In fact, I fear I am a jack-of-all-trades.

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humansofnewyork
“Chris was working as a caddy when we met. It was the summer of the US Open, so it was a lot of fun. We were hanging out at the bar every night. I did notice that he loved to party, but he’d never get abusive or angry. He’d just drink too much. Some...

“Chris was working as a caddy when we met. It was the summer of the US Open, so it was a lot of fun. We were hanging out at the bar every night. I did notice that he loved to party, but he’d never get abusive or angry. He’d just drink too much. Some nights he’d fall asleep in the back seat of the car. Or pass out on the floor of my apartment. But he’d always apologize the next morning and everything would be fine. But the drinking seemed to get worse as the summer went on. One time I took a trip to Florida, and my apartment was trashed when I came home. That was my breaking point. I dropped all his stuff off at his parents’ house and blocked his number. But three nights later he sent me an email. It said: ‘You’re right. I need help.’ So I made some calls and helped him get a bed in a rehab facility. The next morning I took him to the treatment center, and I assumed that was the end of it. But he kept calling. Every single day he’d call from the payphone in the lobby. He acted like a little baby at first. He wanted me to take him back. He wanted to know how long before people starting trusting him again. Then he’d get mad, and hang up on me. But he got more serious about sobriety as time went on. When he left rehab, he chose to live in a halfway house. He found a good program. He went to 90 meetings in 90 days. The whole time he kept calling to give me updates, and I kept answering the phone. My friends and family thought I was crazy. They’d ask me why I was still talking to him. And I wasn’t sure myself, but he never gave me a reason not to. For seven years he just kept doing what he said he was going to do, day by day. He got a job at Target. Then he moved on to a call center. Then he got a sales job. The entire time he saved his money so that we could buy our first house together. And he’s an unbelievable father. He makes breakfast every morning. Dinner every night. And he earned his Masters’ degree online while we had a newborn baby. This whole thing began with me trying to help him get his life together. But now he’s the one who inspires me. I look at him, and his sobriety, and everything he’s accomplished, and it makes me want to be a better person.”

humansofnewyork
“I grew up in a high rise across from Coney Island. It was a great childhood, but the neighborhood started to change, and my dad didn’t like it. So he bought us a house in Long Island. It had a big backyard, and a porch. I was finally going to have...

“I grew up in a high rise across from Coney Island. It was a great childhood, but the neighborhood started to change, and my dad didn’t like it. So he bought us a house in Long Island. It had a big backyard, and a porch. I was finally going to have my own room. We were so excited. But the day after we moved in, someone painted a message on our house. It said: ‘KKK, Niggers Move Away.’ I remember my mother started crying. But my father got angry. He said: ‘We’re not moving anywhere.’ And that same day he repainted the wall. There was one other black family on the block. And I think they had a better sense of what was going on, because they never let their kids go outside. But both my parents worked. So my sister and I hung out. Some of the kids were nice. But I started noticing the way their parents looked at me. It was a look that all black people know. The ‘what are you doing here?’ look. We lived on a canal, so a lot of the families had boats. And sometimes the kids would play in them while they were tied to the dock. But one day my friend Donna got called into her house. And when she came back, she told me I needed to leave. Because black people weren’t allowed in the boat. I was only eight years old. I cried the whole way home. Things got even worse when school started. Two boys named Dante and Michael would follow me to the bus stop. It was a quarter mile walk, but it felt like an eternity. They’d kick, and move away. Kick, and move away. Dante had corrective shoes with heavy soles, so his kicks hurt the most. The whole time they’d call me ‘monkey’ and ‘tar baby.’ There was nothing I could say to them. Nothing I could change. These kids were kicking me for no reason, and that’s what hurt the most. Deep down I knew I was a good person, but nobody saw that. And when you’re a kid, you don’t know enough to be mad about it. You just think that’s the way things are. And you sorta move on with your life. But you can’t move on completely. Recently my company held a George Floyd memorial. And my boss asked me to share my story during the video conference. When I told about those kicks, I started crying. So I guess that little girl is still in there somewhere.”

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We’re proud to feature @stiirped and her fascinating art in our #TSUKKIYAMA booklet! She loves hugs and dream pop music!

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> https://twitter.com/stiirped

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