The Kindness of Others

Growing up in a chaotic, unpredictable household, I learned to trust no one.

I’m glad that as I’ve matured, I have learned to love and give people a chance. This week I am in France with my younger daughter, who is doing her first sleepaway camp. If nothing else, I think I deserve a badge for not missing any of my trains around the country with a five-year-old and too much luggage in tow.

Of course, Deli and I have had our share of arguments during this trip, but at the end of the day we cuddle up and say I love you before bed. It is sweet and amazing to love someone so unconditionally and help her thrive in this world.

The other day she informed me that she is smarter than me.

“I hope so,” I said. And it is my job to help her along the way.

We have had many interesting and oftentimes bizarre conversations during this trip, ranging from what age she can start dyeing her hair to human evolution. She also asked me one night if I knew anyone who went to jail.

I said yes.

When she asked who, I told her me.

She thought I was joking at first, and when I told her I wasn’t, she asked me why.

I told her that I got caught shoplifting when I was 17.

“And since you are smarter than me, I hope that you never do anything like that,” I said.

She said okay, but I won’t hold her to it forever because I know kids make mistakes.

The shoplifting occurred during a rough period of my life. I was 17, less than a year post-car accident, and I turned to drugs and alcohol to deal with all of the physical and mental pain that I was living with as a result of the trauma from the accident and the scars of a traumatic childhood.

As a teenager, living in my injured brain and trying to make sense of a world I thought had abandoned me in more ways than one, I lived by the creed that appeared at the end of the opening credits from The X-Files: Trust No One.

I believed it served me well. Spoiler: it didn’t.

I was angry and afraid and had no vehicle to understand my emotions. And my life only got worse until I was living on the streets outside of Chicago. (How a girl from Florida ends up there at the end of winter is anybody’s guess.)

The only way I could turn my life around was by asking for help. And, fortunately that is exactly what I did.

The kindness of strangers carried me through as I learned to rebuild my life.

Twenty-five years later, I am still rebuilding my life, and this trip with my daughter is reminding me of the kindness of strangers. It is also showing her how not to be afraid of other people (even though I am still pretty suspicious and hypervigilant, but I try to keep that to myself so my own issues don’t bleed out onto my kids, you’re welcome kids).

Our first stop was a tiny town called Anglet in the Basque Country. We didn’t have a car and there weren’t places to get to so easily on foot for the things we needed for the apartment. In the nearest pharmacy, I asked for toilet paper and the woman explained that the closest place was another 20 minutes on foot.

She asked if I had a car.

I said no.

And she gave me a roll of toilet paper from the pharmacy bathroom.

This might not sound like much, but I love my toilet paper and this woman’s kindness made my day.

We were staying in an apartment connected to a home where a family of four lived. The younger daughter got along well with my daughter and the mother and I became friendly. Then she invited us to her mother’s condo to go swimming and I ended up getting to know generations of this one family and other inhabitants of the condo.

It was amazing.

That night some friends of mine were coming to the apartment for dinner, and the woman happened to know who my friend was and invited us over for an apéro. The apéro lasted longer than I expected, and I started cooking dinner at 9:30 and invited the family to dine with us.

It was so unique and special and memorable, and I loved that I could share this moment with my daughter.

Now we are in Nancy for a few days while my daughter does her first sleepaway camp. The woman whose apartment we are staying in picked us up at the train station and gave us a warm welcome with food.

I’m so grateful for the generosity and kindness of others, and I have such a rich life because of it. And I don’t think any of this would be possible if it wasn’t for me letting down my guard and beginning to trust people and show others the same kindness and generosity.

And what a gift that I can model this for my children.

This week, I am also raising funds for the puppeteer for my show, Noah Ginex.

Noah came to the rescue at the last minute when I needed a puppet for my improvised puppet show in Amsterdam. Long story, but the puppet I had commissioned was not ready in time. Noah loaned me his puppet Simon, and when I later asked him if he knew a puppet builder I could hire for my solo show, he enthusiastically responded:

“ME!”

Now he is building some amazing puppets for Condemned to a Life. Here are some sneak peeks:

Each puppet costs $1,000 to build, and Noah is creating four of them for the show. He will also be puppeteering for me onstage.

This show is about survival, family, shame, humor, incarceration, recovery, and the strange ways we learn to become ourselves. It is also, like so much of my life, about letting other people help me along the way. I am so grateful for the brillaint and dedicated cast I am working with on this show, incluidng Noah Ginex.

If you would like to help me pay Noah for the beautiful puppets he is building and performing with, you can contribute here:

https://fundraising.fracturedatlas.org/condemned-to-a-life

And if you are not in a position to contribute, I hope that you can come to a show, post about the show or continue to support me in any way. I am grateful for you!