Talia's Blog

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

archives

November 30, 2008
The boys in Boston
I can hear the trees shifting, as the summer’s warm air travels though their palms. I can hear myself think. I am thinking how I would enjoy living my life just like this: worshiping with Africans, dancing with Zulus, and laying on a chaise lounge under a beach umbrella by the pool, writing as my son jumps in and out of the water. I had thoughts of Boston. I wondered if my boys were all right. I wondered if anyone was shot. I squeezed my eyes shut and spoke to myself, saying, “Leave the boys in Boston.” But then I remembered the three boys I saw yesterday, inhaling glue.
Drugs, South Africa, Travel
November 29, 2008
Three boys
I noticed three boys sitting idly on the grass under a Nando’s chicken sign in a small South African plaza. You can easily tell that they’re homeless, living on the streets, beggars. Two of them were possibly 10 years old and the other about 15. They wore dirt; you could see the dust on their clothes, their heads, and their faces. I noticed another young man, with food he had grabbed out of a nearby trash bin, walking toward the three. He unwrapped a sandwich and chips (they call French fries “chips”). Part of the sandwich was already eaten. He scattered the chips over a brown paper bag and...
Drugs, South Africa, Travel
November 28, 2008
Today we arrived in South Africa
There is something different about life here. It’s both stirring and stimulating. South Africa is more than its beautiful scenery. It’s more than the mountains, red dirt, and landscape. The Africans are different shades of brown skin, and they’re scenic. I see noses like mine and big bright eyes. I love the sightseeing.
South Africa, Travel
November 26, 2008
Remember the first time...
Do you remember the first time you had a crush? Or your very first boyfriend? How about your first kiss? Do you remember your first job, your first apartment, the first time you opened a bill with your name on it, and the first time you wished you still lived at home with your parents? That is how today felt for me – it was my first. Doing something for the first time comes with mixed feelings. The first kiss felt great; none of us is so sure about second base. I had to collect my strength to call him. The phone rang and he answered, using his words that will whisk you away if you let him...
Job, Memories
November 23, 2008
The broken elevator
In preparation for our family’s mission trip to South Africa, my husband, our two children, and one of the young adults that I pastor went to a mall to pick up a few things. We parked our car in the mall’s parking lot and then entered the mall through the Macy’s store. That’s how we’d remember where the car is parked. We walked in and out of stores, searching for black shirts for my daughter and white button-up shirts for my son, toiletries for me, and Cajun cuisine for my husband. The mall was crowded because of the start of the holiday season. After hours of visiting Old Navy, Victoria’s...
Elevators, Malls, Shopping, Travel
November 21, 2008
Rats!
I walked through the Boston Common, snuggled in a scarf that covered my face from the brisk Boston wind, on my way to fulfill my civic duty - jury duty. I am reminded that the city of Boston is beautiful, especially Beacon Hill. Beacon Hill was once called “Nigga Hill.” Between the Civil War and the turn of the century, Boston was one of the top migrant destinations in the urban north. Today, beautiful Beacon Hill is a neighborhood of federal-style row houses, known for its narrow, gas-lit streets and brick sidewalks. It is one of the most desirable and expensive neighborhoods in the country...
Rats, Urban Life
November 18, 2008
I'm tired of business as usual
What will it take for the leaders of our communities to see the reality? Why are service providers all trying to find their way by themselves? Is it not apparent that apart from each other we are acting aimlessly? I am tired of business as usual. There isn’t enough time in one day to continue to run into the same wall over and over again. The head bleeds, but no one notices. If I were a turtle today, I’d withdraw into my shell and stay there. Turtles can retreat and be alone when they feel vulnerable. The way our city does business makes me feel vulnerable. Our neighborhoods are vulnerable...
Community, Government, Urban Life
November 17, 2008
I am from the streets
This afternoon, I sat next to the facilitator in a conference room full of conversational clatter. It was a monthly meeting in which advocates who work on legislative policy for Boston youth share their work. Every time I attend this meeting, I feel like I don’t belong there. The lingo alone leaves me lightheaded. I mean, what is a “9c"? I reached that point where, if this was a movie, you’d start to hear birds chirping. I began to doodle, wondering if I just don’t want to challenge myself to learn, or if I genuinely don’t belong. I love the streets; I love everything about the them – the...
Community, Urban Life
November 14, 2008
My affair
Every day I spend time with him. Sometimes I wait until everyone is downstairs, and then I play with him. My husband yelled for me; he asked me to come downstairs with the family. They were watching the Boston Celtics play the Denver Nuggets. I lied. I told him, “I’m not a Celtics fan.” He is the first thing I think of in the morning, and the last thing on my mind at night. This afternoon my husband insisted that I stay away from him. “He knows,” I thought. My husband wanted to use him. I was slighted and snubbed. He spent the whole day at home; he could have used the laptop then. I realize...
Computers, Marriage
November 13, 2008
Friendship
Listening to the cars drive over the wet pavement, I felt a little down today. I thought about friendship. I watched my boys. They have a unique connection with each other. I have even heard them say, “I love you,” to one another. But lately I’ve noticed that Aj hasn’t been with them. Aj is a good kid; all my boys are, in spite of what you may believe about gang members. Aj was still on the fringes. He hadn’t quite crossed the line; still in school, and occasionally making curfew. I have mixed feelings about not seeing him. A part of me is thankful that he isn’t hanging out, but there is...
Friendship, Gangs, My Boys
November 12, 2008
.38 miles of life or death
In an effort to discover the kinds of services gang youth need, a local foundation facilitated a focus group with my boys. Sitting scattered in the chairs that the old church mothers sit in during the week to pray, the facilitators began to ask the boys questions like, “What can solve youth violence?” Although Mitch answered his cell phone the few times it rang, they were paying attention. They answered the question: “I don’t know. Violence will always exist.” The facilitators continued to probe the boys: “If there were services offered at the Boys and Girls Club, would you attend?” “No,”...
Gangs, My Boys, Violence
November 10, 2008
I'm pi**ed!
The city of Boston doesn’t pursue peace; instead, its pursuit is piecemeal. Harvard University, MIT, Northeastern University, Boston College, Boston University, and so on and so on. Yet we can’t identify even one Ph.D. professor who's poised and pragmatic enough to resolve our youth violence pandemic. Those academic sorts studied for the answer, right? Or could it be that a little black girl from the backside of the bricks has an answer? Or is it an answer unworthy of consideration because she forgot to demonstrate some fancy mastery of a particular field? I’ve done intensive research and...
Bureaucracy, Community, Violence
November 8, 2008
Who does this law protect?
This morning I read in The Arkansas Democrat Gazette that an eight-year-old boy was abandoned at a Nebraska hospital. That’s the 28th child to be abandoned since the recent establishment of a Nebraska law that allows parents to leave a child at a hospital without fear of prosecution for abandonment. They call it the Safe Haven Law. What parent walks away from their eight-year-old child!? I can’t understand it. Perhaps I can comprehend leaving an infant. I can even grasp leaving a one-year-old. But eight!? “At eight, the child is beginning to develop a subjective psychological conception of...
Laws, Parenting, Safe Haven
November 7, 2008
My family
This morning my son stood in the bathroom doorway with tears running down his face, tears caught in-between his caramel skin and his glasses. “What’s the matter?” I asked. He said, “I don’t want you to go,” and he burst into a sob. I laughed while holding back tears. I called upstairs to my husband - he had to see this. He asked Danny why he was crying. Danny explained himself again, then said to my husband, “You give me a headache.” I thought to myself, “Me too, baby.” Later, I was on a flight to Arkansas. I remembered this morning. Tears welled in my eyes and I dabbed them with a napkin....
Family, Marriage
November 6, 2008
"I ain't sh*t"
Four of the young men that I work with came in for our weekly session. They sat scattered in a circle. I pulled a chair to the center of them. Did you all watch the elections? I heard muffled “no’s” and one “yes.” I asked, “What do you all think about a black man being the next president?” The room was silent until someone said, “I don’t know that man.” “Did you all follow the race?” I asked. “No, not really,” they said. I planned to have a serious conversation with them today about giving up gangbanging. So I asked them, “Are you all considering throwing in the towel?” “No!” Then one young...
Gangs, Intervention, My Boys
November 5, 2008
Last night was historic!
Obama’s speech energized me. I felt a physical rush travel through my body. In awe, I watched as he embraced his wife and daughters. In wonder, I kept telling myself, “He won, he won!” Yes we can, yes we can, yes we can! As the camera slowly swept over the crowd in Grant Park, I saw hope and possibility in the eyes of the people. With excitement, I fell to sleep. The next morning as I walked to my car, I felt taller than my 5’4” self. I got in the car and tears ran down my face. I felt the need to do something. How do I bring that hope and possibility to the neighborhood in Dorchester?...
Barack Obama, Politics, Presidential Election
November 4, 2008
Election day
Today felt like summer. Or maybe it’s that today was Election Day. The warm air brought out many people. The entire day was a matter of choice and selection for me. I stood in my closet this morning, deciding on what to wear. I chose my grey pinstripe slacks with a grey collar shirt and grey v-necked sweater and hat. I stood behind a dais this morning and selected what I will share with the room full of wealthy white women about my black (Afro-American tales). I chose to park my car at a meter for two hours and got a 25 dollar ticket. I went with a side order of coleslaw for lunch, instead of...
Barack Obama, Politics, Presidential Election
November 3, 2008
Marijuana
I walked late into a pastors’ meeting, and sat next to my old boss, a well-known pastor in the city of Boston. He said, “There aren’t knifes in my back are there?” His comments are those of a wounded man. He is still hurt that I left his organization to work for another faith-based agency. I didn’t respond. I just sat down. I asked him about Question 2 (the decriminalization of marijuana) that’s on tomorrow’s election ballot in Massachusetts. The Boston Globe quoted him as adamantly urging voters to vote against Question 2. I told him that I completely agreed with him, that its passing will...
Drugs, Elections, Marijuana