I have stood in line with my aunt at the check cashing place in the Bronx. It was dirty. The people rushed us and they took a portion of her money to cash her check. We walked there. She did not have a car.

After my father went to prison and my mother was getting on her feet, I got sick. My aunt took me to the free clinic in the housing projects in the Bronx. My body was swollen. We waited in the lobby for hours to see a doctor. I had anxiety. My body was reacting to my grief.

My aunt and I walked to the clinic that day and every day. If you've never been sick and had to walk to the doctor in your pain - you may not understand poverty.

I always kept the money grown ups would give me. Change from running to the corner store. One day we used all of my money to buy formula for my baby cousin. I remember being proud that I could contribute.

I always seemed to have more than enough when I was with my mother, but if we had so much, why was I at the free clinic or counting change for milk?

When I heard politicians talk about middle class I thought they meant me. We rented nice places. One had an attic that attached to the apartment next door, to help my neighbor gain access. . . to me. . . and our things.
We owned a Vega that started 50% of the time.

We shopped at Hills. I had McDonald's at least once a week and had money for a movie every Saturday. My friends called me spoiled. I remember the day we bought a TV. In 7th grade I got a brand new bed. I'd slept on hand me downs from 5yo until then. I believe I was spoiled.

The night before Thanksgiving a man got mad at my mom and took our turkey. We didn't get another one. Looking back. . . if we didn’t have enough money to go buy a second turkey - maybe we weren't as middle class as I thought.

My mother took me to the student dentist at the college. I had 7 cavities. All baby teeth. Some had to be pulled. My student dentist was nice but I'm not sure he had access to pain meds.
I still remember my whole head being lifted as Michael pulled my teeth.

My mom was an hourly worker - who could not get off work that day. My neighbor took me. We rode the bus home from the dentist. There I was. On a bus, with bloody gauze hanging from my mouth, a swollen jaw - fully aware that when I got home, there'd be no need for attic access.

I am a lawyer now. I have a good, but stress filled life.
My memories are too vivid and everybody I love hasn't made it out, so I keep trying to do my part. My need to retreat is regular and must be far away. . . from anything I'm expected to fix.

I fix things. I am a fixer. Even when I was broken I was good at fixing other people's things.

I'm thankful for my blessings, while also FULLY connected to and aware of the need in the world.
In 2021, let's focus on creating affordable rental housing in Louisville - but no attics. Things in my apartment may have been second hand, but I had a home - every child should.

And to those who challenge people doing the work, because you disagree with their strategies. You are a distraction. Know that. You don't add to, you take from. If we did a deeper dive, on what street would we find that you earned your cred?

It is not wise to be quick to crucify people who suffer different than you. Don't throw people away or burn bridges unnecessarily. This lack of strategy won't allow you true success at the work your heart wants to do.

You are brilliant but deadly - not to me - I've already died a thousand deaths, you don't have the power to kill me - you are killing you and, in the process, your good dreams are dying. Our people need you to be whole. Heal and come back more effective.

Signing off until next year. Merry Everything. Happy All things.
Leave some baggage in 2020.
Next year will have its share of trouble, you will need your hands free.