This month’s AR Challenge is “What’s Your Story,” inspired by Richie Alan Naggar and hosted by Carol Williams and Anna Banana Kruchten CRS, Phoenix Broker.
IN THE BEGINNING
I was born in St. Elizabeth’s Hospital in Chicago, an early Catholic hospital established in 1887. The only time I went back to St. Elizabeth’s was to visit my mother during her last days in Chicago before she died.
My upbringing was seeded in the lives of immigrants from East Europe, Mexico, and Puerto Rico. They shaped me into who I am because of their deep faith, hope, and passion to live and work hard in America. The children I grew up with were newly immigrated, first generation, or second-generation Americans. The church in the photograph that I belonged to was St. Stanislaus Kostka Church. It's where my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, attended, and where I was baptized, married, and graduated. My relatives had their funeral services here too.
THE COMMUNITY
Sprinkled throughout the community were businesses, schools, hospitals, and restaurants of diversity. Like my grandparents, the nuns from the schools came from war torn countries; many were children when they were sent to concentration camps where their parents were executed. After coming to America, they were sent to live in orphanages. Many became nuns. Like hospitals, the majority of private schools were organized and run by the nuns.
DIVERSITY
Besides general education, I learned Common Courtesy and was graded. In between my house and school, I walked with my best friend Pat (same age) and her best school friend Juan. They attended pubic school. I went to Catholic School. Pat’s father, like the majority of parents died when their children were still under the age of twelve. My mother was the last living survivor of the neighborhood where I grew up.
A typical day in 1966 waiting for the Bus to take people to work Downtown
What shaped me into the person I am today is diversity, education, respect for the elderly, hard work, and getting along with all people. During my freshman year in High School, I paid my own tuition by cleaning classrooms after school. It was my duty to help my parents and contribute to my education. I did that for four years. When I was fifteen, I started working in an auto parts store where I was paid 50 cents an hour in cash which was against the law. I did physical labor carrying heavy auto parts. The man I worked for got fired.
My second place of employment was at Division Chevrolet. My manager was Mr. Garcia. I was the only girl who worked there and he was very protective of me and we had mutual respect. Because I was under the age of seventeen, he found me a job at the Record Shop a few blocks away, where he felt I belonged with students my age.
RIOTING
On my eighth-grade graduation day, the Puerto Rican Parade began that morning on June 12, 1966 on Division Street. What began was the first Puerto Rican riot in the United States, which caused a major disturbance between races. I walked home from my graduation while the rioting was taking place. As a response to the shooting of the young male who lived a block away from where I lived, the world from which I knew had changed in a single bullet.
BUSING
Freshman year of High School was the first year of busing in my neighborhood. Bussed to my school at St. Stanislaus Kostka were girls from Cabrini Green. By sophomore year, Dr. Martin Luther King was killed. In our school, we learned from the same books, hugged, sat together at the same lunch tables, played basketball, went to the same dances, prayed, and shared each other's company. Our favorite Teacher wasn't a nun. His name was Mr. Pariaswamy from Pakistan. He taught us about the real life in the Middle East. He was our "To Sir With Love!" There was no fighting, hatred, or animosities towards each other. At our age, we were all sad about the political upheavals and still hopeful for a successful graduation. We sang Kumbaya and Let There Be Peace On Earth. Our bonds grew stronger. We were just girls with hopes and dreams about the same things we wanted in life, a family, a home, and success. Diversity wasn’t a word my generation of girls had to learn. We lived it our whole life.
We were children of many different nationalities, backgrounds and ethnicticity
VIETNAM
After High School I got married to a recently discharged Vietnam Vet. It was very difficult for him to get work and we struggled throughout the 1970’s under the Nixon and Carter administration. I worked in Downtown Chicago at a Law Firm on Wacker Drive, an Insurance Company on East South Water Street, and finally Robinson, INC., the old Rookery Building at 209 South LaSalle Street reporting to the Vice President of the Company as a Secretary doing dictation, Shorthand, and Typing. It wasn’t until after my children were born and I quit work that reality became real. Long gas lines at the pump, blizzards, unequal pay, unemployment, discrimination against service men and women, and political unrest, I lived through all of that. We bought our first home with a VA Loan in the month of July, 1979. It was not easy. Hardships were many. But we were the lucky ones. Our interest rate was 10.5%.
PICKING MYSELF UP BY THE BOOTSTRAPS
By the late 1980’s my spouse was dead, my children were still in grade school. My son turned 10 years old, twenty one days after we buried their father. We grew up FAST! I was a stay-at-home mom. Life insurance wasn’t something we thought about. Life got better before it got worse. We were in the process of building our first new construction. That dream died. All the joy was gone soon afterwards due to brain cancer and a doctor’s death sentence of 24-hours or less to live. He beat the odds and lived for 3 1/2 months. I was his 24-hour a day caregiver and had to pull myself up by the bootstraps for us to survive.
EDUCATION
College education was financially a hardship. Because I had a house, I was not entitled to a Grant. Nor was my daughter either because I had a job and a house (which was still mortgaged). Rules were rules; financial forgiveness was not in my cards. Sacrifices were many. Yet faith, hope, and love for my children, ignited my passion. Sacrifices were worth it. Before moving to TX, I graduated with an Education Degree from the University of Kansas, three Associate Degrees from the College of Lake County, IL, a Bachelor’s Degree from National Louis University in Evanston, IL. I graduated high honors from all three schools and my children succeeded in higher education too. After being relocated by my company to TX I earned my Master's Degree from the University of Dallas, and Paralegal from Southwesthern in Dallas; then my Real Estate License in 2003.
LIFE-ALTERING
Life-altering experiences can happen to anyone, anytime, place, or age. I know that because it has been my life experience. I love to read and write beginning with my early years in grade school. My passions are many. As far as writing a book, I have written stories about my life, all my life. In more recent years, three editors read them; none were interested. No. I will not pursue writing with a published author and I have no intention of self-publishing. My decisions are not because of rejection. My passion is my business of selling real estate to people in need. I firmly believe in home ownership and want what's best for my clients and myself. I aspire better things for myself today which are personal. Until then, I remain a blogger on AR and will continue to discover my life’s purpose.
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