I can’t think of more successful people than my mom and dad. It’s not that they’re rich or famous, it’s that they showed me the true story of immigrants living the American Dream.
Immigration is a controversial topic now, but honestly, wasn’t this country made on the backs of immigrants? Growing up in Brooklyn, I saw all sorts of people of different colors and cultures, all working hard to make a better life for their children in one of the most dangerous places to live in the 1980s. My mom and dad are of West Indian descent, and while my mom was working and going to school, my dad drove a taxi at night just to keep food on the table. This was an upgrade because when they first came to this country, they were working in factories.
We grew up in poverty, so I didn’t get a lot of the things I wanted as a kid – but then again, it was an entirely different generation then. No internet or cell phones existed for me for the first 18 years of my life. But I digress. Mom and dad worked very hard to make sure I finished school, and I at least got all the books I wanted. I was part of the Scholastic Book Club, and this is what I looked forward to every Friday, after placing my order:
Mom and dad always made sure I had my books no matter how expensive they were. That to me right there is a success for their kid.
They pinched every penny, and saved every dollar they had, and eventually my dad started doing the thing he was always meant to do – build houses. In Guyana, my dad was a successful carpenter at a young age, only when he came to the USA did he have to dumb down his skills to get a decent wage at a factory to provide for his family. But when things were finally good, and they had the money to invest, Dad bought his first house in Queens and started fixing it up. All the while, I was busy growing up and Mom was finishing up her degree at Court Reporting school. I am not sure if stenographers are even around anymore, but they used to be a vital part of the courtroom.
After several years of building and selling houses, we finally hit it big and moved out to Long Island, NYC – which is where the rich of the rich usually live if you’re a New Yorker. We had arrived. I was doing really well in college and at my payroll job, and mom and dad were building more houses than ever. They hit a big bump in the road during the 2008 housing crisis but were still able to put away good money. I always admired my parents, for their tenacity, intelligence and survival skills, and where most people fail, my parents always seem to find a way to persevere.
I hit many big bumps in the road too in my life. When I came to North Carolina and was in an extremely dangerous relationship, and ended up in jail, not only did my parents pick up everything they had and leave NYC to come save me here, but they brought all my belongings and everything I left behind in NY with them. While paying for storage and living in motels while I was in jail, my parents managed to find a small house, pay cash for it, and fix it up so it was actually livable to where it is worth well over $100K now. All this while I made a complete mess of my life.
My parents are heroes and are the forever success story in my eyes. They love their life here in North Carolina, my mom says she loves the people and the big open spaces a lot more than NYC. Dad still gets nostalgic for NYC, but I think he likes the fact that he has big open land now, and a great place to retire. The funny thing is at 73 and 65, my mom and dad still build and redid a house in a nearby town to flip and sell. Absolutely remarkable, considering they did all the building and renovating themselves, where most people are well into their retirement.
There is no greater success in this world than the rags to riches story of my mom and dad. Through all the years, and even all my craziness, they managed to keep everything they earned and bounced back time and time again. They are my blessing, my heroes.
Stay Tuned.
An Inspired Odyssey Through✨️Ink & Stardust✨️ 