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From PRX, this is the Moth Radio Hour.I'm your host, Jody Powell.
I came across an image recently with a school of fish heading downstream towards what seemed like calmer waters and in the middle there was one fish who was going against the current upstream.
The journey required a bit more effort and our friend was alone but still traveling onwards.
That fish got me thinking about stories, where people will themselves to go in a different direction, or try something new, or maybe learn a lesson the hard way.They risk hearing the words, I told you so, but hope at least to say, I did it my way.
So in this episode, stories of swimming against the current. Our first story comes from Jameer Pond.Jameer told this at our Play It Again Slam, a night where we celebrate stories we've heard, loved, and wanted you to hear, too.
This was told in New York City, where WNYC is a media partner of the month.Here's Jameer.
Hey, y'all.How you doing?It's the first week of college at Lincoln University in Pennsylvania. And I'm standing in the student union building, and my eyes are locked on a flyer on the wall.
The flyer has a microphone on it, and in big black bold letters, it says, sign up for the Dumb Whack Talent Show.And I say, hell yes.Why wouldn't I, right?I'm looking at the time for some popularity.
I wanted all of the clout, and I knew that this would be my first step forward.Plus, I would get to be crowned King of Comedy at Lincoln University.I was a stand-up comedian at the time for three years.
I first graced the stage at 14 years old in a program sponsored by the Gotham Comedy Club called Kids and Comedy.And I wasn't real popular in high school. But on that stage, that was like my safe haven, where I could be the most comfortable and free.
From 14 to 17, I developed this tight 10-minute act that was destroying rooms all over New York City.
Now, I can't remember all of my jokes, but I definitely remember one being about my mom throwing big words at me that I didn't understand and arguments. She was like, Jameer, you are monopolizing the phone, Jameer.You are monopolizing the phone.
I didn't understand what Mr. Monopoly had to do with using a house phone, but I was pissed. And my favorite joke that I remember was like my opening joke.It was the one that set everything off.
And it had to do with teenage dating and just dating girls at the time who had no boo taste while I had McDonald's pockets.And so this was like a natural progression for me.This would be my first road show.
So I signed up for the Dumb Whack Talent Show. Now, it was about a week out, so I didn't have a lot of time to promote, so I told a whole bunch of my newfound friends and my crush at the time.
I called her Lavender because she looked like an older version of Lavender from Matilda.
Big glasses, freckles, brown skin, beautiful smile, and when she said, yes, I will attend, I said, of course you will, because who's going to stand next to me while I get coronated the king of comedy at Lincoln University?
As you can tell, I was pretty confident.The only thing I was really worried about was what I was going to wear.All my favorite comedians were fly, but they all wore leather.
Eddie Murphy, Martin Lawrence, Chris Rock, all well-groomed men who wore leather, and I didn't have leather money. So I had to makeshift what I had.So the night of the show, I'm walking down to the student union, I'm sorry, not walking, strutting.
I'm strutting down to the student union building in my crisp white polo shirt with blue stripes on it, some real dark denim jeans, and my white and blue patent leather Air Force Ones.I was clean, y'all.Thank you, okay. Y'all so gracious.
I didn't have probably the cologne or smell goods that they had, but I did have my dad's half-used bottle of Jupe.And I sprayed that in the air.So now I'm clean, confident, and smelling like a 58-year-old divorcee.I was ready.
I get to the backstage of the sub where all the talent is, and there's a camera crew from the local Lincoln television station.And they asked if they can interview me.And I said, sure.And I gave my introduction.I'm Jameer Pond.
I'm from Brooklyn, New York.I'm a stand-up comedian.And I'm going to be famous one day, and I'm going to make Lincoln a lot of money.And the girl behind the camera was like, oh, OK, excuse me.And I said, you excuse?
The confidence had kind of teetered over the cocky, but I said what I said and I stood on it.Finally, the emcee of the show calls my name.He said, we got Jameer Pond coming up next.
He gonna do a little comedy for y'all, you know, give a round of applause.And as I'm walking up the stairs, I hear a scattered round of applause and I stand on stage and the first thing I noticed, it is really bright in here.
Now, usually, I'm doing clubs and venues like this where I could barely see my hands.At this point in the student union building, I'm seeing over 300-plus black people faces, and they all had the same, you-better-be-funny face.
I was slightly nervous.I can't lie.But when I looked over to the right, I saw my friends that I had asked to come, and I saw Lavender.And she gave me a thumbs-up and mouth. And I said, thank you, Po.And that's all I needed.
I grabbed the microphone confidently.I placed the mic stand behind me, and I proceeded with my joke.Here's my joke face.Okay.Hey.Hey, y'all.You know, dating's really tough.Dating's really tough.
I'm from Brooklyn, New York, and I had a girl come up to me and say, Jameer, if you want to date me, you got to pay for my hair, pay for my nails, and buy me some jewelry. I looked at her like she was crazy.Now here's the punchline.
I got $2.50 in my pocket.You better decide whether you want cheese on your burger or not.And the room was more silent than this. I had to check the microphone to see if it was on because usually when I get to $2.50, people are holding their sides.
But as I'm looking at the 300 plus black people faces, they are all blank and kind of looking at me like, where are the jokes?I'm standing on stage in silence.It felt like the longest time ever.
Finally, a gentleman stands up in the middle of the crowd.We lock eyes.He looks at me and leans in and says, boo!And sits back down.It's like a dagger hit my chest.I had never been booed before, let alone single booed.
Suddenly, droves of people begin to boo my soul out my body.Now, it's bad enough to get booed.It's even worse when you gotta look your boo-ies in the eye.I'll never forget this girl, Dominique.I had math class with her.
I will never forget her hands clasped up against her mouth, yelling, boo!You suck! We was just doing A squared plus B squared plus C squared together.I look over at Lavender and she no longer has one.
The winning smile or the thumbs up is more like, yeesh.I don't know if I want to be around for this coronation of this king. I was too nervous, because I had never been booed before, to start any jokes up.
I stood on stage and watched people actively boo me, until I finally got sick and tired of it and I ran off stage.I know, right?
As I'm running through the building, I'm thinking, I hope I don't run into that camera crew again, because I'm sure they got some questions for me.
I ran all the way back to my dorm, depressed, embarrassed, hurt, and still smelling like a 58-year-old divorcee who lost everything at this point now.I just got a cat with me now.
And I stayed in my room for three days because I wanted to evade the barrage of those constant boos that I still had in my head.And finally, I left my room.Not because I wanted to, but because I had class.It was Monday.
I still had 3.998 years left on campus.And I got the popularity I wanted.Oh yeah, I sure did. For the rest of the semester, people would hurl insults using the line cheeseburger at the end to talk about me.Hey, there go that cheeseburger, boy.
Ain't nothing funny about boy.I'm like, I'm right here, y'all.I can hear and see y'all.Talk about me.I no longer wanted the big clout.I found a crew of people who I finally settled down and just became one of the guys, you know?
Two years later, Lavender and I finally did date.She had to let the stink off of me.Getting booed took two years, y'all.But I just, I learned from that, like, not to take my gift for granted.
Like, I was cocky, and because I had done these amazing things in New York, I didn't read my audience.I didn't take the time to put the craft in, and I reap what I sow.
But the biggest lesson that I walk away with and I give to y'all is that if you ever see a show of talent that has the words dumb or whack in them, turn the other way.Thank you.
That was Jameer Pond.Jameer is a New York-based live and visual storyteller and creative video director for Vanity Fair. Jameer kindly took some time to chat with me about the world of comedy and how he looked back at that moment on stage.
How did you kind of bounce back from that?Maybe there's time, maybe there are other elements that you apply, probably whenever you go to a stage again, but like, how do you bounce back when you kind of just like fall and completely, completely flat?
All right, well, this was catastrophic. And this might be possibly the worst thing you go through in terms of being on stage.And now look at that and go, OK, well, if that's one of the worst, you already got it out early.
And I will say, while I stopped doing stand-up traditionally at Lincoln University, over the years, I started becoming host for events.And I started to become a part of the radio station. And I got my outlet out in different ways.
Even though I was a little embarrassed to do stand-up again, I was able to still connect with people in similar ways.A lot less pressure too.
Wonderful, wonderful.So it seemed like the big lesson, your big takeaway from that moment is that when you go on stage, mattering not what you're doing, you have to prepare.
Whether it's story or stand-up or whatever else it is.
How do you prepare for the stage now?
I'll practice out loud, I'll say lines, I'll put together ideas in my home and then come on to the stage.We're like, all right, you know what, let's shift this here and put this here.It's like a lot of editing, self-editing in my head.
And so I'll write down like concept and ideas, but then like really just internalize it and bring it to the stage.
Got it.In the story, your fit, your outfit, how you looked was super, super important, right?Is it as important now on the storytelling stage?And if so, what is your get up?What do you put on when you go on stage?
You know what?It's actually, like, I spend a lot less time planning, like, what I'm going to look like on stage, which, you know, I'm thankful because I got a pretty decent closet.I like fly things.But I like to be comfortable on stage.
If you could do it all again, right?Do you have another joke in your back pocket or would you kind of bust out in a story?Would you have changed your role rather than on stage?
What would you have done differently besides obviously prepare differently?
Yeah.I think in hindsight, looking how everything turned out, I wouldn't do a thing differently.But I will say one thing that I did learn from that experience is to always read the room.
to always look at who's in the audience, how they're reacting to certain things.How hard do I have to go above and beyond?And that really helps me assess my own energy and how I approach it.Got it.Awesome.
Thank you so much, Jodi.Appreciate you.I appreciate you.
That was Jameer Pond.After the break, a young girl's idea of who an idol is changes.That's when the Moth Radio Hour continues.
The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX.
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This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX.I'm Jody Powell.In this hour, we're hearing stories of going by your own rules.Next up is Sristi Karki.Sristi told this story at our Moths Education Showcase held at the Culture Lab in Queens.Here's Sristi.
Ever since I was a child, I had to write essays about my idols, and I would always write about these powerful Nepali women, like Pasang Lamu Sherpa or Anuradha Koirala, women who have achieved heroic feats like climbing the Mount Everest or tackling human trafficking.
And I would always see my friends write about their aunts, their grandmas, or their moms. But to me, my mom was just an ordinary woman.My mom is a middle school teacher to underprivileged kids, so it didn't help that we had the exact same schedule.
We often woke up at the same time, we went to school at the same time, we came back home at the same time.
Ironically, she spent her evenings in clubs like JC's or the Lions Club International, clubs that dedicate their time and resources towards social work.But because I never got to see her work firsthand, I didn't view her as exceptional.
Hey, maybe I was a bit jealous.My mom spent her entire day with other kids in her school and her entire evenings with friends at clubs. Anyway, one day, she asked my dad to teach her how to drive, which was unexpected.
Living in a small valley in Nepal, women in our community didn't drive.None of her friends drove.Some drove scooters, but never a car. My dad was a businessman who spent 12 to 14 hours a day working.And when he heard about this, he was ecstatic.
The women in my mom's generation were the first to start working, but their motivations never really extended towards driving.So I was so surprised to see my dad being so supportive.
But my dad was the kind of man that said, if you want to learn how to swim, just jump into the river.And that's exactly what he did.He took my mom directly to the road.And she did not like it.So she took matters into her own hands.
not wanting to start her journey in the midst of a busy road, she started to take the car out in the afternoons, in these small alleys or dead ends, driving back and forth every day, until she felt confident enough.
I used to watch her drive from our balcony. And seeing her relentless effort, I really wanted her to learn.
But then I would see her stumble every time there would be a person or like a motorcycle trying to pass by in a tiny road that barely fit her car.But when she was confident enough, she took me and my sister on a long drive.
Sitting in the passenger seat, strapping my seatbelt, I sat there like a hawk, making sure she's not tailgating, checking the side mirrors, turning my head every so often to check the blind spots.
But that's when I noticed her unwavering attention to the road.Balancing the brakes, claws, and accelerator, she was driving so smoothly.
In a city free of traffic lights, traffic signals, or zebra crossings, amidst a busy road, she was navigating beautifully.I felt so proud seeing my mom break cultural barriers with something as simple as driving.
That's when I asked her what motivated her to drive all of a sudden, and she replied that she wanted to make more time for us. Because Dad was always busy, going out meant he would have to drop us off in the morning and pick us up late at night.
Or sometimes he would leave at 9 p.m., an hour before closing.So her driving would give us the freedom to plan outings on our convenience.And that meant everything to me.Not only was she breaking generational barriers, she was doing so for us.
but the first time driving was only one of many.
In the upcoming weeks, we went on shopping sprees, we went to eat out, and within months, there weren't any significant monuments, be it hills, the rivers, the lakes, the temples, that we hadn't ventured.
And we made sure to include our three aunts and seven little cousins.All of us, compact, in one single car.
We would visit our relatives, ones that we often didn't get to see, sometimes because of the different schedules, and sometimes just the distances.
My life became a vibrant mosaic, incomplete without all these people that I never imagined would be important to me one day.Ever since then, I've taken the time to look more into her work.Teaching middle school students is not an easy job.
After eight hours of work, putting oneself out there to build community is remarkable.My mom has redefined heroism for me.
It isn't the intent to achieve the improbable that makes you a hero, but the way you can improve the lives of others at any scale. With something as simple as driving, my mom was able to lift restrictions for me and my sister.
What was so hard for us is so achievable.It's just a mere skill for us.Years later, we moved from Nepal to America, and my mom was the first to go to the DMV and get her license, even before my father.
She was the first to drive us to the city, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, the iconic skyline, the tall buildings illuminated in the nightlight, and seeing my mom drive in the city of dreams.
I felt the same joy and pride I had felt the first time she took us on a drive. So looking back, even though I never wrote essays about my mom as a child, I will share her story as my idol every chance I get.Thank you.
That was Srishti Karki.Srishti is a high school senior living in Queens, New York.We met Srishti in our Summer Moth Story Lab program in partnership with Apex for Youth, South Asian Youth Action, and Woodside on the Move.
Srishti just got her learner's permit and is also learning to drive. The night Srishti told the story, her mom was in the audience, and the audience gave her a huge round of applause.
Srishti said her mother was very emotional after the education showcase and told her that she wasn't aware that her daughter had been observing her learning process.
Srishti said, my mom did not think I would be interested as I was pretty young, but she was really happy hearing me recite the details. To see some photos of Sristi and her family, head over to themoth.org.
Our next story is told by Shannon Scarsaletta.Shannon told this at a New York City Story Slam.
So the summer before my sixth grade, I received a letter from my new middle school that said that the way that my middle school was going to let us, like the new class was all getting to know each other, get to know each other, was to have us do a ropes course together, like an obstacles course.
I was psyched because this was a new group of people and I wanted to be one of the popular girls and I wanted like a hot middle school boyfriend and I knew this was my chance because there is nothing that gets you in with the popular kids more than complete and total physical domination of your classmates.
Right?So I was pretty certain that that was within my wheelhouse.Because usually, at this point in the story, I would probably tell you something like, I wasn't always the 6 foot, 180 pound, size 10, 36D goddess standing before you right now.
But I stopped growing when I was 11.So I was always the 6 foot, 36D, 180-pound goddess standing in front of you today.Yeah.And just to let that sink in, I, at 11 years old, was taller than your dad.That's true.
And so I looked exactly like how I do now, except I had this short Meg Ryan cropped little haircut, which my mom said was cute.But that's not usually a word you associate with a six-foot 11-year-old.
It's more of a word like haunting or teacher, which, by the way, my classmates thought I was on that first day at that obstacle course.In fact, one of the boys in my class came up to me and handed me a note from his parents.
Which is true, but it was okay because he was the hottest boy I have ever seen.His name was Matt Felser and he had spiky gelled hair, like remember that?Like where it went forward and then straight up.
He had like that forward straight up hair and he had a puka shell necklace on and he was like four foot five inches of sexy fifth grade, sixth grade goodness.And I was like, I am here for this.
And we totally vibed once it was clear that I was 11 as well.And so the race started.And oh, and by the way, it turned out that Matt was on my team.
So I was like, oh my God, this is my moment to show my sheer physical dominance because there's nothing that middle school boys find more attractive than being emasculated on a field of battle.So, So the gun went off, or probably a whistle.
In my mind, it was a gun.And I started, and I was high-kneeing through the tires, and I was army-crawling, marine-crawling through the field.
And I was literally 20 feet ahead of any one of my teammates at this point, which was great, because all the middle school boys who were behind me clearly had a wonderful view of my butt.
And I was like, yes, they're definitely fighting over me, but I'm going to stay with Matt because that was my first love.So it's totally okay.So I was kicking ass through this whole thing up until the final obstacle.
And the final obstacle was a wall.And for those of you who don't speak obstacle course, what this looks like is there's an eight-foot wall in front of you.
And the object of the obstacle is for everyone on one side of your team to work together and collaborate to get every single person over the wall to the other side.Now, here's the thing.
I get up to the wall and I notice that all my tiny little classmates are trying to get over this wall.And I'm like, oh, my God.
Got this so I'm like I'm like get over Matt and I'm like and I like throw him on over and I'm like Come on, Adam and like Adam goes over and like Phil goes over and I'm like Like Marissa go and like Marissa just flew over and I'm like I got this and I got everyone over the wall And then I am the last one
on the other side of the wall.And the object at this point of the exercise is for the people on top of the wall to hoist the last person up over that wall.And I am looking up at a group of 70-pound children with arms like paper bags.
And I'm like, there's no way in hell this is going to happen.And I froze. And I totally froze.And the reason I froze was not just because the physical improbability of me getting over that wall, but also because I was feeling a brand new feeling.
And that was the first time in my life that I felt a feeling that I would feel every time I would hear the word butch, or every time I would hear the word monster, or every time I would hear the word giraffe.
in middle school and high school and into college and that feeling was shame.I was feeling shame in my body for being the person who was too big to do the obstacle course.
Now the good thing about being Shannon Scarsaletta is that I feel no feeling stronger than the need to win.
I noticed that the competing teams were starting to do that weird monkey barrel thing where they were somehow getting their tiny bodies over this thing and I was like, you know what, I have to fucking do this.
So I took a few steps back and I did have Air Jordans on.I just want you to know that. So I took a few steps back and a couple of running leaps and hurled my body onto this eight-foot wall.
And somehow these tiny little boys whose arms were like the equivalent of like, you know, the like outside the car dealership people, like somehow they like grabbed me long enough that I could grasp my giant hands over the top of this board.
And I hoisted my own body weight above this thing like the tiny marine I was. And I got myself to the other side of that wall.And my team won.My team won.Yeah.
And I mean, I wish I could tell you that, like, that was a day I, like, never felt worse about my body again.But I do want to say that I love my body.And I love it not despite, but because of how powerful I am.
And my six foot eight husband loves this big ass body as well.And in fact, the moment he fell in love with me was when he watched me play division one basketball, sweating my ass off against the Harvard women's basketball team.
So I was onto something as a sixth grader.
That was Shannon Scarsaletta.Shannon is an executive coach, storyteller, and improv comedian.She lives in Houston, Texas with her very tall family, including her wonderful husband, Michael, and two beautiful kids, Louis and Carmen.
I asked her if she had any updates.She said, nope, still tall. In a moment, a storyteller brings us along to some special outings with some fabulous outfits.That's when the Moth Radio Hour continues.
The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts and presented by The Public Radio Exchange, PRX.org.
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This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX.I'm Jody Powell.In this episode, we've been listening to stories of going against the grain and doing things a little or a lot differently.
Our final story comes from Gina Belafonte, who first came to us via the community workshop we did with Daughters of the Movement.
Gina went on to tell the story at our main stage at the Theater at the Ace Hotel in Los Angeles, where we partnered with Public Radio Station KCRW.Here's Gina Belafonte.
Growing up in New York City in the 1960s and 70s, Upper West Side, the liberal Mecca of Manhattan, my parents would organize meetings and throw parties that would go on way past my bedtime.
I can still hear the hushed tones and the bursts of laughter from my father coming from the living room and the sound of the rhythm of the click in my mother's ankle as she would walk down the very long hallway past my bedroom into hers, ice clinking in the glass of her cocktail.
I knew big things were going on down the hall and I so wanted to be a part of them. You see, my parents were very busy people.They were two of many strategists, architects, and funders of the 1960s civil rights movement.
And they were both accomplished, accomplished artists in their own right.And they were super busy.They were going out all the time or entertaining at home.And in preparation for these events, I would quietly, so as not to disturb her,
tiptoe into my parents' brown, wallpapered bathroom, covered in mirrors, and just perch myself on the bidet.I would just stare up at my mom in raptured fascination as she would put on her face, as she would call it.
I watched her as she smoked her Philip Morris filtered cigarettes in between makeup applications and sipped her, at that time, scotch on the rocks.
I studied as she took the black Maybelline eyebrow pencil and made that perfectly curved arch and perfect eyeliner and wings and the L'Oreal burgundy lip liner that she would etch the borders of her mouth and fill in with that frosted, beautiful pink.
Perfection.I just adored her.She was the most beautiful and fascinating woman in the world to me.And these were stolen moments for me.Because my mom was busy.She was living that big life.
I mean, she got written up in a magazine saying that she was one of the best dressed women of Manhattan.And you can imagine going out two to three times a week puts a heavy burden on a wardrobe. But she would gift me some of these clothes.
And I loved it.But as a young adult, there was a few that were a little inappropriate for my age.But hey, this was the 70s, you know, women's lib and all.
And if I were going to go out with her to any of these events, she would ensure that my appearance was on par with hers.
I mean, my mother, she dressed to the nines, whether it was a tailored suit for the meeting of a head of state, or a galanos gown to a award show, or a African dashiki to a drumming circle, my mother knew exactly what to wear.
So she made sure that I looked good too.And she referred to me as her clone, which was, a title that I so cherished and wore with pride.When I was in my mid-teens, I started to investigate my own sense of style, much to my mother's chagrin.
And there was this incredible antique clothing store in my neighborhood called Jezebel's.And there were all these amazing antique dresses that just hung on the walls.I mean, this place was magic.
old piano shawls that just slumbered over the standing lamps of this heavily Killiam and Persian carpeted floor.And there were racks and racks of clothes, antique dresses, old Hawaiian shirts, wide-legged khaki pants from the 40s.
And this all became my new sense of style, sort of this bohemian chic.And I remember coming home one day after hanging out with my friends, and my mother greeted me at the door, now vodka in hand.It was 5 o'clock somewhere.
And she took one look at me, and she said, what are you wearing? in a very poor attempt at trying to defend my new sense of style.She interrupted me and she said, this just must be a phase.And off she walked down that long hallway.A phase?
I was devastated, coming from one of the best-dressed women in Manhattan.I mean, this really took me out.I was in a crisis.It was traumatizing.I, later on, was introduced to a spiritual practice.Because, you see, my parents had been
doing Freudian therapy for about 40 years at this point.And I knew that I needed other sensibilities to help me navigate through this ongoing search for identity.So I was introduced to the path work.
And the path work was about, it's about responsibility, and it's about accountability.And at first, I was a little scared.
I could hear my mother in my head going, ugh, you're not going to come home with a peach sheet wrapped around you slinging finger symbols, are you?And of course, she didn't say that.She would never say that.But that's what I heard in my head.
But I decided to give it a go anyway. So I'm working the practice.
And early on, as I'm starting to sort of get the flow of how to peel the onion and understand, and it was interesting because it was sort of like Freudian psychology meets spirituality.So it was like where I was coming from to where I was going.
Evening, we were on a workcation, we'll call it.My dad was performing at the Golden Nugget in Reno, and he had invited the whole family, my sisters, their husband, my brother, his significant other, my significant other at the time.
And it was like a Christmas to New Year's vacation time.And we were staying in this beautiful, massive cabin in the snowy woods of Lake Tahoe.
And we were at dinner at the house, and my father had already left for the theater, and there was a fair amount of drinking going on.
And my mother, now rum in hand, said something that so triggered me that I just got up and said, I can't take it when you drink. And we got into it.I mean, we got into, like, a staring contest.And when I say we got into it, I mean we got into it.
So we very quickly excused ourselves from the table and we went downstairs into this other, like, library den room in this cabin.And we had it out. And I said to her, you know what, I got to start creating some boundaries.
Like, I can't take it when you drink.I just can't.I don't like the criticism, the judgment.You're always talking to me about different members of the family.
I just, you know what, if we're out and you're drinking, I am going to remove myself from the premises.Well, she looked at me and she stood up and she said, you can't tell me what I can and cannot say to you.
And with whatever courage I could muster, I took a deep breath to work this newfound practice.And I looked at her and I said, oh, but I can.This was huge.I mean, I thought, oh my God, what have I done?
I've been colluding with this woman for her love since I'm a kid.We may never speak again.Well, after many years, of arguments and extremely punishing behavior, we still do talk.
But I realized when my daughter was born, I couldn't leave her alone with her grandmother.I just couldn't trust how my mother would be when she was inebriated. I didn't know what she, I mean, she would never hurt her granddaughter.She loved her.
She would never do anything on purpose.She wouldn't hurt a fly.But what I was most concerned on is about what she might say.You see, when my daughter started school, she started to dress herself.
And let's just say she was like the living embodiment of Pippi Longstocking. Yeah, no, she would get bright colors with prints and polka dots and stripes and sometimes all at once.
And I would look at her and I would hear my mother in my head and say, saying to me like, what are you wearing?And of course I wouldn't say anything because I wanted to nurture her creativity and her exploration of self.
And I would think to myself, oh, well this just must be a phase. And I knew that in those moments I was becoming the mother I always wanted to be.And that working this practice, I was in fact going to have to start to parent myself.
Well, it's been really cool now because
My daughter, who has grown into becoming a brilliant, talented, beautiful young lady with an impeccable sense of style and grace, which I would say she gets probably about 85 to 90% from her grandmother, has been so helpful to me.
You see, we have now moved my mom from her 93-year-old big life in New York City to her last chapter, but new adventure here in Los Angeles.Yeah.And I still have to work my practice.I find my patience gets tested.
But I take a deep breath, but I sometimes ask her to do something and she's like a little confused or she takes more time.And I think about that song, The Cat's in the Cradle, you know, where the kid no longer has the time for the parent.
And I just do my best to work my practice. I think about Shakespeare's monologue from As You Like It.All the world's a stage.I mean, he really got it on the nose.Because my mom really needs help with everything now.
So it is I who now takes that red Maybelline, black Maybelline eyebrow pencil, and I make that perfectly curved arch. And I take that burgundy lip liner and I etch the border of her mouth and fill it in with that frosted pink.
And it's I who now dresses her.And God has a sense of humor.She has grown very fond of tight, skinny jeans. Yeah, where she used to want to hide her skinny legs, now she wants to show them off.
And she's grown really fond of this red Yves Saint Laurent scarf that she must wear all the time.And I'm like, hey mom, come on, why don't we try a different scarf today?She's like, oh no, I want my Yves Saint Laurent scarf.
And I think to myself, well, this just must be a phase.But I realize it might be the last phase Because as the monologue says, she will slip into the last scene of all that ends this strange history, second childishness and mere oblivion.
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.So I work that practice and I take a deep breath. And I reclaim my patience.And I reclaim my raptured fascination with the most beautiful woman in the world to me, my mom.Thank you.
Gina Belafonte is an award-winning producer, director, actress, educator, prison abolitionist, and freedom activist.She is co-founder of Sankofa.org.
Gina has been using art as a tool for over 25 years to communicate messages of hope and civic engagement.
As you probably figured out, Gina is the daughter of the great American singer, actor, and civil rights activist, Harry Belafonte, who died in 2023.
Gina followed up to say that she and her mother, Julie Robinson, who eventually gave up drinking, enjoyed many years together before she died at 95 in 2024, and she was still kicking it until the very end.
You can share these stories or others from the Moth Archive and buy tickets to Moth Storytelling events in your area through our website, themoth.org.There are Moth events year-round.Find a show near you and come out and tell us a story.
And let us know what the best advice your mom ever gave you was. That's it for this episode of the Moth Radio Hour.Thank you to our storytellers for sharing with us and to you for listening.I hope you'll join us next time.
This episode of the Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, and Jody Powell, who also hosted and directed some stories in this episode.Co-producer is Vicki Merrick.Associate producer, Emily Couch.
Additional education program instruction by Nancy Ma and Arlene Chico Lugo.
The rest of the Moss Leadership Team includes Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin-Genest, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Cloutier, Leigh Ann Gulley, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Sarah Jane Johnson, and Aldi Caza.
The Moss Education Program is made possible by generous support from unlikely collaborators.
Additional program support is provided by the New York State Council on the Arts, the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, Alice Gottesman, the Cornelia T. Bailey Foundation, and Con Edison.
All Stories are True is remembered and affirmed by the storytellers.Our theme music is by The Drift.Other music in this hour from Andrew Bird, The CB3, Fearless Flyers, and Miles Davis, John Coltrane, and Bill Evans.
We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX.
For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story, and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.
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