I am a late bloomer. I taught myself to read when I was about three years old – me and Sesame Street. I always sensed in my little soul, that I had to lead my life, that I was responsible for myself. From a very early age I spent a lot of time alone while my mother slept. My parents worked very hard, and she was a nurse that worked all kinds of shift and never really seemed to get enough rest.
The first picture I ever saw of myself was a photo of me as a baby likely about four months old. In the photo I’m holding a book and on the front of that book it says, “How to Raise Parents.” I never knew what that meant until I was an adult. It turned out to be a prophecy. So that feeling that I had as a young child of having to be responsible and silent and someone who stayed invisible and out of the way and who didn’t cause trouble and did well in school—It persisted throughout my teenage life and into my 20s and 30s.
I was always a veracious learner. I was an excellent student from grade school through high school. But in my junior year of high school things changed. My father was diagnosed with cancer when I was 16 and given six months to live. I remember the day we went to the hospital to hear it straight from the doctor’s mouth. I remember the look on my father’s face as he tilted his head to one side in thought, something I do as well – and pursed his lips together. I didn’t know it then. But he was measuring his life, calculating his odds, and he was calling bull shit.
When I got my permit to drive. I immediately started helping my mom drive my dad to doctor’s appointments that lasted all day long at Edward Hines VA hospital in Maywood, IL. To do this I had to call out of school and while being out of school frequently did not hurt my ability to earn scholarships, it did something different that had a profound effect on me. Times that I could have been developing peer relationships or attending peer events that the other kids were participating in; I was busy taking care of family business. I did go on to earn 3 academic scholarships. One was in California, and it was a full ride. One was in Tennessee, and one was in Mississippi. The two in the South were 50% scholarships. I asked my parents which one they thought I should accept. In my heart, I was very mindful of finances and didn’t want to cause them any financial harm. I knew they already were doing everything they could for us. My father didn’t give an opinion. I don’t believe he wanted to sway me one way or another. But my mother being someone who was raised in the South, did have an opinion and upon her advice I accepted the scholarship to Jackson State University, an HBCU. I left home with my mom taking care of my dad and my younger sister who was 12 at the time. And while I wanted my freedom, a sensation I’d never felt before; I also understood things might be hard for them without me there.
My time in school was short-lived. I made it through one semester. While I was back home on winter break my mom suffered a massive stroke that left her paralyzed on her right side. She couldn’t drive. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t feed herself. She couldn’t do anything. Things got really tough. But I don’t regret this. There were times we really wanted to give up. Therapy was hard. Day-to-day living was hard. Navigating our house was hard. Getting her to and from doctor’s appointments was hard. But we made it. Within a year and a half, she was fully recovered.
Now my dad, who had been given a death sentence a few years prior, was still with us—Stronger than ever at times and sometimes not so good. But he lost his vision to glaucoma. While I was thinking about navigating my way back to school during a particularly bright season, my mom had another stroke and things got hard all over again. In the meantime, when I was 20, I got married and I had two awesome kids 20 months apart and there was a whirlwind of work. I finally went back to school. I was pursuing my bachelor’s degree my dad was up sometimes and down sometimes, hospitalized with surgeries caused by side effects of cobalt treatments, and my mother would go on to have three more strokes. There were times when I would call an ambulance for my mom and then have to call another ambulance for my father. There were times when my mother was in one hospital in Aurora, IL, and my father was in the hospital in Maywood, IL. There was one time when both of my parents were in the same hospital up the hall from each other neither would behave, and my dad was wheeling himself around blind trying to get to her. There were times that my dad was in the hospital and then called me to come and break him out, which I did. So many shenanigans. So much love. So much time I spent being a late bloomer. I learned things that college could not teach me. At the time I didn’t see myself as a late bloomer at all I don’t even think I felt like my life was being stunted or held back. But when I look back on it now, I see what 20-year-olds were doing and what 30-year-olds were doing in their lives during those years, and I can see that I was sort of in a holding pattern.
As society would see it, I was. But something remarkable happened to me. I learned how to manage business affairs. I worked with Senator Paul Simon’s office to get my father service-connected disability benefits he’d been denied for his Army injuries suffered in WWII. I was seventeen. I could multitask like nobody’s business. Scheduling appointments, making sure that everyone’s health was in order, making sure that the kids were where they needed to be and had what they needed to have, and my schoolwork was done, and dinner was cooked, and medicines were poured out. I learned to manage workflow, create strategies, and become creative. I became the ultimate project manager. I learned so many lessons that college could never have taught me. And I don’t regret it. I don’t regret being in that pattern. I learned selflessness. I learned how to give. I mastered patience. I learned how to manage my emotions. I learned tact. I learned when to keep my mouth shut. I learned how to be an advocate. I took some tough shots; and it was hard. But I do not regret it.
Something else happened to me when I was going through all this. I graduated and I started earning real money. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I allowed my career to go to the highest bidder. Since I had so many responsibilities it made sense to take jobs that paid the most money, so I did. Then the more money I made the more I wanted to make. I think I kind of saw myself and valued myself by how much money I made. The thing that was happening in the background, was that I was not paying any attention to my passions or to the reason that I was sent to the planet. That’s why I worked in several different fields. I worked in Fortune 500 companies in telecom. I worked in healthcare. I worked in pharmaceuticals. I worked in education. I worked in city government. And unlike those kids, who knew what they wanted to be ever since they were six years old, I had no idea what I wanted to be, so I followed the dollar. I didn’t develop a common thread among my interests, sewing together what I love, what brings me joy, and how I could earn a living. But since I’m such a late bloomer I got to learn from all different industries things I would have never been exposed to. I know a lot about a lot of things, and I know a little bit about a lot of things. So, I know a lot. That came from me doing so many different things, and that wouldn’t have happened if I went straight to college, graduated when I was 22, and went straight into my field and I am so grateful for everything I’ve been through. For all of the **** I’ve been through –the mire and murky waters. Because it has made me who I am today.
I am patient. I am kind. I am even tempered. I’ve been refined by fire. Things don’t throw me off my square. I’m not depressed. I contain joy. I’m uplifted. I see grace in every moment even if it doesn’t feel good. And I am so grateful for that.
I grew up in a garden, and at one point, I thought my dad was going to dig up the entire yard because he just kept expanding and expanding and expanding. I grew up among okra plants and squash and cucumbers and BlackBerry bushes –collard greens, tomatoes, and all kinds of things. I didn’t realize that the earth was being planted in me as I was planting in the earth. I love trees and I never could explain my affinity for them. But that love was planted in me. As I got older, I still gardened and grew our food, and I still do today. And the great thing about that is, I learned sustainability before it trended; before it became a buzzword. Through my life exposure to so much of what could have been described as sorrow, I’ve learned sustainability in my life.
I’ve learned how to apply sustainability practices in my relationships. I’ve learned how to use sustainability in my work. And now I can say that my interest in the earth, my love for this planet, and my understanding of sustainable practices, has truly launched me into a state of being supernatural. That’s why I can teach it. That’s why I can help others become so effective and so strong without the brain damage to go along with it. I had to go through a lot to get it and I’m so proud of myself for finding out who I am and standing flat-footed and immovable on my platform. And I just want to share it with other people. I am a late bloomer, and I am a great bloomer. I am a perennial bloomer who does not flower in a burst of bright color only to fade and die each season. I am a comeback kid, with flowers that blossom and burn more brilliantly each year. And I have the petals to prove it.
