Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 111

“I never thought I’d come back to New York. I have a lot of...

“I never thought I’d come back to New York.  I have a lot of bad memories here.  It can be an ugly place.  My ex-husband lives here.  On September 11th I was on the street below the second tower.  So there are things I’d just prefer not to remember.  But recently my mother got sick and I came home to take care of her. I was in a bit of a rut at the time.  I’d fallen away from my passions.  I was just working to pay the rent.  And one evening I was walking by the river and I passed a place called Hudson River Community Sailing.  They offered free sailing lessons.  I don’t know why I stopped.  I was intellectually convinced that sailing was not for me.  I was getting older.  I was out of shape.  But I decided to give it a try.  And I got hooked on it.  I got kinda obsessed with learning to sail.  I remember the first time I was out there alone.  It felt amazing.  I was in the middle of the Hudson, the wind was blowing, I could see the whole city, and my hand was on the tiller.  It seemed like I was doing something impossible.  I’m not white.  I’m not male.  I don’t own a boat.  I don’t even have money.  But I’m in New York City and I’m fucking sailing.”

“The vibe was in the air. You know it. Kids know. I wasn’t...

“The vibe was in the air.  You know it.  Kids know.  I wasn’t welcome or wanted.  My mom felt trapped.  She didn’t want her husband and she didn’t want kids.  She viewed me as a problem.  Everything that went wrong was my fault.  There was never a ‘How was your day?’ or ‘I love you.’  I wouldn’t even call it a childhood.  I never had a chance to be a kid.  So I started having sex very young.  I was only twelve but I was looking for it.  I met him in the men’s room of a movie theater.  He was a drifter.  I never felt hurt, or forced, or manipulated.  He never lured me with candy.  I didn’t even know the word ‘pedophile’ existed.  I was just thankful for the closeness.  I visited him on the weekends.  There wasn’t much conversation.  He never asked me about my week.  He never asked me about school.  What can I say?  It was what it was.  It wasn’t right or wrong to me.  It was a comfort.”

“When I came here I was alone. I was sixteen and didn’t speak...

“When I came here I was alone.  I was sixteen and didn’t speak any English.  I remember on the first day of school, some guy was making fun of my younger brother and I punched him.  A few guys saw what was happening and ran down the hall to help.  They backed me up.  And afterward, they said: ‘We want you to join our group.’  So I started hanging out with them.  There were a lot of parties and girls.  It wasn’t bad at first.  A few times they asked me to punch someone in the mouth.  But the farther I got in, the crazier shit got.  I started using rocks and bats on people.  I just followed orders and never asked questions.  Then one day they asked me to attack a guy from our gang.  He was one of us.  And they wouldn’t even tell me why.  I realized that if they’d do it to him, they’d do it to me too.  So I left.  Whenever I see kids in the street now, I try to tell them: ‘Go back home.  Listen to your family.  Cause if anything happens— if you end up in the hospital or in jail, nobody from your gang will visit you.  And if you get killed, they won’t be the ones crying.”

“After the divorce I threw myself into work. I’m in residency...

“After the divorce I threw myself into work.  I’m in residency to be a psychiatrist, and I found that I could forget my problems if I focused on my patients.  But I’d come home feeling numb.  I wouldn’t sleep well.  I lost fifty pounds.  I kept convincing myself I was fine because I was still being so productive.  But when I started having thoughts of suicide, I knew I’d reached my tipping point.  I confided to my program director that I was going through a major depressive episode.  She supported me 100% and referred me to the psychiatrist I see today.  When I’m ready to get my license, there will be a question on the application that says: ‘Have you ever had a mental illness that impaired your ability to treat patients?’  I’m going to answer ‘no.’  Because being a patient has been a revelatory experience.  It’s taught me how difficult it can be to verbalize what you’re feeling.  And it’s taught me the power of denial, even for someone who studies the symptoms.  When I began the medication it was like a veil had been lifted from my eyes.  So much of what I know about depression, I learned by getting through it.”

“When it starts to get crowded, I’ll leave. Because I can’t...

“When it starts to get crowded, I’ll leave.  Because I can’t stand the looks.  You know how many people were gonna sit on that bench over there, but decided against it, because of what’s sitting right here?  I drank myself into homelessness.  So I’m not looking for violins or tissues.  But I used to be in the mainstream.  I was somebody once, and people used to look at me without any barriers or animosity.  I can tell you this: when John Lennon sings ‘Imagine,’ it’s complete bullshit.  He was living in the Dakota when he wrote that, overlooking Central Park.  Imagine no possessions?  He should have written a song about all the wonderful things that he had.  Imagine nothing to live or die for?  No Yoko?  No career?  No child?  No fame?  No status?  Well here I am.  There’s no peace here.”

“My parents are from the same small village in Mexico. My...

“My parents are from the same small village in Mexico.  My mother was the daughter of a successful farmer.  My father was very poor.  Supposedly they never spoke to each other.  My father says he would sit on a rock and admire her from far away.  She lived in a big house.  She could barely leave because her father was very strict.  So they came to America for two different reasons.  My father came for work and my mother came for excitement.  They both ended up in New York, working at a small Mexican restaurant in Harlem.  My grandmother always laughs at my mother.  She says: ‘You ran all the way to America to marry a boy from the village.’”

“We had five kids together, but she’s a Gemini so she’s two...

“We had five kids together, but she’s a Gemini so she’s two faced.  She bought me a Greyhound ticket and sent me away.  Never told me why.  Could have been the not working.  Could have been the weed smoking.  But the worst part is that she threw me on child support.  Now I’ve got a $100,000 lien on my name.  It comes off the top of my check.  I could work all week and bring home $40.  So I’m better off not working.  It’s bullshit.  The government wasn’t in bed when I was fucking her.  Now they want to control me.  I don’t believe in their laws.  I follow natural law.  The Law of the Ancients.  I just have to find a way to disconnect from this social security number.”

“The second I started it was off to the races. I was twelve...

“The second I started it was off to the races.  I was twelve or thirteen.  It’s the age you begin to realize that there’s some sort of norm.  You notice there’s a fellowship of people who can engage with each other, and these people tend to act or dress a certain way.  I yearned for social interactions.  I’d spend hours replaying certain situations, trying to figure out what to say or do differently.  I hated what I saw in the mirror.  And it didn’t help that I was a middle schooler in the closet.  I think the downers slowed me down to a train of thought I could handle.  They made me less inward focused.  I stole the alcohol from my parents.  And I’d sell shit from the house for the weed and pills, or coke, or even crack.  My parents couldn’t trust me for five minutes.  They put a pool alarm on my door.  Then they took the door off completely.  I told myself they were controlling and delusional, until finally I broke down crying and asked for help.  Next month will be three years sober.  In the program we have a saying: ‘If you follow the rules, you’ll get a life beyond your wildest dreams.’  It sounds a little ‘culty’ but it’s true.  Of course my wildest dreams weren’t the highest hopes.  I just wanted the ability to interact with people.  And I wanted people who care about me.  Now I have both, and it’s a beautiful thing.”

The first thing I noticed was a tremor. I’m a computer...

The first thing I noticed was a tremor.  I’m a computer programmer and I kept accidentally hitting the shift key.  Then I started to lose my sense of smell. And finally came the depression.  My wife made me see a doctor.  She said to me: ‘Either you get on an antidepressant, or I’m going to.’  That’s when I learned I had Parkinson’s.  Over the years my tremors got worse.  My voice got quieter.  I had to quit working.  My dopamine levels fell so low that I lost communication between my brain and face.  I couldn’t express any emotion.  My daughter grew up without seeing me smile.  I probably seemed distant.  A lot of times I felt like I couldn’t fit in with the rest of the family.  Then a few months ago I had an experimental surgery.  They inserted a wire in my head that stimulates the brain with electricity.  Now all my emotions are coming back.  I’m more talkative.  I have more energy.  I’ve cried more in the last few months than I have in the past thirty years.  And for the first time in her entire life, my daughter can finally see me smile.”

“I got assaulted in the swimming pool this morning. I was in...

“I got assaulted in the swimming pool this morning.  I was in the middle lane, like always.  It’s my lane.  And this woman swims right at me while I’m making my turn.  Physical contact.  I didn’t handle that well, because I’m a Libra.  I took it to another level.  I kicked my pace into second gear.  Next thing you know, she’s right on top of me, pushing me out of the lane.  I had to get management involved.  It ruined my morning.  I even cancelled my trip to the beach.  But then I went to yoga and calmed down for a hot minute.  And now I’ve invented another activity.  I went to the Whole Foods’ salad bar and created my own appetizer: Brown Rice Gluten Free Brown Chip Tapenade.  So I still got my fun in.”