Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 170

“I lost some of my mojo. I don’t know how it happened. I had...

“I lost some of my mojo. I don’t know how it happened. I had mojo in college. I had mojo in grad school. I was studying Real Estate Development at NYU, and I remember feeling like there was nothing that I couldn’t do. I felt so powerful. Back then somebody asked me how much money I thought I could make, and I remember saying ’40 million.’ But something’s changed. Life beat me up a little bit. And these days I’m wondering if I have what it takes to put together a single deal. I’m not sure exactly how it happened. But somewhere along the way, all my confidence got replaced by questions. Are you smart enough? Do you have enough resources? Who are you fooling? But I’m going to start changing the narrative. I’m taking this as a sign from the universe that I’ve got to get my mojo back.“

“I finished Pre-K. The best part was playing and having...

“I finished Pre-K. The best part was playing and having friends. The worst part was doing work because that’s boring.”

“She committed suicide a week prior to our thirtieth...

“She committed suicide a week prior to our thirtieth anniversary. Our oldest daughter had died of leukemia a couple years earlier. Holly took it extra hard. We drifted apart. We’d parse our words. Nothing was natural anymore: ‘Do we talk this way?’ ‘Do we laugh at this moment?’ ‘ Do we even have a right to laugh?’ But I still thought we were doing OK. Things weren’t like they used to be. But I still thought things were OK. We rented a hotel room for our thirtieth anniversary. I was supposed to meet her there after work. She overdosed on pills before I got there. I don’t know why she did it that way. She said in her note that she wasn’t angry, but I don’t know why she did it that way. I fell apart. I started drinking a lot and doing cocaine. I lost my job. One day I was giving a presentation after being up all night on drugs, and I just started hallucinating. I thought one of the clients was Holly. I stopped the presentation and started calling her name. The company was nice about it. They gave me a nice severance package. But I gave all the money to my kids. I’ve been on the streets ever since. It’s been eight years. My kids have tried to give me the money back but I won’t take it. I ride the subways at night. If it’s warm enough, I sleep on a bench. I read a little. I write a little. I go to the soup line in the morning. I’m just existing. I wasn’t a good husband. I wasn’t a good father. And now I’m doing penance.”

“My husband and I have been trying to adopt a child from...

“My husband and I have been trying to adopt a child from foster care for six years. The process is unbelievably difficult. There’s a reason people choose to adopt from foreign countries. Right now I’m waiting on my son to finish his ballet performance. He came from an orphanage in Guatemala. Can you imagine how different his life would be if we hadn’t adopted him? So this time we tried to adopt in America. We’ve inquired on 530 cases in five years. We’ve reached the final round several times, but each time we’re not chosen. Once it seemed like we were finally on the brink of adopting five siblings. We spent so much time with them. We were bonded with them. But at the last moment, the top administrator vetoed our case. No reason was given. He thought we ‘weren’t a good fit.’ We were devastated. I still have their pictures. We’re good parents. We have six grown children and two who still live with us. Everyone is doing well. There’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to adopt. Everything moves so slowly because the bureaucracy is overloaded and underfunded. These kids have no money so they have no voice. I’m in a support group on Facebook full of people like me. Everyone is agonizing over the reasons that they aren’t being matched: too old, too many children, not enough children, not enough money. The guesses are endless. In the meantime there are 100,000 kids in this country who are waiting for a family.”

“Gram died right before Mother’s Day last year. She grew up in...

“Gram died right before Mother’s Day last year. She grew up in Georgia and spent most of her childhood working in the cotton fields. She dropped out of school after seventh grade. She moved North with her family and started working in a button factory. My mom was her only child. They both almost died during childbirth. Gram raised Mom all by herself, and after we were born, she helped raise us too. My friends called her Diva Miss Eva. She’d roll down the window of her Oldsmobile to tell people to pull up their pants. And she loved pink. We took this picture on the day my mom graduated from community college. It was in the middle of June. It was so hot. But Gram comes outside in a pink evening gown, mink fur, and evening gloves. We told her it was too hot but she said: ‘My baby’s graduating!’ She loved this photo. She put it in a frame and hung it above her pink bed. In her pink room.”

“I got a job at Great Adventure in 1974—the first year it...

“I got a job at Great Adventure in 1974—the first year it opened. I dressed like a barbarian. It was OK. But then I found some costumes that nobody else wanted to wear. They had been designed for the trampoline artists in the arena show. But they hated them. So I tried one on. And the rest is history.”

“I’d say twelve is the normal age when a kid around here comes...

“I’d say twelve is the normal age when a kid around here comes outside alone for the first time. That’s when the trouble starts. When you’re fresh outside and nobody’s telling you what to do. My mom kept me inside until I was fourteen. Both my brothers had been to juvenile, so she was more strict with me. I got arrested four times that first year. Probably four times the next year too. I never went to The Island, but my mom kept having to pick me up from the precinct. They called it ‘Disorderly Conduct,’ but it was almost always for fighting. A group of kids would walk by from another block, and they’re staring, and somebody yells out: ‘What are you looking at?’ And believe it or not– that’s all it takes. One little sentence. Everybody wants the pride of saying they didn’t back down. I could have chosen not to participate. But it’s hard to avoid. Imagine if one hundred people around you are smoking cigarettes. Nine times out of ten, you’re going to start smoking.”

“Every week I get one dollar for allowance. Then I get to...

“Every week I get one dollar for allowance. Then I get to choose the section where I put my dollar. There are four sections: spend, save, donate, and invest. If I put a dollar in the ‘invest section,’ my parents give me two extra pennies at the end of every month. I’ve only used my ‘spend section’ twice! I have way over $10 in my 'invest section.’ I used to have more but I took some money out and put it in my 'donate section.’ We used to it to buy food for people who don’t have much money in their 'spend section.'”

“Your friendships shrink as you get older—unless you have a...

“Your friendships shrink as you get older—unless you have a loose definition of friendship. I used to work with one of the richest guys in Philadelphia. He was seventy years old. He could have dinner with anybody in the city. But those aren’t the types of friends I’m talking about. I mean the people who really know you. I think it’s amplified for me because I’m still single. My friends have gotten married and had kids. They have less and less time to give. More and more people have come into their lives. But the amount of people in my life has stayed the same. I’ll text them to see if they want to go to a Phillies game. And I always get an immediate ‘yes.’ But something always comes up right before the game. They have to reschedule because ‘Ethan’s friend is having a birthday party,’ or ‘Sarah has a soccer game.’ It’s hard to not feel left out. I used to see these guys several times a week. Now it’s five or six times per year.”

“The more contact I have with people, the better I feel: eye...

“The more contact I have with people, the better I feel: eye contact, a smile, I’ll take anything. The moment somebody makes any kind of overture, I’m heading their way. So many people ask for my photograph. I always say ‘yes.’ It’s thrilling. Aren’t we lucky? We’re so lucky to be here. This street is so full of sweetness and people. I love this street so much because it leads to the park. I can smell it. Look at that beautiful dog over there!”