How long have you been at your job? 2 years? 5 years? Ok maybe you’re in the double digits, say ten to fifteen? These days that may qualify you as a lifer. By that definition, Camille Petty is a lifer several times over, as the head nurse on the children’s psychiatry unit at Bellevue Hospital for 52 years.

During a day of field recordings at Bellevue Hospital, in honor of its 275th anniversary, Camille was interviewed by friend and colleague Florenna Thompson about her journey to this incredible milestone.

After graduation from Bellevue’s Nursing School came the challenge of placement for Camille. Her first choice was to be in the delivery room. ”I was meant to work in the delivery room. I was supposed to be an OB nurse. I knew the obstetrics, I could quote from it like you could quote from the bible, line and verse.”  But fate would have her elsewhere. She was assigned psychiatric ward, though being a psychiatric nurse was not her first choice.

Camille confronted her supervisor and told him, “I can’t spend my life in psychiatry, I have to be in the delivery room.” Her supervisor challenged her to stay in the child psychiatry unit for a month, and if she didn’t like it he would transfer her to the delivery room. After a few days on the unit and now more than 50 years later Camille surmises it may have been her destiny.

“I loved the children’s unit. Most of our children are African American and Latino, and I am the only African American professional on the staff.  I actually feel like I’m there to help and protect these children. Years ago our [psychiatric unit] service kept children there [on the unit] because there was no place else to go. So we really raised some of these children. It’s a special population. I don’t think they’re being taken care of the way it used be because of the third party payment. Patients can’t stay in the hospital a long time, and that’s the saddest part of all. They’re just being rushed through and I have to speak up.”

“That’s part of the reason I’m still there, even though I keep saying I have to retire. I want to sit on my porch at home, but it’s difficult to walk away.”

Her 52-year legacy lives on in the countless children she’s helped over the years. Some of Camille’s children have gone on to graduate from college, become teachers, social workers and get married, and have made a point to remember her service along the way. “Sometimes you don’t know that the little bit you do makes an impact. It’s wonderful when they get back.”

This July, in collaboration with The Brooklyn Collection, an archive dedicated to the history of Brooklyn, of the Brooklyn Public Library, StoryCorps spent one week recording the stories of people who live and work in the borough. Through storytelling, StoryCorps celebrated the history and diversity of Brooklyn and the members of its communities and…

We did it! With 24 interviews and 49 participants, we have made the first installment of what we hope to be many more, building a growing portrait of the people and life of Brooklyn.

Key partnerships included, Crown Heights Mediation Center, The Museum of Contemporary African Diasporan Art (MoCADA), New York Writers Coalition, and We Are All Brooklyn. Brooklyn community leaders, artists, activists, recent arrivals and long time residents who are parents, families, couples, colleagues, and friends shared stories of struggle, perseverance, and courage in addition to the everyday triumph of the human spirit.

As for neighborhoods, Crown Heights was well represented, plus Boerum Hill, Park Slope, Bedford Stuyvesant, Clinton-Hill, Fort Greene, Cobble Hill, Kensington, Midwood, Sheepshead Bay, Sunset Park, and Carroll Gardens. I learned more about the borough that I call home in three days than I have in 6 years.

Brooklyn Week may be over, but for those who missed the opportunity to participate, you’re in luck. We’re booking appointments for Brooklyn residents (oh, and everyone else) at our state-of-the-art StoryBooth in Foley Square in Lower Manhattan. We look forward to seeing you there!

Forty minutes is not enough time to cram an entire person’s life into. Don’t even try. StoryCorps has more than 100 Great Questions for you to choose from, but over the course of the 40 minute conversation you may only get to an handful.   When I tell participants they have 10 minutes left their eyes pop in disbelief because time has flown.  It’s like the StoryBooth is a time machine where once you enter real time stands still – not true, it flies. So what does one do under these circumstances? Book another appointment!

That’s exactly what Ruth Hunt did.  Over the course of 3 appointments she talked about finding her estranged brother, her career as fashion model, and her work with the Jackie Robinson Foundation. During her first visit Ruth came in by herself, unsure of the process, but with a sense of purpose.  She was determined to tell the story of being reunited with a brother after 50 years of separation.  Her father, a WWII vet, had a child while stationed in London who he’d become separated from until Ruth found him and reunited the two.  Ruth came back a second time to share her experience as one of the first Black models to work in the Garment District. She modeled for Harry Keiser, who made bridal gowns and evening wear.  When Hunt decided to leave the high-heeled world of fashion behind she began a career with The Jackie Robinson Foundation working closely with Jackie’s wife, Rachel Robinson, to raise money to help educate minority students.  After the interviews, participants tend to be all chatter, gently kicking themselves for the gems and pearls they left behind.  Ruth was no different; she still had more story to tell.  She informed us that she was one of few African American women to be a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR).  Both my partner and I looked at each other in shock.  We implored Ruth to come back and tell us more.  So much history stored in one person!

Now Ruth works for Bellevue Hospital as Director of Community Affairs, and after having such a great time preserving her own stories at our StoryBooth, she decided to bring the StoryCorps experience to the Bellevue community to help commemorate its 275th anniversary.  We’re looking forward to hearing their stories, too.

I’m constantly surprised by participants. Ideally, as a StoryCorps facilitator you throw all presumptions out the window. But we’re human, so when Brad Kimbrough, 31, and Bill McLaren, 67, arrived at the StoryBooth, reflexively I thought, “Ok, father-son, or perhaps (forgive me Bill) grandfather-grandson.” Neither turned out to be true. Bill and Brad are best friends.

Introduced by a mutual friend, Bill and Brad initially bonded over their love of the television show Battlestar Galactica and it evolved into a friendly barter system. Brad wanted to learn how to cook and Bill “couldn’t do a thing with computers.”

When Bill had a bad fall and injured himself, Brad didn’t hesitate. Bill recalls the common refrain of friends and relatives. “People would say if you need anything call us. But I’m not gonna call.  You (Brad) didn’t say that. You said ‘who’s taking care of you?’ I said, ‘I’m ok.’ But you said ‘I’ll be out at two o’ clock’ and got on the train. You didn’t say if you need anything call. You knew I needed things.”

It was a moment that helped cement an already strong bond. Brad had just lost his job and was starting a new relationship. Bill was there to guide him. It was this kind of presence and support that comes to define their relationship.

“I like the fact that you do things on the spur of the moment,” says Bill. “At my age so many of my friends, if I said lets go walk around lower Manhattan, they’d say ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I hate going to the city because you can’t park’ and I like to do things. Because you’re so much younger you get me to do things that I never would have done. Like going to Comic-Con.”

“Yeah that was fun. You got to meet the girls from Battlestar.” Brad recalls.

Brad appreciates Bill’s accessibility in an increasingly time-challenged, self-interested world. “I hope I don’t take the connection for granted. It’s like an A-plus connection that we have. So many people are thinking about themselves and their over-scheduled lives. So many people don’t answer my calls or emails.”

Bill defers to his growing up in a bygone era. “It doesn’t occur to me that you don’t have to pick up a phone that rings. If somebody calls you, there’s something they want to say to you. I’ve never not picked up for somebody I knew. It’s like when a friend rings your door bell. You open it.”

Best friends Victoria Hyde and Lorraine “Stormy” Johnson recently got together at the Macon Branch of the Brooklyn Public Library to talk about their friendship.

They met when Lorraine was in her husband Al’s band.  “You didn’t like me”, quips Lorraine. “You thought I was frumpy. ” Victoria laughs. “I didn’t dislike you.  I just thought you were boring!”  Once they started talking they never stopped.  They shared similar family stories, growing up with their grandmothers in Jamaica just one parish apart.

They both wound up in the Bedford Stuyvesant neighborhood in Brooklyn, NY, and started families, but in July of 2006 tragedy struck.  Vicki’s house was destroyed by fire, all except her collection of teapots. Devastated, she remembers being comforted by her youngest son Shawnell Hyde who had adopted the role of family protector. He said, “You know what I like about you? Sometimes I look at you and I think you’re really a millionaire rich lady doing undercover work in the ghetto.” Vicki laughed. Five days later Shawnelle was shot and killed after a neighborhood barbecue. She recalls the complexity of their loving relationship, “we had a very awkward relationship. He loved me to death and we disagreed to death.”

At the wake, Vicki recalls the pivotal moment when she knew that Stormy was qualified to be her best friend. “When my son was killed, everybody else gives you a card and their condolences, and you gave me a teapot.  Because you knew that would make me smile.  Nobody else knew to do that.”

Why a teapot? Lorraine explains Vicki’s fascination with teapots and tea etiquette. “You serve tea, it soothes something. We talk around tea, it heals something. I knew she loved tea and teapots.  I figured it would make a difference.”

Eric Wiberg walked into the New York StoryBooth without an interview partner. Looking back on it, I’m not sure anyone could have kept up with him.

A former captain of vessels who has literally been around the world four times over, Eric shared hard-won memories of his life out at sea. There was the time he made $59 for six months’ out at sea. And the time he was stuck on the same boat as a septuagenarian nudist and an out-of-control captain. Nothing however could top the time a shark nearly ate him alive.

Eric was about 40 feet underwater when his crew mates on the deck of his ship started pointing down. That’s when he saw a shark shooting straight up at him, mouth open and teeth bared. Eric had to decide between trying to swim back to the surface or fighting back against the shark on its home turf. An accomplished swimmer, he decided to make a break for the boat. Somehow, he made it up the boat’s ladder  and onto the deck before the shark could close the gap. A moment later, the shark ripped off a chunk of the ladder he had just climbed. That was one of the six shark attacks Eric has survived.

Eric doesn’t live out at sea anymore though. He has a suit and tie job now, as well as a wife and child he loves dearly. He says he still feels the sea call out to him sometimes, but that he now knows where his real home is.

Former StoryCorps Facilitator and Pat Estess and her husband Gene Estess came to the StoryBooth in Foley Square to talk about  Gene’s remarkable metamorphosis over the years.

“Early on I was a very spoiled child. I grew up with a mother and father who were very generous.  My father was orphaned at a young age and wanted to give me everything that he never had.  My mother came from opulence – opulent for Iowa.  Which gave me a slanted view of what life should be.  I went (to school) with sort of an attitude. An attitude that I was better than, that I could get away with anything – and did.”

It was in Gene’s special relationship with is grandfather where his transformation began. “As a young man I was in business with my father, and my grandfather would jump into my office at will.  He was someone I could share my feelings with.  He became the light of my life, (and) he had a very generous soul.  When his children used to come to him and say, ‘Dad, I want to go to the movies tonight and I need a nickel’ he would reach in his pocket and pull out a whole bunch of change and say ‘take what you want’.  I got a flavor from him of giving and sharing.  He gave to the community, he acted as their guarantor to banks.  A lot of people were beholden to him.  It’s not that he was the richest man in the world.  It was that his word was his bond.”

Despite his grandfather’s influence, Gene still had some growing up to do. “I happened to be at the Rock Island train station with my aunt Harriet.  She heard me say something derogatory to one of the red caps and said, ‘How dare you speak to another human being that way.’  Having Harriet, who I really did admire, speak to me that way in that tone of voice brought me up short and was sort of the forerunner for what I ended up being.  That was certainly a turning point.”

After college and a stint working for his father, Gene moved to New York to start a career on Wall Street.  He found the work unsatisfying, and with Pat’s support and encouragement began for a search for a new career path.

One day while walking through Grand Central Station he and Pat noticed a woman with a black poodle dog chained around her waist.  The next night when Gene went to the station to pick up Pat, he saw the same woman. Gene introduced himself and discovered that her name was Patricia, her dog’s name was Ebony, and they were homeless. “She became such a part of my heart, she became the start of the car so to speak.” For the next few months Gene gave her enough money for housing.  But the chance meeting would lead Gene to connect to the Jericho Project organization which provides permanent housing and rehabilitation for addicted men and women.  The project’s mission made an impression, enough for Gene to rededicate his life to it. Gene served as its Executive Director for 20 years.  On finding his calling, Gene says, “The first day it fit me like a glove.  I had no background in social services, but I believed in it.  I saw the efforts that went in it and saw what came out the other end, and that was people (the homeless) who really had it together.”

“I can remember coming to the kids and saying ‘I’m leaving Wall Street and I’m going into the social services.’” Out of all of them, only their youngest questioned it concerned whether or not she would be able finish college.  Gene and Pat vowed she would, and Gene never looked back.  Perhaps the greatest testament to Gene’s courageous change of heart and career lies within his legacy, all his children consider him an inspiration and all have chosen careers at non-profits.

]]> http://storycorps.org/blog/storybooths/new-york-new-york/from-wall-street-to-working-for-the-homeless/feed/ 1 http://storycorps.org/blog/storybooths/new-york-new-york/that-was-so-last-year/ http://storycorps.org/blog/storybooths/new-york-new-york/that-was-so-last-year/#comments Wed, 26 Jan 2011 21:46:59 +0000 John http://storycorps.org/blog/?p=3916

Is it too late to talk about 2010? Been feeling nostalgic for the good ‘ol days. Here’s a test. If you’re still find yourself saying “Happy New Year” then 2010 can’t be all that far behind.

2010 was a great year for the New York StoryBooth Department. There were so many great interviews. We welcomed over a thousand participants, partnered with some fantastic community organizations, recorded  hundreds of stories, wept through several boxes of tissues, and withstood one mighty blizzard. Here are just some of the highlights over the course of 2010.

In February we collaborated with MoCADA’s Gentrification of Brooklyn Exhibition which culminated into a new Sound Installation using StoryCorps interviews from the exhibition’s artists. Last summer we celebrated Gay Pride month with a party right in our own backyard at the StoryCorps headquarters. In the fall, we recognized the year-long accomplishments of the Historias Initiative at a listening event at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, staged our first live interview in collaboration with Urban Bush Women, and completed a full week of interviews on location in the Bronx at Hostos Community College. All in all a great year.

We’re looking forward to welcoming new and diverse participants and partnerships in 2011. Happy New Year!

Kicking off Hispanic Heritage month, StoryCorps Historias celebrated it’s one-year anniversary at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in New York City’s East Village.  The ceremonies began with an introduction by StoryCorps founder Dave Isay, and Historias Coordinator, Gabriel Higueras spoke of the the initiative’s remarkable achievement.

“We launched the Historias Initiative in Washington DC in September 2009, with the goal of recording 700 interviews.  The response from community organizations and individuals was phenomenal – people want to be heard, people want to be counted – and this has nothing to do with the census.  Within one year, we recorded 1400 stories of Latinos, and StoryCorps Historias now stands as the largest single collection of Latino oral histories in the country.  We recorded in over 40 cities and partnered with LatinoUSA, the Latino Public Radio Consortium, the US Latino and Latina WWII Oral History Project, and 150 other organizations.  We leave local and regional archives of these recordings with educational and cultural institutions to add to their resources for preserving and promoting Latino history and culture.”

There were poetry readings and  testimonials from local Historias Alumni, like husband and wife Miriam Cruz-Colon and Oscar Cruz, Dr. Carlos Sanabria, Chair of Humanities Department and Coordinator of the Latin American Studies Program at Hostos Community College, founder of Poetas con Cafe and community activist, Roger Caban, distinguished professor and author, Dr. Clara Rodriguez, spoken word artist, Emmanuel Xavier,  poet and playwright, Frank Perez, one of the original Nuyorican Movement founders, Jesus “Papoleto” Melendez and Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe  founder and poet Miguel Algarin.  Along with the stories played from StoryCorps’ archive and the inspirational ambiance provided by the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe, the evening felt like a true celebration of the power of the spoken word.

Two Urban Bush Women Jana La Sorte and Pia Murray visited the booth this past month and spoke about their early inspirations as dancers and the philosophies that compel their work. Urban Bush Women is a dance company that seeks to bring the untold and under-told histories and stories of disenfranchised people to light through dance.

“Here in New York people seem to be afraid to unlock themselves.  You can see it in people. People outside of dance, don’t seem to understand how simple it  is.  If you move your body it moves the rest of you”, says La Sorte.

“For myself as a dancer and a mover, I strongly believe if you can walk you can dance.  I think that we all have natural and innate rhythm within us.  But because we have this world of “being a dancer”  for most people who are not in that world, they think that dance is completely inaccessible to them, that it’s something they can only watch from afar and not participate in.  I think that dancing and being comfortable really unlocks something inside of you.  I’m constantly moving and I’m comfortable doing that” says Murray.

La Sorte sees the body as a race car.  “That’s my hope with Being Bushified our monthly series,  bring in people who think I can’t dance, or I’m heavy so I can’t move, or I have diabetes, and make them understand that absolutely you can move. First of all you moved to get here.  If you start thinking of your body as a race car, as your vehicle to move through life then you’ ll want to start to change the fuel you put in it. You’ll want to move it more. Urban Bush Women validates the individual, which gets to the idea stop judging yourself, stop judging whether you can dance and stop judging what’s good dance just show us you.  That’s some of our power as Urban Bush Women, whether we’re on stage or not, we’re bold we’re able to put ourselves out there.  So many people are hiding in their bodies and they can’t show who they are.”

So the challenge seems clear to all who think their feet might fail them, doesn’t matter whether you can pop, lock, electric slide, two-step, break, hustle, smurf, do running man or the funky chicken, Murray and La Sorte believe if you can walk you can dance.  So….

Click here to view the embedded video.