Talia's Blog

Talia Rivera
A mother’s life; arrived at from drugs, teen pregnancy, and jail, through faith and gang intervention.

archives

October 28, 2008
My mother
My mother is avoiding me. I saw her this afternoon. She waited for me in front of the Boston Medical Center’s entrance, wearing a black leather jacket, talking with two women who obviously abuse a substance. She appeared to ask the women to walk with her to my car, but the women shook their heads “no.” My mother avoided eye contact with me. She walked straight to the back window, to my son. Danny said, “Hi, little nana.” Her face said, “I’m tired, worn down, and beat up.” Her eyes were sleepless and her skin dead. My little brother, Malik, sat in the passenger’s seat, with a saddened look on...
Families, Grandparents, Parents
October 27, 2008
My daughter
I remember that when my daughter was maybe 10 or 11, she was awestruck with the notion of ironing her own clothes. I allowed her to iron one day, and somehow she burned her face. A blister quickly formed underneath her eye. Now that I write this, I am thinking maybe I should say she was 13, because allowing a 10- or 11-year-old to iron seems irresponsible. But this is how clever my daughter is – she put on a hooded sweater. She takes the hood and puts it on her head; strings drawn tightly and tied. My husband and I look at her and then at each other. “Why is she walking around the house with...
Daughters, Families, Mothers
October 21, 2008
People of integrity
What makes you a person of integrity? Do you have to be a person who is honest and truthful? The nearer I am to a person, the more that person’s integrity is revealed. Are you a person of integrity when you promise a child you'll buy them a candy bar and you don’t? Are you a person of integrity when you take a sick day from work and you’re not sick? Or does it have to be severe to compromise one’s integrity? Do I have to commit a great sin, like being sexually intimate with a man who isn’t my husband? I’ve learned that is it the little things that make a person of integrity. Keep your...
Integrity, Sex, Values
October 20, 2008
A mother's pain
“It doesn’t end on the street,” she said. Her 13-year-old son was shot in the head on October 4, 2007 by a gunman police believe was targeting someone else. His mother, Karen Old, sat across from me at a conference table. She wore a beautiful gold necklace and matching earrings and a pin with a picture of him on her chest; right by her heart. I saw the strength in her eyes and heard her heart beating through her words. “It doesn’t end on the street. I need to know,” she said. It wasn’t that she needed to know who murdered her son; she wants to know what is going on in the Department of...
Gangs, Grief, Loss, Violence
October 19, 2008
Living off daddy
It was my cousin Dee-Dee who told my grandmother that I was pregnant. I couldn’t tell her myself. I remember my grandmother coming to the door of my bedroom that I shared with my cousin and two sisters and any other family member who needed a place to sleep. She looked at me – her eyes piercing though me – she said nothing, turned around and walked away. Today I thought about being a teenage parent and the disgrace that comes with it. I thought about the hundreds of thousands of black mothers who are rearing their children alone and about the stigma that’s been associated with the “baby...
Marriage, Teen Pregnancy
October 18, 2008
Broken in little pieces
I sat in the bathtub after a long Saturday of cleaning. Lying exposed in the mildly hot water felt as if I was thawing. I stared at the silvery faucet and shower head, and the tiles. A thought came to mind, “You should slide under the water.” I indulged the thought for a moment. What would it feel like if I allowed my head to go under water? I denied the suicidal contemplation. My husband told me not to write about this, but I thought, “Why not?” There are many people who have thought about taking their own life. I would venture to say that almost everyone, at some time or another, has...
Depression
October 17, 2008
I feel alone
I feel alone. I am trying to do everything, and people still expect more from me. I’d like to run away to a secluded island for rest, peace, and quiet. I would love to be in a place were you can smell the morning and hear nothing but the birds; a place somewhere that’s nowhere, so I can clear my thoughts and regroup. But if I did, then who would answer Jeremiah’s letter, encouraging him to think of a possible 15-year sentence as just a stop on his journey? If I did, then who would talk with the boys and encourage their little triumphs? If I ran away, who would care whether the Mattapan...
Priorities, Stress
October 16, 2008
I'm tired
I know why people abuse drugs: to alleviate the pressure of mental throbbing. My head is hurting and tears run down my face. I am tired. Have you ever felt like breaking down? That is how I am feeling. It all started because of a damaged file. I was asked to write a reference letter for a University of Massachusetts professor whose tenure is being reviewed. I spent yesterday morning writing the letter that is due in two days. I saved it to my USB. Later I open the document to re-read it, and a box appeared on the screen that said, “Word experienced an error trying to open the file. Try...
Stress
October 15, 2008
My son
In the late afternoon my son and I were walking into our lobby, and there was a voter’s registration table with red, white, and blue balloons floating above the table. What got Baby Danny’s attention was the bowl of lollipops. “What is this table for?” he asked. “To vote,” I said. “Vote for what?” he asked. “The president,” I said. “Oh, you mean I can vote for Barack Obama,” he said with enthusiasm. I was soon in the elevator and Baby Danny entered with an elderly white woman. Her hair was cut short, and her glasses sat on the tip of her nose, like a schoolteacher's. Baby Danny realized that...
Barack Obama, Presidential Election
October 14, 2008
Army wives
It is hard to believe that there are some children whose life dream is to serve our country. The little boy who admires the army uniform and raises his left hand to his head in salute to the flag of the United States of America. Boys and girls who mature into men and women, then risk their lives to protect ours. Every day a solider dies; every day a solider sacrifices. I love America, born in the USA, the home of the free and the land of the brave. On Sundays I stay up to watch my favorite television show, Army Wives. I cried tonight because I realized that the sacrifice that a solider makes...
Army Wives, Marriage, Soldiers, War
October 13, 2008
Ah ha!
I had an epiphany today. Several, actually. As I drove down Dudley Street, I saw my mother, wearing a brown jacket and brown hat. Rage flared in me. I can’t do what my mother did to me and my siblings. I can’t do it! I really can’t wait for Porshai and Danny to go away to college. “Why?” Ellen asked. (Here comes an “ah-ha” moment.) Because I want to enjoy life. I have been taking care of my daughter since I was 17. For 14 years I have been a parent. I didn’t have the opportunity to be a teenager. I have been an adult too long. I was an adult at 11. I worried about the bills being paid. I...
Marriage, Teen Pregnancy
October 12, 2008
What upsets God?
There are times that I look into the sky and think of the awesomeness of God. The birds flying across today’s blueness were beautiful. The warm air was circulating, the sunshine was dazzling, and the taste of summer still lingered. The blue in the sky reminded me of the water beneath. What’s beneath me holds me; I press my feet against the ground to make certain it can carry me. Cars are carried, boats are held above water, and the sky is not falling. I don’t discredit what people believe, but there aren’t strings holding up the universe. Neither was it the big bang theory that expanded it...
Religious Faith
October 11, 2008
The big secret
Yesterday we celebrated the work of my colleague, Emily. Eleanor said that Emily is poised. I agree. I can’t imagine raising five children at age 32. I told Eleanor that I should have four kids. She looked confused, knowing that I have two children. “How? Did you have miscarriages?” No. “Did you have an ectopic pregnancy?” No. A year after I had my daughter, I found out that I was pregnant. I had an abortion. “How did that make you feel?” Eleanor asked. I was 18 years old. I didn’t feel any particular way. I just knew that I didn’t want another child. Then, when I found out I was...
Abortion
October 10, 2008
Who am I?
I joined coworkers at a restaurant to celebrate Emily, a fellow employee of six years, who is moving on. After an hour of leisurely conversation about the Federal Reserve Bank, our children, and the Boston Red Sox, my supervisor, Eleanor, stood up and spoke words of life to Emily. After Eleanor finished, others kindly spoke of their appreciation for her service. I was thinking of what to say about Emily. Some called her special and talked about the pleasure it was to work with her. Others talked about how she is so dedicated to her work. Then everyone looked at me; it was my turn, so I said...
Identity
October 9, 2008
HELP!
I was ironing and watching TV when the local news set me off. (Not a hard thing to do.) A reporter was “live” in the northern Boston suburb of Gloucester, Massachusetts. Gloucester High School is experiencing a horrific epidemic that is plaguing the community. Seventeen teenage girls got pregnant last year. This is an epidemic. Damn it, 17 teenage girls are pregnant. The parents want to know how this happened. The school committee is scrambling to change polices to address this issue. How did this happen in Gloucester!? The school committee met and agreed to put contraceptives in the...
Double Standards, Teen Pregnancy, Urban Life
October 8, 2008
My daughter
This morning I stood in my closet, staring at my clothes. Does this match? Does that match? I yelled at my husband, “Get up and wake your son and put him in the bathtub.” I ironed my son’s blue uniform pants and a white polo shirt for school. My daughter was up at 5:30 a.m. I am so proud of my daughter. She just graduated valedictorian from her eighth-grade class. She has been an honor roll student since she grew beyond smiley faces on her report cards. Porshai is not like I was at 14. I am sparing you, trust me. No adolescent is normal. But my adolescence was really not normal. I stapled...
Daughters, Parenting
October 7, 2008
Me, the bitter and naïve hoe
I drove up Blue Hill Avenue. Prostitutes my age work the avenue. A prostitute with whom I shared many blunts was standing in front of a Haitian Church at 7 a.m., looking to be picked, chosen by a trick. I drove past her, but in my heart I wanted to get out and tell her to get in my car. But then I realized, where am I am going to take her? I couldn’t take her home with me. So I kept driving and prayed two things. I prayed and thanked God that that isn’t me, and I prayed and asked God to help her. I feel like I have opened my legs, but there isn’t a monetary exchange. The Towne and Toppin...
Bureaucracy, Charity, Intervention
October 6, 2008
Our strays
I was at a corporation the other day, sitting in its beautiful lobby waiting for my host. There were three women; one is sitting at the receptionist desk, two standing over the counter. I listened as they talked. “My cat is lonely.” It sounded as if the receptionist had two cats and one of them died. She then mentioned a stray that lives behind her home. Another woman said, “I got a stray who was housebroken.” I pulled out my palm pilot because I had to write this down. For example, this: “Marco doesn’t like to be combed.” I was sitting in that lobby with the hope that I was asked to be...
My Boys, Urban Life, Villages Without Walls
October 5, 2008
Loss
I drive up Blue Hill Avenue at least three times a week. Today I noticed a Cape Verdean woman at the bus stop, carrying a brown paper bag. Farther down Dudley Street feels like Cape Verde. Not that I have ever been to the islands, but I can tell by the smell of the neighborhood - it’s not a Boston scent. Across from the woman with the brown paper bag is a Hispanic-owned tire shop that my Hispanic husband and I often use. As you drive farther up Blue Hill Avenue, you see what Washington Street in the South End of Boston once was, prior to its sandlots becoming multimillion-dollar condos;...
Gentrification, Urban Life
October 4, 2008
My boys
I sat in the parking lot of my church waiting for the boys. I told them to come an hour before the dinner was to start, because they are usually late. At 7:14 p.m. my phone rang: “Talia, we’re at Black’s crib, we on our way.” Two minutes earlier, Grit’s had called to tell me that his mother didn’t believe that we were going to a dinner. “Let me speak to her,” I said. “Yes, the boys will be coming with me to a dinner at the Blackstone Community Center. The Towne and Toppin Foundation has invited us to meet some of their donors.” “Are you driving?” she asked. “Yes, I am.” She said, “I don’t...
Gangs, My Boys, Villages Without Walls
October 1, 2008
Talia Rivera's bio
Talia Rivera, a Boston native and resident, is a 33-year-old mother of a teenage daughter and an eight-year-old son. As Executive Director of Villages Without Walls, she seeks to reduce violence by working with eight extremely high-risk gang members from across Boston’s violent inner-city neighborhoods. (She calls them “my boys.”) She and her husband also serve as youth pastors at a local church. Read the Boston Globe's interview with Talia.
Bio, Talia Rivera