My Trenton Story: A Crooked Rose from Concrete
As I hear the immortal words of Tupac Shakur, I am reminded of the beauty of the crooked rose. Tupac said “Why is it that when you see some ghetto kid grow out of all the dirtiest circumstances and he can talk, and he can sit across from you and make you smile, cry, and laugh all you can talk about is, my dirty rose, my dirty stems and how I’m leaning crooked to the side? You can’t even see I came up out of that”.
Growing up circa 1990, we faced many epidemics that nearly crippled us to the point of extinction. We grew up during the war on drugs, the crack epidemic, and the war on the Black family. We were growing up in chaos, turmoil, and strife. Thankfully, because our families instilled in us resilience, perseverance, and fortitude, many of us managed to make successes of ourselves.
My mother raised us to be a close-knit bunch. Family was important to her, so it was important to me. As siblings, we learned the importance of having one another’s back and that bond was to be broken by only God. We were not allowed to fight one another, only for one another. You messed with one, you messed with us all! My mother’s love was fierce, and firm and she loved hard. She was not one to play when it came to us. She advocated for us even when we were bashful about her intervention.
It was also during this time when drug addiction was prominent throughout Trenton. Our then mayor, Mayor Palmer, faced many challenges with the fact that those who fell ill due to drug addiction were criminalized for it instead of treated for it. It negatively impacted life, love, and harmony in our neighborhoods. During his first term in office, according to a 1990 Crime Report, Mercer County, had 2,745 people arrested for possession and 2,230 for sale/manufacture of drugs.
I remember looking around at the families around me and seeing how broken some of them were from the remnants of the crack epidemic. It was so sad to see death in so many faces that life once lived. In our communities, the welfare system considered the nuclear family seeking benefits as a fraudulent offense. You had to be a single mother to reap the full benefits without penalty, which systematically aided in breaking down the family dynamic in our communities.
Music was an integral part of many families. Our music gave a message that couldn’t be heard any other way. Despite it all, we had to remain optimistic while keeping our heads up to not lead ourselves into self-destruction. Music served as a soundtrack to the keys of life. It renewed our sense of Black pride.
Grandmothers proved to be formidable figures in our family makeup. My grandmother was no-nonsense much like her daughter, my mother. She had very strict rules and you either fell in line or fell to the ground from a beating for being disobedient. Thankfully, I stayed on the right side of the law for the most part. Well except for this one time, I decided to eat all my meal except for my carrots. I hate cooked carrots! She asked if I was done, and I said “yes” and asked to be excused from the table. She obliged. I remember heading up the stairs to my room. As I walked up the stairs, I felt this sting. I did not pay any attention to it and kept going to my room as I neared the top of the stairs, I felt it again. I turned around, and it was my grandmother tearing my butt up with a wet dish rag. She also let me know that I was to never waste food again. Women were an impenetrable force in the communities I lived and thrived in. A mother’s love seemed to fix all the world’s problems.
Trenton Central High School was the epicenter of teenage life. It was a popularity contest, and if you weren’t popular, you did not exist. I was a quiet, shy, and awkward Black girl who was socially and fashionably inept. I had social anxiety, so I spent my lunch hour in the library with my nose in a book or writing in my notebook. Another place I’d find myself was in Dr. Doughtry “Doc” Long’s classroom. Doc Long was smooth, smart, and intellectual. I admired and respected him from the moment I met him. The kind of man that commanded a room without the utterance of any words.
He was my writing mentor, which was even better than being in his class, which was always filled up. I could never get his class on my schedule. He taught me so much. He first taught me that poetry did not have to rhyme to be impactful. It was the epiphany that I never knew I needed. He also taught me that the only rule in writing was to write. He encouraged and supported me so much. He managed to convince me to perform in a school talent show. I thought he had lost his mind. Me onstage performing in front of my peers was the last place I wanted to be. Performing at Trenton High was like trying to sing at the Apollo Theater and I did not want to get booed off the stage. Doc Long’s confidence in me never wavered. It was enough to convince me to share my piece, “Don’t Mistake My Kindness for a Weakness.” Whatever nerves that consumed me left the moment, I stepped onstage. My peers went crazy, and I received a standing ovation. It was at that moment I gained respect as a writer.
Today I feel emboldened to give back to the community that gave so much of itself to me. I cannot give in money, but I feel that my time is invaluable, and it makes me feel connected to who I was and who I am now. It is an honoring moment, and I am humbled to serve.
Two organizations that I volunteer with are Dress for Success Central New Jersey and Homefront. At Dress for Success, I volunteer and speak at various events to give back thanks to them for helping me grow both personally and professionally. At Homefront, I have the distinguished honor of teaching poetry to their beautiful clients. I have sat in their seat before, and it feels good to aspire to inspire them to hope for greatness despite their current circumstances.
I just want to be a shining example in our community that ambition, passion, and drive fuels success. Don’t be scared to dream, be scared not to! I feel like my community taught me so much. I do not feel failed in any way. Even in the worst circumstances they still had the audacity to hope for more. What can be more rewarding than that? Writing this article renewed my faith in Trenton. Trenton Makes the greats, and the World Takes them and makes them greater.
