My son going to school

My first parental experience didn't just start when I took him to school for the very first time, nor a week ago, not when he was 2 years old nor an infant, it started when I first found out that I was carrying a brand new soul inside of me, when I was pregnant. The strength and the courage to believe that "everything from now on will be alright", was just a phrase that I build as a safety net, for my new adventure for my role as a new mother. The idea of becoming a new mother was very frightening at first, since I didn't have a real role model of my own, but the idea to construct myself a new and while molding a new person to take healthy choices in life was and still is a delight. I am very very proud to express my joy as I walk with my son to school. I know its kinda cheesy, but I don't remember much my first experience, nor did my parents talked about my early encouragement of it either.

This is it, the first day of Wesly schooling.... how thrilling, how exciting, how... (you know what I mean)... Below are two short video of the day, his day my day...

WEZ, and who is he in my life?

A true story, one that has many meaning. Could be a fairy tale or one that is confusing; just wanted to share to the world the dude in my life. But before I begin, I wanted to tell you that he doesn't want anyone to know him, and thus his face and his identity will remain a mystery to many, especially to those that don't know me well. Lets call my dude " WEZ ".

It started off in junior high school, Roberto Clemente, which is located still on 135th street on Broadway. You can see a really tall project building that is called 3333, and under that housing project, a high school is laid. I used to go to that school way back, and so did my brothers Tomas and Jorge, not to mention my cousin Yadira the dancer and other close mutual friends of ours.
Every morning my dad drops us off to school, and every afternoon my mom picks us up. The usual routine for 4 years. During these junior high school years, and during my lunch period, I would often walk to my aunts house that wasn't far, and go there to eat my lunch, sometimes with my cousin or without. My aunt made the best Dominican dishes, mangu and charchichon con queso, or soups etc; The list is endless. Either way, on my way either to or from her apartment, I would often see some of class mates wondering the streets, looking to play hooky or scoop out where to eat. I also would see fights on the streets which were so common during the early 90's and often witness such activities.

During my Jr high school experience, I remember very clearly, one afternoon, where two classes were merged into one. I'm not sure why, but I do remember that happening from time to time. During these unique transaction, I met "WEZ". He was an average looking kid. I didn't really paid any mind to him, as I did with other guys. He told me that " I asked you to draw me a picture, and you did one very quickly, you created a face being punched by a glove, full impact, and you did it with a pink pen" He thought that was cool. He told me that he kept it for a long time, until it was lost within the passing of the years.

Dang I honesty didn't remember that at all. I do remember a lot of class mate asking me to make them something, I usually did, so did my brothers. It was fun, and why not? right?

The turning point: meant to be or not?
After junior high school, I then entered La Guardia High school of Performace and the Arts, in lower Manhattan. Four years of that, martial art, and after school art programs was my regiment. My days ran together and fast. Condensing the this story a bit: After High school, I then was lost as to either enrolling to a college ( which I didn't know how to) or just wonder the world working part time at some retail store as I did during the summer. Art, as I was told, wasn't a career choice that I should invest. That made my heart weak and sour, but my parents never gave up on me. A chance was given, a scholarship to enroll at S.U.N.Y. New Paltz was awarded to me by E.O.P and thrilled I was ! I choose my profession and art it was. Sadly I found out that the scholarship was for one year only. crushed and in dis pare, I didn't know what to do next? Give up college, but I'm right here? (condensing the story once again), I enlisted to the Army National Guard, and went through basic training in Fort Jackson, South Carolina. And then one year and a half of dirt eating, running and sweating, I completed my task, but was still a soldier. How this connects to WEZ you say? Well here it goes;
After A.I.T ( Advance Initial Training : 91 Bravo Combat medic training at Fort Sam Houston Texas ), and my flight back to New York City, my dad picks me up. What an emotional roller coaster, seeing my dad and hearing of bad news as then entered the homeless shelter on 137th street between 6th and 7th ave. Telling me about mom, and how she was missing since the summer, and what not.

Why I bring the shelter story: I was embarrassed to sleep there and yet alone take any type of shower there, I felt uncomfortable and I couldn't trust no one there. I often walked from the east side of Harlem to the west, to Broadway to see my aunt, so that I can take a shower. Ever so often I had that chance to be "normal", I did my military drill, took showers at base ( Yonkers) and returned home. One afternoon, after utilizing my aunts home, I proceeded to walk towards the east side, to the shelter. Walking up the hill towards City College, in the corner of my eye was WEZ standing right in front of this building. "DANGGGGG I remember you!" as he smiled and I did too. (the year was fall in 2000). He asked me were I was heading to, and I hesitated in telling him, because it was so embarrassing. Who would say, yeah I live in a shelter. I then said to myself, why lie; I got the guts in telling him my story as brief as I could. I thought he would laugh at me, but he didn't. He felt sad and surprised that anyone had to go through it all.
He gave me his pager number and the magic began. He even offered for me to take of my personal hygiene at his place, which I then did. The magic grew, and what a strong force. 2001 came rolling, and I had to return to upstate New York. He asked me out and our relationship is as it was then first time we met in Junior High School.

I wanted to share this, because he means a great deal to me. He believes in my art ever since , you know,. and now. Although there are many obstacles and hills, F - it even mountains that we all face, but we faced it with one thing in mind, how to grow better as a person and as a human being. In mind we share a beautiful spirit our son Wesly.

Thanks once again for reading. This blog is for educational awareness and to express to others my personal journey if anything.
"Love is Love"

~Marthalicia

Mom on fathers day: June 21, 2009 trip to Hedgewood

My mothers conditon: Schizophrenia. Schizophrenia is a mental disorder that makes it difficult to tell the difference between real and unreal experiences, to think logically, to have normal emotional responses, and to behave normally in social situations

There are 5 types of schizophrenia:
Catatonic
Disorganized
Paranoid
Residual
Undifferentiated * THIS IS WHAT MY MOM HAS.... Those that were with me during my dark times, and the high lights; those that understood where I cam from understand how important my family means to me. My mother has been currently living upstate New York since November 24 2008.

I haven't seen her since that date until this past father's day June 21, 2009. Although I know that there are other families that don't often see their parent of don't have them, I truly understand how important it is to have what you have. The Cup is not always half empty.

During this special day, I commuted with my youngest brother Jorge, my son and WEZ. All of us had a great trip viewing the scenery of New york to upstate. The place that were were heading was called HEDGE WOOD, near fishkill. I never been there, but the place look so familiar.

Upon arriving, we all entered the facility and signed in. I thought that a mental facility would be a bit harsh to witness, especially the patience that were older and on medication. But I was surprised, it wasn't at all like that. "MALTA !" was what I heard, I turned around and there she was, smiling and arms opened ready for an embrace. " MAMI ! " I shouted, as I rushed towards her and gave her a bear hug. Tears rolled, but we both kept them well inside. Everything seemed to vanished as I held her near... .
Oops I totally forgot to mention to my mom that Jorge, Wesly and WEZ was behind me... "my bad" hee hee, they weren't pissed as I would have thought, but the mood changed once everyone got their hugs in with momma dukes.

OK OK, I am a bit weird, and so is my moms, that's why we started to arm wrestle on the table. It started by me asking how was she feeling, she says "fine, in fact, she added, I feel like a wild horse". Oh yeah, prove it, as we got really goofy in the arm combat mode. My son wanted a bit of the action and started to arm wrestle my moms... I didnt know who to cheer to? And my younger brother Jorge is LAUGHING at whats he is seeing; not sure if he wanted in.. (do you think he wanted to?) Do you remember a saying, one that says, "Its the little moments, those little things that a child always remember that always reminds one that Love is there". Or the one that says, "Its those moment in your life that you will never forget because they were so sincere and honest" For some reason I adore them, and that's why I am so childlike with family and friends, because one can never forget how special they are; the people you have in your life, and the need to show them now, is so important. You might not be able to have a second chance to ever say or do anything that they will know that you care. Sorry if I am getting a bit philosophical. My moms gets excited and wants all of us to really see what she has seen here on "her place", and started to give us a tour. From the lobby to her bedroom, to the lobby again and the out doors. This place isn't bad if you like the rural way of living. Yo I'm from New York, I defiantly need to hear the sirens, the police chase, the garbage truck backing up, the arguments, dang maybe I need help, either way, its how I grew up, the environment I was in that reflects me. But me staying there, I started to calm down a bit, and feel comfort in the most strange way, as if I wanted to sleep, that's how comfy it felt there.

Now it was time to say our good- bys, Jorges shows care by plucking hair, and I take a quik photo of us. while we head to the out door for a last tour and aour LAST good by for our trip back home.

Love you mom.

Tomas Manon aka: ATOMIC

My older brother Tomas, also known as Atomic, has always been a great inspiration to be and still is.

Art, music, the street culture and everything that entails expression, I learn alot by him. He was the one that helped me understand art in a manner where I can comprehend.

There was a time in my life that all I was, was his shadow. I notice this in elementary school and future school that I was with him. "Why can't you read faster like Tomas?", or "Tomas is so much better in the math and vocabulary department, why not follow his lead?" All of those comments that were coming from either family members and or teachers and friends, made me feel a bit insecure about how I was communicating to people in general. I looked up to him and always will. He was my artistic muse, my art rebel and art inspiration.

We did everything together. Funny, it felt like we were living like twins. He would say a sentence and or an idea and I would finish it, in a unison of thought. We are battle baddies and close friend as much as we are siblings. Growing up is such a hard settings all our lives, with the many obstacles, he was there to keep thinking forward with his art as a balance our escape. Art was everything we talked about, from "yo let art cypher on this black book" or "what your doing today Martha, nothing...so lets paint!" Even the music section in our lives, Tomas the pioneer! He influence my ear taste buds, if that was such a thing. From underground music, hip hop, classical, house, trance, and anything that makes the body move, we was there to expose it to me. Oh Tomas I do thank you, I wouldn't have learn to appreciate it in the way that I do now.

The Break Dance. He again was the one that lured me into the b-boy/b-girl dance off starting from our High school era. Such a rebel.. Tomas danced, painted, and on his very own used his writing and lyrical skills to uplift his dreams to one day be an awesome MC.

Today my older brother is forced to live in a shelter in Manhattan. His goals and dreams are placed in a pause, in order for him to see better what will his role be in the future. If anything this blog is to educate others what life can be.

With great admiration I present to you Tomas: