Brandon Stanton's Blog, page 45

“I started having problems my second year of college. At first...

“I started having problems my second year of college. At first it was a lot of pain, and vomiting, and fatigue. Ben and I were doing long distance at the time, so he’d drive up on the weekends to take care of me. But during our visits, I’d always think: ‘He doesn’t have to be here.’ I wasn’t that fun girl anymore. The one he met while dancing on a table in Mexico. We could no longer do those things. And during one particularly long hospital stay, I decided to help him break away. I was going to write him a long letter, and pack up my things, and disappear. But I was never able to do it. Because I got too sick and needed him around. We ended up eloping in Las Vegas so that I could qualify for health insurance. And ever since then it’s been years of -isms and diseases. I’ve had eleven surgeries. So much of our relationship has been dictated by my health. We have three beautiful children, and there are days when Ben has to do everything: the cooking, the cleaning, the homework. But he still promises me that I’m a good mom. He never mentions the things I can’t do. He always reminds me of the things I’m able to accomplish. It’s always little stuff. He’ll say: ‘Don’t forget that you paid some bills today. And you colored a picture with Julian. And you read a bedtime story.’ There are times when I’ll withdraw completely. It’s normally after we have to cancel a vacation. Or Ben has to take off work. And I’ll start thinking about how he could be living a completely different life. I’ll go to a really dark place. But he’ll remind me that he chose this life. And he continues to choose it. Ben has been writing me letters for our entire relationship. He keeps them all in a safe. And they’re so important to me, because written words are easier to accept. You can read them over and over. The last one was a couple months ago. I was having a particularly bad day. And Ben came back from getting groceries. He sent the kids into my room with some flowers and a little note. It said: ‘I believe one day the mountain is going to shrink off your shoulders, and it’s going to be amazing. But life is not for waiting. I love you with my whole being, but I need you to love yourself too.’”

Thanks to everyone who tuned in last night for our event to...

Thanks to everyone who tuned in last night for our event to benefit independent bookstores. I thought it was a pretty magical conversation. And it was certainly a nice boost for the participating stores. But I know the stream got overloaded and many people were unable to get in at 8 pm. (Or the stream was almost unwatchable.) Everyone should have immediately received the full video upon completion. But I know many of you were kicked back with a glass of wine, and were in full watch party mode. So if the frustration killed your buzz, and you no longer want your book for any reason, you can get a full refund by reaching out to cs@unisonbooks.com.  Speaking of frustration, I know that many of you who preordered were feeling left out. You ordered a book early to support me. At a time when money is tight for a lot of people. And you paid the same price or more as people attending the event. So I’ve gotten permission from the event company to offer the video to anyone who has paid for a book. All you have to do is forward your receipt to honybookevent@gmail.com. If you bought in a store— a picture of your book will work just fine. (Please remember to check your Spam folder if a response isn’t received shortly.) This is perhaps an imperfect solution, but I’m hopeful that this is the choice that will leave the most people feeling happy. That was certainly the intention of the event. A lot of you have been supporting HONY for years. (It will be a decade next month!) And last thing I would ever want to to do is step on the toes of my biggest supporters.

“We didn’t talk about it much at her funeral. There were only...

“We didn’t talk about it much at her funeral. There were only about thirty of us there, and we all knew the story already. But we did place her Star of Courage on the coffin. It’s the second highest civilian honor in Australia, and its awarded for bravery. But my mum was no daredevil, believe me. She wasn’t the kind of person who would jump out of an airplane, or anything like that. And she had a terrible fear of spiders. After everything went down, she told us: ‘If it had been a spider, you’d have been on your own.’ She was already sixty years old when it happened. We were camping on a beach in a remote area of Queensland. The night was pitch black. There wasn’t even a moon. And we woke up at 4 AM to the sound of blood curdling screams. I immediately grabbed my gun and ran out into the dark. Mum and Dad were coming out of their tent at the same time, but none of us could see what was happening. Then somebody clicked on a flashlight and everyone saw it at the same time. A 14 foot crocodile was dragging our friend by the leg, trying to pull him into the ocean. Dad ran back toward his tent to grab an axe. And I reached for my gun, but I never even had a chance to aim. Because Mum jumped right onto the crocodile’s back. He began thrashing violently and threw my mum on the ground, then he turned around and bit a huge chunk out of her arm. That’s when I ran over and put two bullets into the back of his head. It was over in a split second. Mum was airlifted to the hospital, and ever since that day she was known as The Croc Granny. She got to meet Steve Irwin. She made a few TV appearances. And at first she seemed embarrassed by all the attention, but over time I think she began to enjoy it. A local museum reconstructed the skull of the crocodile, and presented it to her as a gift. She hung it on the wall of the living room. Right by the television set. And that’s where it stayed for the rest of her life.”

“The tumor had a very complicated name. At first they told us...

“The tumor had a very complicated name. At first they told us three to five years, and that it wouldn’t be painful. We tried to keep living. We tried not to think about what could happen, and just function as normally as possible. It wasn’t so bad when we were together. But the alone moments were wrenching. When we were falling asleep. Or waking up. On the one hand it’s dark and silent, and you feel calm. But there’s always this gaping hole of fear in front of you. During the day you can cover it up. You can get busy, and focus on work, and think about other things, but the moment the distraction passes, and it’s night, and quiet again, the gaping hole returns. It’s always waiting for you, the fear that you might lose the most important thing in your life. Her name is Dobrochna, which means ‘The Good One.’ And few names in Polish are so literal. She trusts everyone the moment she meets them. She wants to believe the best about the world. She’s wise, she’s funny, she’s sexy. And we think alike: I finish her thoughts, she finishes mine. We’re so much alike that it can sometimes seem like we’re a whole being. Whenever she’s not at home, if she’s presenting a paper at a conference or something, my life changes to functioning. I get up, I cook breakfast. If I’m bored I might go to a gallery or a concert. But to be honest, I don’t really enjoy these things. My only pleasure is that I’ll tell her about them later. I feel like nothing else could exist in the world, and the two of us could be fine. We move here, we move there, we visit new places, we meet new friends, and all of them are wonderful and wise and clever, but with all respect and love, they are temporary. I could survive without them. But I couldn’t survive without her.”
(Warsaw, Poland)



‘Humans’ will be released in two days. Almost ten years in the making, the book features hundreds of stories from around the world. It includes about thirty stories, like this one, that were never featured on the blog. You can order a copy here: https://bit.ly/PreOrderHumansFB

“The tumor had a very complicated name. At first they told us three to five years, and that it...

“The tumor had a very complicated name. At first they told us three to five years, and that it...

“The combination of Stephanie’s story and your open heartedness...

“The combination of Stephanie’s story and your open heartedness led to an astonishing $2.65 million being raised for her trust. Some of you may have noticed that Stephanie’s apartment looked a little brighter yesterday in her portrait with Mitch. That’s because she received a surprise visit from some of the children of ABC, which is the charity Stephanie selected as the beneficiary of her trust upon her death. The children brought her ‘Stephanie-themed’ artwork and photos, which are now hanging all over the walls of her apartment. ABC’s founder Gretchen Buchenholz also delivered a three-page handwritten letter to Stephanie expressing her gratitude. I’d like to share a small excerpt: ‘I started the Association to Benefit Children in the early eighties,’ she wrote, ‘when so many thousands of homeless children were hidden from sight. Today we serve over 5,000 of the city’s most vulnerable children, and our mission is to champion the right of all children to have enough food in their bellies and a place to safely lay their heads, to hear a voice they know, a song, a time for tenderness, or a moment to spread some jelly on toast. Thank you for reaching out to our children and giving them the opportunity to know and love you. Not only do they know you, but they have called you by your name, and have become a part of you. Your compassion comes from a place of enormous empathy. And I believe that’s the stuff that binds us one to another, and each one of us to that child within each of us.”

(33/32) If there’s anything that’s clear from Stephanie’s story,...

(33/32) If there’s anything that’s clear from Stephanie’s story, it’s her candor. But one condition of her storytelling has always been that we respect the privacy of her two children, and not include details about their lives. (Yes, there were two.) Many of you asked what happened to Stephanie’s first son. They have had a relationship for almost his entire life. Sometimes distant. Sometimes close. But by the time I met Stephanie, she had not spoken to him for a few years. This was clearly a source of pain for her. But Stephanie has that particular habit of people who have been hurt, where at the slightest hint of conflict, she’ll reflexively withdraw, so at least she can be hurt on her own terms. This is what happened with her son. I’d always wondered about Mitch. And during the course of our story, some determined readers discovered his Instagram account. I reached out to him and we had a long chat. As it so often goes, Mitch and Stephanie’s estrangement was based on a misunderstanding. There had been a particularly bad argument, and both were convinced that the other did not desire a relationship. Stephanie asked me to give Mitch her new cellphone number. And a couple days later they spent a wonderful afternoon together. It was the happiest I’ve seen Stephanie. ‘It hasn’t always been easy with my mother,’ Mitch explained. ‘But I know her story. And I understand her traumas. So I have nothing against her. It’s taken a lot of work, but I’ve arrived in a place of positivity. My worldview is this: ‘At all times, people are doing one of two things. They’re showing love. Or they’re crying out for it.’

(32/32) “I was walking down the street last winter. I don’t...

(32/32) “I was walking down the street last winter. I don’t remember what I was thinking about, but I was crying so I couldn’t see much. And I slipped on a patch of ice. I wasn’t on the ground for very long. Somebody rushed over and lifted me off the sidewalk, but I haven’t been able to walk since. Not much goes on in this apartment. Nothing really changes but the TV channels. So after awhile I started thinking that maybe the show was over for good. And to be honest I was kinda ready. It’s not like I could go anywhere. And nobody was coming over to see me. It was starting to feel like everything that was going to happen to me had already happened. There was nothing left but a bunch of stories. And those aren’t worth much when there’s nobody to listen. But then I got this one last gig. Right as the curtain was coming down, I get this one last chance to be on stage. One last chance to be Tanqueray. And I haven’t forgotten how to do it. Maybe I can’t wear my heels anymore, but I can put on my make-up. And I might not be able to dance but I can talk like I need to talk. To make people smile. And laugh. And to keep them looking at me, so I can feel like I exist for just a few more minutes, before the lights go out for good. It’s just a few minutes. That’s how long you’ve got to hold em’. It’s not very long at all. But if you’re doing it right, it can feel like forever.”
The Tanqueray Trust: https://bit.ly/2ZUjifW

(31/32) “Carmine ended up moving down to Florida to start a new...

(31/32) “Carmine ended up moving down to Florida to start a new life. Both of us dated a lot of other people, so there’d be long periods where we didn’t talk. But we never lost touch. We even talked on the phone a few times last year. It was always about regular stuff. I never started crying, or said: ‘I still love you,’ or anything like that. We were getting too old for that movie shit. But we’d talk about things that happened. Sometimes we’d remember things differently, and we’d start arguing over who was right. But we’d always be laughing. Until one day he just stopped calling. I thought maybe I’d made him mad. Because the last time we spoke, I’d been joking about the time he got crabs in Vegas. But then weeks went by and I hadn’t heard from him. So I started to think that maybe he was in jail or something. But one morning I typed his name on the Internet and found out that he passed away. His family was bringing him home to be buried in Newark. I wanted to go to the visitation, but I thought it would be kinda weird if I showed up. I’d be the fly in a bucket of buttermilk. So instead I lit a candle in my apartment and cried the whole afternoon. I still dream about him almost every night. And I still sleep with a teddy bear that he gave me. He was the only one who ever knew me. It wasn’t always good, especially toward the end. But when I was with him I felt like I had a place. When I came home at night, there was somebody who actually wanted me to be there. And you can’t just let go of something like that. Especially when you’d never felt it before. And you’ve never felt it since. Carmine was the only one who ever loved Stephanie.”
The Tanqueray Trust: https://bit.ly/2ZUjifW

(30/32) “The city has changed so much. New York used to be a lot...

(30/32) “The city has changed so much. New York used to be a lot better. Maybe it was better cause I was younger. Or maybe it was better cause it was better. But it used to be better. I never really cried about it or anything. Every time the city changed, I just changed right along with it. But at some point things started changing too fast. Or maybe I got slower. I fell so far behind it was kind of like: ‘What’s the point?’ There’s no place to go anymore. The adult theaters are gone. The clubs are gone. Times Square doesn’t even exist anymore. I mean, it’s still there, but somebody figured out they could make a lot more money if they turned it into Disneyland, so that’s exactly what they did. Now it’s just billboards, and flashing lights, and some guy dressed up like the cookie monster. There isn’t anywhere to go. There’s nowhere to go that people can get to know each other. Or if there is a place to go, you need a corporate credit card just to afford a drink. And not everybody has it like that. What about the regular people? They used to have choices too. Maybe they were bad choices, but at least they were choices. For people looking to have a good time. And to forget about things. And to be less lonely for a second. Sure, New York is more family friendly now, but not everyone has a family.”
The Tanqueray Trust: https://bit.ly/2ZUjifW