A lost home; a lost opportunity

My mother’s childhood home was torn down to put in a home improvement chain. A house that was built by her grandfather. One that was filled with love, laughter and memories. A place that died when her father did. I don’t presume to know the thoughts or opinions of those who chose to level the building but I can assume that my great-grandfather’s home was a hurdle to someone else’s economic and business needs.



I recently found a box of family photographs, some of which belonged to my maternal grandmother. In showing them to my mom for identification of people I didn’t know she would pause at each picture that displayed the house she grew up in. “I loved that fireplace,” she must’ve said at least a dozen times. “Oh, look at that ceiling. Did you find one with a shot of the cherubs?” She talked about the French doors, the family gatherings, the love she had for that place. And what once made me angry instantly made me sad.


There’s a reason that shelter is an essential part of our survival. To have a place that protects us from extreme elements, gives us a place to rest and privacy. But, in my opinion, it also gives us comfort and community. Pride in your achievements and motivation for reaching a goal. To know that a place that once was loved, valued and honored was destroyed so easily literally tears at my spirit. I hear the cries of pain, the wails of the spirits that once lived and loved there. The sadness of my family members who loved it so. Who gave so much attention to a building that cared for them.


I understand and accept that progress is inevitable. I don’t dispute that or wish us to cease growing, learning and improving. But…at what cost? And I don’t mean that in a financial aspect. What price are we paying at the expense of financial gain? It’s cyclical really. Our community grows so we have more individuals looking for employment. More people in needs of services that businesses provide. So it’s a given that businesses need to expand to be able to keep up with demand. Yet, where does it end?


I am so thankful that I found those pictures so that one day when I sell my book and save up money I can buy my mom a house and reconstruct the fireplace and cherubed ceilings for her. Not to regress but to give her back something that was stolen from her. Something that she loved that was violated, and destroyed while she was powerless to stop it from happening.


A house is more than the wood, steel, furniture and wires that provide protection. It’s a place full of energy. Both positive and negative. It’s an unspoken member of the family. An overseeing guardian. Someone or something to watch over you. To feel along with you.

When our parents sold our childhood home we all cried. It was time. The outer laying community was expanding and congesting. Living on the corner was no longer conducive to our lifestyle. If we could’ve picked up the house and moved it somewhere quieter we would have. But that wasn’t the case. There was some comfort in knowing that a house that took such great care of us as a family was now going to be able to do the same for a new family. There would be children again running up and down the stairs, playing in the backyard, climbing the trees and sleeping on the floor. There’d be laughter, love and holiday celebrations. The house deserved nothing less. So when I drive passed I still blow it a kiss, place my hand over my heart and say a prayer of thanks for a great childhood.


I only wish my mom could do the same when she travels back to her hometown. Somehow I don’t think the home improvement building cares much.

My grandmother and her sisters-in-law (1964)

Patience and Responsibility: A match made here on Earth

I've come to the conclusion that we, as human beings, are moving so fast that much has gotten left on the wayside. We speed, not only on the road, but through our lives. Wanting to do everything at once and before our life is over. Life is precious. Why wait on what we can do now? I get all that. I believe it, up to a point. When we rush through our day without staying in the present then we lose something. What that something is I don't know. I'm not a psychologist, professor or historical specialist. I'm just little ole me, learning my own lessons and hoping to impart some of what I've learned to those who'd find comfort from my experiences.

In addition to racing through our day-to-day existence I've noticed how easy it has become, for some people, to project blame on anyone but themselves. Some drivers apparently don't know how to obey the speed limit in neighborhoods so let's add speed bumps or lower the speed. How does that change the habits or address the root of the problem? I understand that safety is the main issue at hand. Children should be able to walk down the road without the danger or someone racing around a corner. But, as much as I applaud local polictians and neighborhood watch members I also wonder whether people really care to figure out the root of the problem? Or are they more comfortable simply putting a bandage over the issue and saying they did something?

We are responsible for our actions. Not our parents. Not our employers. Not our children. Granted, there are many instances when the actions of others impacts us. That's a given! We're meant to connect with our friends, family and community. But...that doesn't mean we are exempt from taking responsibility of our choices and subsequent actions. We're living in a "He started it" kind of world these days. A country ready, willing and able to shirk our responsibilites and blame someone, anyone, else in lieu of doing what's right, fair and just.

I've been told that patience is a virtue. Is that because it's rare? I certainly hope not. I do know one thing, I'm not waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. They've already speeded on by without a second glance!

What a difference a week makes!

The day after the Tonys last week I took to my blog to write about how much I enjoyed the awards ceremony. I had sincerely hoped that I’d be doing the same next week after the Daytime Emmys. But unfortunately, that’s not the case. Last night’s Emmy ceremony was an absolute disgrace and utter embarrassment to not only the daytime fans but to the hardworking cast and crew who work so tirelessly in this industry.

I lost count how many times I raised my hands in frustration and exclaimed, “What does this have to do with anything?” From performances that had no connection to daytime (other than promoting Las Vegas shows) to blatant commercials for Las Vegas and other resort destinations. And as much as I truly believe that Oprah Winfrey deserved to be recognized for her remarkable achievement in the daytime industry did we really need two celebrity performances? I would’ve much rather seen clips from her 25 year history that reflected the integrity, excellence and class she was so well known for. You could’ve cut the first montage of celebrity guests, the musical tributes and just had the clips of how Oprah made an indelible imprint on the industry.

What we should have been treated to was a celebratory evening where the work of the nominees took center stage. Why not take the time and energy into putting together well-thought out montages of each drama series nominated for Best Daytime Drama? It’s not like it’s never been done before! There weren’t even brief clips of the nominees when their categories were announced. For those of us who don’t watch all the nominated shows it would’ve been beneficial to learn what made their show worthy of a Best Drama nomination.

I applaud CBS for keeping the Daytime Emmy awards on the air but I am confused as to why they made that decision if they weren’t going to treat the ceremony with the respect and admiration it rightly deserved.

So while Las Vegas seems like a great place to visit, charitable organizations are deserving of our appreciation and self-promotion can be a handy device they have no place in an award show ceremony. Especially when they detract from the nominees, the industry and their fans.

Award show praise: The 2011 Tonys

All other award shows of this season and next take note; The Tony Awards knows how it’s done! You’d be remiss to not look to them for inspiration and motivation when planning your own production. Here are just a few reasons The 2011 Tony Awards deserves praise:

• NEIL PATRICK HARRIS: A host who’s funny, smart, respectful and multi-talented. He’s a perfect fit for the theatre industry because of his wide range of talent. Not only can he pull off one-liner zingers but he can sing and dance. But most importantly, he supports the industry. He’s a fan of the Broadway community and that affection shows in his hosting duties.


• SHOWCASE OF NOMINATED WORK: The Tony Awards are known primarily for the musical numbers performed each year. And understandably, you’re not likely to find a Best Picture nominated scene to be re-enacted at The Oscars but the Broadway community understands not only their audience but their industry as well. They have a respect for the work created and don’t hesitate in showing it off.


• DIVERSITY: Not only does The Tony Awards include many age, ethnic, sexual orientation and religious groups but the work represented are just as diverse. From the classic Broadway style musicals, like “Anything Goes” and “How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying” to the edgy, contemporary musical “The Book of Mormon” Broadway’s range of topics, style and genre makes it appealing to a wide array of potential theatre goers.


• SUBDUED CELEBRATION: Ok, so perhaps you wouldn’t necessarily think of a Broadway community as being subdued but let me explain. The show isn’t about flashy stars, who’s wearing what or blatant marketing tactics. Instead, The Tony Awards celebrate the work of their community in a way that showcases their strengths. The show, in and of itself, is the best marketing tool the community has available. If a viewer doesn't have a desire to come see a Broadway show after watching the awards then the broadcast has done a disservice to not only the industry but to their audience as well.


• STAR POWER: Most viewers wouldn’t be able to recognize a great many of the nominees if they passed them on the street but you still get a feel for their work by the recognition of their peers. Sure there are stars in the Broadway community but I don’t mean TV/Film personalities who get top billing. I’m thinking of professionals like Sutton Foster, Patti Lupone, Matthew Broderick, Kathleen Marshall, Patrick Wilson, Rob Ashford and more; Individuals who are well respected within the community and whose longevity in the medium earns them the respect of their peers and theatre aficionados.
  
  So, if you’re getting ready to plan out your award show production style I invite you to look to the 2011 Tony Awards as a model of inspiration.
  
  All the best,
  Kelly

A Social Writer

I’ve never really been what you’d call a social butterfly. High school and college weren’t about making friends, though that was a bonus. Instead, I relished the opportunity to learn. I looked forward to, or dreaded, certain courses depending on the teaching style, level of personal interest and motivation. Growing up a relatively shy individual being part of a large group created apprehension within me. If I was out of my comfort zone then forget it! I wasn’t going to the party, dance or any other social event where I didn’t feel comfortable. Eventually, my viewpoint shifted when I came to the realization that how people perceived me took up too much of my valuable mind space.

Thank goodness for creative writing! This tool gave me confidence when I lacked meaning, direction when I lacked motivation and value when the world seemed too big. The words I took the time to select in my writing mattered to me. I took great care in what I put on paper because it was the most valuable outlet I had available to communicate what I’d left unspoken.

Three years ago I took a chance and joined a local writers group. Ever since, not only has my writing strengthened but so has my confidence. What I have to say matters; whether it matters solely to me or anyone else is irrelevant. I love what I do. I’m making an imprint in this world while continuing the tradition of communication.

When I attended the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference on June 3rd-5th of this year I was slightly hesitant at the knowledge that I did not know anyone else there. I kept to myself when I first arrived, put pencil to paper and started writing. That is until I sat down for the opening presentation, closed my notebook and made eye contact with those around me. I became aware of how many other writers there are in the Philadelphia area. And while that realization could’ve amplified my worry of getting published I found comfort in so many others who shared my affinity for the written word.

I met some wonderful individuals during this conference, attended fantastic workshops and was impressed by those who chose to facilitate/instruct the individual courses. This experience is one that will stay with me for many years to come. It reinvigorated my desire to pursue writing on a professional level and that helps make this butterfly soar.

Pet Peeves

I have a ton of pet peeves. Truly, I do! For example, clothes left in dressing rooms, carts abandoned in parking spaces and cars that are apparently made without turn signals. My initial reaction upon seeing any of the above is immediate disappointment, frustration and annoyance. “Why are people so lazy,” I say. Then I stop, take a deep breath and re-examine my thinking. Sure, we all have moments when we're having an awful day and just don't feel like taking the effort to wheel a shopping cart 5 spaces back to its covered home.

Who am I to judge the reasons behind someone else's choices? Perhaps that person woke up to bad news, recently suffered a great loss or is overwhelmed with stress. My frustration, as true as it may be at the time, doesn't do anyone any good. Most of all me! So, the next time I answer the phone and a customer's unhappy, displeased and aggravated tone of voice greets me it's up to me to decide how I react. Do I counter their malcontent with my own? Or do I take a moment and realize there could be more going on in that person's life then I know?

How often do we say “Don't take it personally” then turn around and do just that? That annoyed customer may deflect her issues onto me because I'm the one who answered the phone but if I allow her actions to define mine then I'm only perpetrating further malcontent. I can't control anyone's actions but my own.

Those of you reading this will hopefully consider who really feels the effects when you become enraged because someone cuts you off, drives too slow or stops at a yellow light. You may honk your horn at me, that's your choice. But it's also mine to shake my head and continue on my way without letting your actions define mine.

All the best,
Kelly

Lightening my life

I've been thinking a lot about happiness. About what that truly means. How do I define joy and happiness in my life? There's this nagging disagreement within me that takes exception to the idea that one must endure grief, overcome difficulties and suffer pain in order to truly value life in all its glory.


And life is glorious indeed. At least, it should be. In my humble opinion. Why is it necessary to be miserable, grumpy and depressed in order to come out the other side a much thankful and joyous individual?


Have the difficulties I struggled with over the course of my life so far made me capable of reflecting upon these very issues? Or have I always had the capacity to do so? There's no way of knowing; of going back in time and predicting what my life would come to be. But I do know each choice in my life was a contributing factor to my own happiness level. I spent many years absorbed in misery, depression and malcontent. I desired so much for my life but didn't see a way to grab hold of it. To pursue my dreams of a fulfilling career, marriage based in respect and love, and a strong foundation of friends.


I kept wishing, wishing, wishing for more. For life to bestow something upon me. Instead of changing my mindset to recognize all that I already had. I chose the unhappiness because it was easier in many ways. Succumbing to the deep black hole of sadness that lived within my stomach was something I became accustomed to. I understood it. I embraced it. I kept it safe. I wrapped myself up in a cocoon, put on my headphones and sought help from a higher source. All the time whining about why my life was so hard. Why couldn't I get passed the misery, disappointment and cyclical ups and downs of life in order to be truly at peace and happy?


It took an unlikely situation of irrational fear for me to realize that I had a choice. A few years ago, after spending a year living on my own in a converted apartment I became afraid of turning on a light. No really. I did! After a minor electrical issue I was more comfortable keeping the lights turned off in my apartment. I was terrified of turning on the switch in the event that it would spark a fire. And so, I would stay out until it was time to go to bed, keep the lights off and curl up in my warm, comfy bed.

Needless to say, my unexplainable, frustrating, worrisome fear of electricity led to a family intervention of sorts. An in-depth discussion with my father, a reinforcing girl chat with my mother and sister, and a need to write out my frustrations were the catalysts to my realization that I was afraid of sparking the light in my own life. Afraid of actually achieving my dreams.


I could decide to live in regret, resentment and disappointment or treasure each moment. As I lay in my parent's bed staring at the ceiling my mother came in and simply said, "I'm really getting worried about you. This isn't right. You're lying here alone instead of sitting with your 3 year-old nephew and playing "Lite-Brights". Parden the pun, but a light bulb went off at that moment. I realized that my precious toddler age godson was living a life full of laughter, happiness and unconditional love while I sank deeper into my own self-inflicted depression.


Each day since I've made it a constant goal to be more aware of my life and how I perceive it. The world around me is a little brighter all because I make the choice to turn on the light!

All the best,
Kelly

A public service announcement

I am a product of the public school system; and very proud of that fact! I never had to wear a uniform, learn any specific theology, or endure unreasonable expectations. That's not to say that I loved every single part of the public school experience. I did not. My biggest complaint was the restrictions placed upon the students by the administration. It felt more of an obligation to go to school than a personal enhancement regimen.

I hated getting into trouble; which is odd because I so rarely did. I suppose it was more disappointment that bothered me more than anything else. I had the disorder known as "people pleasing" from a very early age. Once I arrived at Junior High School the disorder became more intense; yet at the same time it battled against my ever growing independence. It was about that time in my life when I realized that my opinions were valid, even though they were not always asked for. You become a teenage and all of a sudden the level of respect you receive severly diminishes. Why? I don't know. What I do know is that it bothered me beyond reason.

Once I got to high school the irrational rules and expectations placed upon the students by those in a decision making position was at a frustrating level. I distinctly remember receiving the Student Handbook one year, which was almost as thick as a Shakespeare anthology, and being told that you couldn't graduate unless you turned in the signed page showing you read the Handbook. Really? That determined my ability to graduate? That meant that I had achieved what was needed from an education standpoint? It was absolutely ridiculous to me, but I signed the silly thing; without reading it.

I have a great respect and admiration for those who choose education as their chosen profession. I have from a very early age. At this point in my life I am surrounded by teachers in my private life. Numerous family members and dear friends are among those who work so tirelessly to impart wisdom, education and opportunity to the future generations. I loved my teachers, from a child's perspective. I didn't always like the teaching style of all of my professors but I respected their position. Their hard work and dedication to their craft impressed me and demanded my affection. Just as in any other line of work, there are always those who lose track of why they ended up in the career they're in now. You can easily become disillusioned, feel unimportant and disrespected despite the passion you have for the job you do. Teachers are not alone in that plight.

It wasn't until I CHOSE to continue my education on a university level that I realized why I disliked my high school experience so much. And it had nothing to do with my teachers; it was the self-serving, afraid of lawsuits, taxpayer pleasing administrators who treated the students as inferior that riled me up so much. In college, I didn't have to raise my hand or ask for a hall pass in order to use the rest room. I simply would get up quietly, leave the room and return just as unobtrusively as I left. Yes, it's possible! I also was responsible for my attendence, and subsequently what I put into my education I received two-fold. I so wish, looking back, that I had been treated with the same level of trust and respect in high school that I received in my college years.

What do I value most about my public school education? The diversity; among the students, the teachers and the subjects. I went to school to strengthen my education, not to socialize. That was a bonus! It was up to me whether I succeeded or not. And my definition of success may have differed from others. I failed in high school because I didn't have the confidence to speak up and voice my opinion when I felt it could improve the situation. I succeeded in college because I understood that it was up to me to detemine my own path in life.