Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 11

“We began as friends. I’d just started growing my hair long. And...

“We began as friends. I’d just started growing my hair long. And that was when she was like, you know: I could braid your hair. And then she did it. And it was fire. After that we got into what we got into. It lasted two and a half years. Loved everything about her, truthfully. I wanted to keep trying. It wasn’t my decision. But people grow apart I guess. Sometimes you’ve got to just move on. Keep it gangster. Except you can’t trust many people with your hair. Only thing is, now I gotta pay for it.”

“When I was fifteen I was trying to lose weight by eating tomato...

“When I was fifteen I was trying to lose weight by eating tomato sandwiches. And man, it actually tasted good. You put salt and pepper, and some mayonnaise. That’s all I ate. Only problem is I live in the Bronx around a lot of Spanish people, and they always got nicknames and shit. So now my name is Tomato. I work at the stadium. But I don’t get to be at the games; I work overnights cleaning up. It’s like, fuck that. But I don’t work harder, I work smarter, I get lit. Today’s my day off so I’m just riding. I had to pull over real quick to switch to a different song. I need a song to go with the vibe. I got my suit on. I’m hyped, happy, sun is out. Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’. That’s what I need. That’s my song right there. Wooooo! It makes me want to rush. It makes me want to do all types of exciting things. It makes me want to go to Italy and ride a Vespa. It makes me want to go to space. Play Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ and give me a force field. I’d probably do it. I’d go to space.”

“It had to be terrifying for my parents. They came from St....

“It had to be terrifying for my parents. They came from St. Kitts with nothing. It was moment-to-moment, paycheck-to-paycheck. At one point we were living in a one bedroom apartment with eight kids. It was chaos. There was always something happening: fighting over the remote control, or whose clothes, or whose shoes. But we also had each other for happiness. All of us were going through the same thing. The whole family shared a single camera, a point and shoot. Everybody got a turn. And it got used a lot. Today if you go into my home, or my dad’s home, you’re going to find a bunch of albums. Whenever we get together, we’ll take them out. It’s mainly just photos of the day-to-day stuff: birthdays, holidays. Maybe a picture of us all sitting at a table, eating a meal. But if you think about it real quick: that’s what life really is. Some of my happiest moments are just eating with my family. Food, laughter, and a lot of people. That’s love to me. Nobody’s thinking about what happened before we sat down. Nobody’s worried about what’s going to happen when we leave. We just trying to get this food.”

“Right after we met, I was in the bathroom taking a shit and she...

“Right after we met, I was in the bathroom taking a shit and she came in and sat on my lap. I was like no fucking way. That’s when I knew she was the one.”

“I used to say: ‘I like to watch TikTok, or YouTube.’ But I...

“I used to say: ‘I like to watch TikTok, or YouTube.’ But I don’t really like to describe myself that way anymore. Because if you think about it, that’s not really something you do. It’s just something that pulls you in. It made me feel connected. Like, I know this person. But I really didn’t know them at all. And I’d sit at home getting sucked into this endless void of whatever I was watching. Windows closed, AC on. My dad would say: ‘Go outside and do something, it builds character.’  Most of the time he’d only say it because he wanted me to take out the trash, or go on an errand with him. So for a long time I didn’t think it meant anything. But it really does, if you think about it. Because every time you do something, it adds to who you are. You learn from life. Recently I joined a group called The Veggie Nuggets. There’s seven of us: me, my friends, a couple neighbors. We made a mural. We made a garden over by 69th and the bridge. We lobbied a little bit at the capital for climate change, because it’s kinda a disaster. I had to develop a certain mindset when I did those things. I had to affirm to something. I had to be motivated. And that’s a real thing,  motivation. It’s a trait. And now it’s part of my character.”

“It can feel like hamster wheel shit. My mental health gets in...

“It can feel like hamster wheel shit. My mental health gets in the way. I forget there’s a sun sometimes. But if I died today, my testament would be my community. It’s this huge queer community. Every color of the fucking rainbow. Every gender, every race, every orientation. Right now we’re having a memorial for our friend Tommy. Biggest queen ever, beautiful. Most everyone here has had to walk through life with difficulties. The way they present themselves hasn’t always been seen, or respected, or honored. But they’re still unapologetically existing. And they’re giving a lot of love. They might not have been shown a lot of love, but they’re giving a lot of love. No gender bias, no race bias, no financial bias. All they see is flesh, blood, and a fucking soul. I’ve walked among some of the most beautiful humans on earth. I forget that sometimes. I need to be more respectful of that. I’m living a life that a lot of people want. I’m surrounded by love.”

“My grandmother got us out of foster care, piece by piece. At...

“My grandmother got us out of foster care, piece by piece. At one point there were like fifteen kids in her home: all my siblings, all my cousins. She worked all the time, sewing linings into hats for Jewish men. There was a room in the basement with four sewing machines, and everyone had to do their part. It was tough love. But she kept us together. My mother never came to visit, not even once. Not even on weekends. And I was a curious kid, so that killed me: never knowing why. But every morning I got to wake up with my siblings and my cousins, and I was thankful for that. That was beautiful. And our grandmother gave us that. One morning when I was twelve she sat me down, and said: ‘Your mother wants you back, but you’re welcome to stay.’ She gave me that choice. And I decided to move in with my mother. By that time she’d gotten clean. And she showed me love. Way more love. Way more. Not in the way of: I’m going to give you a hug, or a kiss. But listening. Like, I’m listening to you. My grandmother was stretched too thin for one-on-one. So I’d never felt heard as a child. But my mother would take me on these long walks. She’d let me talk and talk. She’d be my ear. She taught me that I have a personality. I never knew I had a personality. It was always just wake up and do what everyone else does. My mother showed me how to be happy. She was so joyful. She wore the brightest clothes. She was like a rainbow in a person, and she became my best friend. She died of a heart attack when I was fifteen; she died in my arms. And part of me is always going to feel broken because of that. That’s the part I don’t show my kids, you know. The part that still feels alone. But we had three years together. And during that time she answered all my questions; that’s what I’m most thankful for. She was an open book. She told me her trauma, her story. How she met my father. How she was introduced to a lifestyle that she just didn’t know about. How she got so addicted, and how she never wanted me to see her like that. Not even once. Now I’ll never have to wonder. She gave me the gift of knowing. Knowing why she did what she did. But mainly, knowing what having a mom feels like.”

“Everyone cares about me because I love them because they...

“Everyone cares about me because I love them because they love me.”

“We were high school sweethearts. He came up to me in the...

“We were high school sweethearts. He came up to me in the hallway one day and I said: absolutely not. I was an honor student. He was smoking weed, running around, getting in trouble. My parents moved our family away from the inner city for a reason, and it was to get away from all that. But I knew his family. I knew where he’d come from. And also: sometimes I can see things. I’d pay attention. I’d watch him with his friends. And I could tell: this is not him. I knew he didn’t see himself in that space forever. And that’s been the most beautiful thing, of like, everything. Watching that transition. Seeing it all from the beginning: him figuring out that he was worthy of more. It took a while. There were times he messed up, and I won’t make excuses for that. There were lulls. We’d date other people for a while, but every time he’d come back hard. And not just like: ‘I’m sorry, babe. Please take me back.’ He’d put in more effort. He’d grow. And now he’s gotten to a place where he has a much better understanding of his existence. He’s a vegan. He meditates every day. And he’s very serious about it; he’s descriptive about the reasons he changed his life. A lot’s been thrown at him recently. Both of us work at underprivileged schools, which can be exhausting. But I’ve seen him stay up for twenty-four hours, go to work, then come home and still be present. He’s a nurturing father. He’s a protector. It wasn’t always in him. But it’s in him now. And not to toot my own horn, but I saw it. What I saw was this. Exactly this.”

“He’s a dangerous man. In December he came to visit. At the...

“He’s a dangerous man. In December he came to visit. At the airport he opens the door of the Uber, and it hits another car. The driver starts screaming: ‘You broke my car!’ I pull the guy aside, and I tell him: ‘Please, not this man. Not this man.’ This man doesn’t care about nothing in this world. All that matters is his family. If my mother is happy, his kids are happy, fuck the rest of the world.  When I was young he opened a restaurant in Genoa. He bought it for cheap; it used to be a Chinese restaurant. There was a giant dragon on the wall. He couldn’t afford to renovate. So he just left the mural on the wall, and named his restaurant The Dragon. After one year the restaurant failed, so he went to work on a cruise line. Every birthday, every Christmas, he was away from us. But blood is blood. The loyalty was always there. I took from him a lot of things. I never cry in my life. I solve every problem, every stuff, every bullshit. One year we have a soccer tournament in our town, for Italy’s accounting companies. My friend works at one of the biggest, and he tells me: we need a goalkeeper. So they give me paperwork for this fake internship. I show up covered in tattoos. We win every game. And after the tournament they give me a job for real. You have to take seven exams to get this job. Me? I do nothing. But the bosses know I have strong character, so they hire me. Now I am best in my company. Now I’m in America. I’d never left Italy in my life, not even on holiday. But I’m here. And I make a lot of money. A lot. The dragon is a promise. When I go back home, I’m going to buy back the restaurant. It won’t make money; but I don’t care. I only care that its ours.”