&B and Gospel, and the televisions blaring with sit coms, documentaries, and sports events.

I'm from a  neighborhood where I live peacefully in a community that is rich in cultural diversity and where most of the residents are even older and quieter than I am. 

I'm from families with ties that are blood, extended, fraternal, church, professional, within social circles, and communities interwoven to help me truly love. ie. Mom, Darrel, Denise, Miles, Mya, Justin, Stephanie, Jacob and Jackson…

I'm from “Take one day at a time,” “CYA,” and “Not my monkey, not my circus”.

I'm from a home with the smells of Fried chicken, Barbeque ribs, Collards and corn bread, Fried fish on Fridays, and a glazed pound cake that will make you smack yo’ mama!

I'm from giving thanks prayerfully in all things and from having an appreciation of mutual kindness and respect.

I'm from Durham, Fayetteville, Raleigh, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and North Carolina Central University.

I'm from a place where the King’s English, Ebonics and vulgarity are spoken masterfully as required by the rules of survival and codeswitching.

Horses, cows, chickens, rabbits, dogs and cats abound.

Summer days frolicking under the weeping willow in the huge puddle from a recent storm.

Football games in the Fall, Basketball through the winter, 4-H projects take the focus of the spring and summer.

I am from long road trips for our vacations, midwest values, and meat and potato meals

I am a child with 2 siblings, add 5 siblings, but so much time like an only child. 

Blending the families doesn't come without challenges, I just want everyone to be happy

Two complete Thanksgivings in one day, Grandma's and Grandpa's for Christmas Eve

 

I am from where moving away to college allows me to finally feel free to learn who I am.

Strong relationships and friendships offer me those glimpses into who I want to be, what I want to believe.

But there is still so much small town thinking, close minds. 

Then comes the real freedom of moving across country. 

 
I am now from a big city, open minds, and so many perspectives you just can't count.

I drink in people's stories, their cultures, their sagas to allow my eyes to open.

 

I am from happy times and oh so many sad times. 

The happy times cover the hurt from the sad, and help us to push on. 

Family is everything, but truth not so much. 

You don't talk about the hurt, you just push on with your covering smile. 

 

No one can know about those dark secrets - I mean - what would people say?

I don't care what they would say, I tell them, so I can process.

No one really cares about those secrets anyway!

But, I know, (or I hope) that those dark secrets were kept with the intention to protect, and with deep love to keep hurt and anger away. 

 

When the truth comes to light, the memories are shattered. 

Time allows for those shards of memories to be collected and you start to reassemble them with the new knowledge guiding the way.

Not all of the family appreciates having to collect those fragments and pieces and put them back together, so I watch as their past remains shattered. 

on clotheslines strung across the backyard,

from fried chicken, potato salad and family chatter.

 

I am from small town, mid-America, 

and rural farms with golden wheat gracing the horizon.

 

I am from the large oak tree that reigned in our front yard,

gnarled branches reaching upward to embrace the sky

and outward to welcome all who entered its kingdom. 

 

I am from Catholic mass every Sunday.

from “sit up straight” and “listen to Father Baker,”

from raucous German weddings,

from holidays shared with aunts, uncles, cousins

at grandma’s old, white-washed house –

too small for all of us and yet we fit.

 

I am from Dodge City, Boothill and, yes, can-can dancers,

from weekend nights “dragging Earp” and drag races in the country

from getting grounded because I was there. 

How many novenas must I say?

 

I am from grandma’s cinnamon rolls,

from dresses sown by her arthritic hands,

Quilts, she so patiently taught me to make –

I cherish to this day.

 

I am from family – the sun and moon for my earth.

A true Jersey Girl

A state that has beautiful seashore resorts, mountains, lakes, farmlands, and suburban communities

A small state that packs a big punch

Diverse.

 

I am from a family of European decent

Filled with many traditions

A family that honors family and education and instills that importance on each passing generation

An extended family that has thinned through the years.

 

I am a lover of the sea and the beach

Marveling in the vast beauty of morning sunrises over the ocean and colorful sunsets over the bay

The smell of salty air that lets me know I am home

Sand forever in my toes and the sounds of the ocean in my heart. 

 

I am Grandma Lola's love.

I am hard-working parent who never gave up.

I am magical moments, from wedding to birth.

I am family traditions like Christmas in Church.
 
I AM BEBE...

I am a foolish foodie, romantic for movies,

Shopping spree crazy, for Louie and Gucci.

I am stories told and songs yet to be sung.

I am Mrs. Suarez, Gabriela’s Mom.

I AM BEBE...

I am, at last, my greatest wishes.

I am, thank you mom-dad, 

And thank you sisters. 

I am memories set adrift,
yet captured in pictures. 
Thank you Besties, Michelle and Kissa. 

I AM BEBE.

I am from fashion, where an accessory is a must😊!

I am from sports, where you push yourself to the end.

I am from creative expression, when I don’t have words.

I am from hardwork, where things are earned not given.

I am from education, what taught me and I pass on.

I am from music, that soothes my soul and cheers me on.

I am from water, my happy place and respite. 

I am from laughter, despite the pain.

I am from love, despite expectations or standards.

I am from traditions, that give me warmth and a reminder of ancestors past and present.

I am from barriers, that cause me to stumble but force me to be better.

I am from colleagues, who influence my life on a daily basis.

I am from friends, those amazing secret keepers.

I am from family, my closest friends, supporters and confidents.

I am from children, who shape me daily and make me better.

I am from Reid, who encourages, holds me accountable and gives me stability.

I am from advocacy, fighting for a non-verbal child.

I am from pain, the deep soul ripping kind.

I am from Christ, who died for my sins.

 I am from a functional by definition dysfunctional family that has always valued transparency.

For me, I was always taught that it is important to show up as you are and voice your concerns to the tee!

However, I was not made aware that everyone would not be able to handle “being told”

“Being told” is not a disrespectful or negative narrative but it is a straight-NO Chaser dialogue with no folds!
 
Because of this I have always tried to find ways to lighten the communication blow 

Still maintaining the honesty that is so important for others (including myself ) to know!

Nevertheless I have had my fair share of offense that I was blamed for, and I admit the offense in some cases was mine 

But some was just because people expected others to just always be so kind (aka untruthful).

Now you may think that this communication riddle revealed very little

However, couple this style of communication with a brown girl from the south that has always stuck out in a sea of WHITE sand…I simply became the Black Girl with the TOO MUCH MOUTH!

Growing up in Cleveland meant frigid winters and hot summers on the lake, neither of which I’d change. Summers meant watching baseball and family cookouts. Winter meant football parties and chili. Both meant our house would be filled with the 8 of us…plus my dad’s 9 siblings…plus their kids. It wasn’t quiet. 

I go back to where I’m from as much as I can, and I’ll forever consider it home. But I feel lucky to say that I now two homes – Cleveland and San Diego. I have people I love in both places, and can thank both homes for memories that have shaped who I am. I’m from a life of good people, big hearts and lots of laughter, and I say that from a place of true gratitude. 

 

I come from Seward Park on the south edge of Seattle where the Douglas Firs have been growing since Jefferson was president, the Herons fish all day, and the lake roils in the rain and brings quiet down around all things. 
Where we squeeze into a tiny kitchen in an old house where I've lived for 30 years and work on dinner together.

In the winter, and sometimes in the summer, we leave the lower forty-eight and go north to where I'm from and ride bikes past 10 pm, or slide down driveways during spring break-up, and wait while my dad loads the slide carousel with pictures of canoe camping, and birthday parties, and impossibly gigantic sockeye salmon being held up by two little boys.

I am a child of broken origins – not because my parents are divorced. (I know I am fortunate that they are still together after 45+ years and I am grateful that they have helped me build the foundation for a healthy marriage). But I am of broken origins because my identity feels like it is. Never fluent or knowledgeable enough to be fully Vietnamese, but too strange and foreign to be fully American.

As an adult, I now know those struggles were eclipsed by everything my parents did to anchor me to our heritage. Homecooked meals of pho, banh xeo, cha gio, and so much more. The sounds of pots, pans, and folding chairs that evoke the thought of large family gatherings. Life lessons passed on to me over dinner, sometimes encrypted in a language that is too complex for my vernacular understanding – typically followed by my parents’ efforts to bridge that gap between the world they know and the one I am navigating. 

And I try – not just to listen but to take these lessons and bury them deep in my soul so that I can never forget the experiences that made them and by extension, me. 

This person, the one plucked from Vietnam and transported to a new world, would eventually understand that fate brought me here. And the same fate that helped me find a new belonging with my life-long friends also brought me to my better half. The person I share my home and my life with – my husband, Oliver. This love that we joke had to cross miles and continents just to meet at a Starbucks in San Diego.

Our neighborhood has become our home and newfound place of comfort. A home that is often filled with the sound of two cats running amok, music playing while we clean, and lots of laughter over anything and everything. 

Sometimes, I still struggle with understanding who I am. But when I think back on my past and the memories and experiences that made me – I realize that I would not trade a single moment.

 

I am from many faith traditions.  Born and raised Baptist, A.M.E., and C.M.E. then finding my path and voice in ELCA and Episcopal beliefs and walks.  

 

I am from the Curtis Park Projects, with cement stairs, linoleum floors, concrete sidewalks, and shared metal clothes lines. Community parties, front stoop gatherings with laughter and music late into the night.

 

I am from “Don’t let you mouth write a check your 🤬 can’t cash” and “Don’t let me have to tell you again.”  

 

I am from haircuts on the new moon, never cut a baby boy’s hair before they can walk and braids, braids, braids on Saturday morning. 

 

I am from summers of back door entrances, no counter service take away only, movie theaters where “colored must sit in balcony only” and be back on this side of the tracks before sundown.

 

I am from Classical, Jazz, Rhythm & Blues, Soul Train lines, Motown records, and only Gospel music played on the radio or record player on Sundays.

 

I am from greens, pig feet, chitterlings, black eyed peas with ham hocks and okra, holiday fruit salad, sweet potato pie, banana pudding and home-made hand churned ice cream.

 

I am from the Trail of Tears driven out and dispossessed, the Middle Passage stolen and sold. Gatherings around elders to hear the stories of struggle, survival, hope, faith, God, and grace. 

 

I am from those who have through it all thrived. 

I am from the wildest dreams of my ancestors, those spoken and unspoken. 

 
Because of them, I am.