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"Uncle Leslie"
"Uncle Leslie," Eva calls me
at times. Reflections on visiting
my niece EVA BECKER
in her classroom today
at Hamilton High School.
She called me "Uncle Leslie"
in front of her students.
By the end of the day, every kid
was calling me "Uncle Leslie."
It was a most delightful experience.
I was really able to connect with
these 15 year olds.
Date: 2/17/2010 8:05:20 PM ( 14 y ) ... viewed 4817 times
EVA BECKER, my niece in the science classroom,
February 17 at HAMILTON HIGH SCHOOL.
She has wonderful rapport with her students
and reaches many of them.
6:02 PM
February 18, 2010
My Niece Eva calls me Uncle Leslie.
It has taken me a long time to get use to being called that.
My relation with family is not exactly normal.
My mother died when I was 12 years old.
She was the center of our household.
The Jewish community I knew
spiraled around her. She was a source
of strength for my father. She was a source
of friendship for our neighbors.
I grew up in East Los Angeles.
My father was always away from home
and the closest love I received on a daily basis
came from my mother and my mother's
friends. Many of her friends lived on our
block. Gilbert Orozco and his family
were part of my early childhood development,
and it was through their love that I first
came to see how a father played with his
kids and also gave discipline when needed
in a healthy way.
My mother Anna was the center of stability for my own life.
She was also a great baker and homemaker.
We always had either Jewish friends or our Catholic
neighbors in our house, and my earliest experiences
in gardening came from stealing my way into the back
yards of our Asian neighbors where I saw my first chicken egg.
Cancer took her my mother
and the bottom fell out of my life.
At the same time, there had been a migration
of the Jewish community from the East Side
to the West Side. My Mother stayed in
a hospital on the East Side, and for six months
I was stuck on the West Side without her love.
One of the last times I saw her live, Gilbert
Orozco was sitting with her. She was unconscious.
It is memories like that bring tears to my eyes.
It doesn't matter if you are 15 or 62.
You never forget memories like that.
By the age of 15, stress factors that
were like an earthquake began
showing up in the way I walked.
I remember my father taking off of work
to take me into to see a doctor. I was in the
tenth grade. The doctor looked at my hips.
He took an X-Ray. The X-ray showed I was
growing old in my hips too fast. Some bones
were no longer developing at a natural pace.
I had lost my rhythm with life with my mother died.
I had lost the beat when I felt her love leave.
In those days, Doctors could tell that the mind
could make a body ill. They called this a psychosomatic
illness. They made it sound like there was something
wrong with my mind and it was showing up in my body.
They make it sound like there was nothing really
wrong in my body because they could not find anything
wrong in my body.
I began hobbling around.
I went to Fairfax High School in Los Angeles.
For periods of time when I was in the 11th Grade,
and again when I was a Senior, I was on crutches.
The pain in my hips was severe and nerve-like.
I always felt like the pain was made worse by sitting on those
hard chairs. I once turned one over and discovered
it was made by a prisoner in jail.
I don't think the person who made that seat
was too happy. I wasn't too happy sitting in the chair
that was made by someone in jail.
2.
Today, February 18, 2010 was an amazing
day.
I spent yesterday visiting my father Solomon,
who is 91. Then I spend some time with my sister
Vivian at the original Farmers' Market at
Third and Fairfax.
Around 4 PM or so, Vivian and I had a snack
with a group of her friends. Each Tuesday a group
of friends meet for a $2.00 movie at the
County Art Museum at the La Brea Tar Pits.
Then they get together for some smoozing
and "smears" at the wonderful Farmers' Market.
They shared a large plate of Friench Fries.
I ate some fried Plantain's and other things,
and had to go take a nap.
A friend of Eva's was there, David Liefer,
a sweet man. We went off and talked for an hour
or more. I found a place to lay down outside
of Johnny Rocket, a 60's style hamburger spot.
There were tunes playing from the 60's.
It was all very surreal. I grew
up when those tunes were first played.
I would come to this Farmers' Market every
Friday after school to buy a Classic Comic
or a plate block of stamps at the P.O. for
my stamp collection.
My mother was already gone.
That Farmers' Market was my get away place
when I was 13, 14, 15, and maybe 16.
Last night was Fat Tuesday, and so we all stayed
and had a great time dancing at the Farmers Market.
It was a never-to-forget kind of experience.
First I danced with Eva and her friend Audry.
There were two of the loveliest women sitting
right near us. They were kind of cheerleader
types who reminded me of my allies when I was
the Commissioner of Men's Athletics at
Los Angeles Valley College, my first college experience
between 1965-68.
My Favorite Dance Partner at Fat Tuesday
at the Farmers Market at Third and Fairfax
I do not know their names.
I never asked, and yet
It was the sweetest of the sweet kind of experience.
Both women and I made the sweetest eye contact
while we danced. Both women were very beautiful
and great dancers.
They were gaily dressed in Marte Gras
attire. Other men and women kept
giving me strings of beads.
I kept passing the beads onto the
two lovely women. Eva took some
photos of us all dancing.
3.
I slept over at Eva's.
Before I went to bed.
I kept looking at one picture,
a photo of me and the first woman I danced with.
I wanted to hold on to that very special moment.
That next morning, Eva invited me to go to
class with her.
That was a life changing experience for me.
I will write more about it when I am rested.
Eva introduced me as an Enchanted Gardener
and also Uncle Leslie.
I stayed until 1 PM.
I had the opportunity to speak to three classes
of tenth graders. I touched the lives of about
ten students with planting of Seed Dreams
and introducing KEEP THE BEET MEDIA STAR,
The World's First Talking Beet Plant.
All the kids were calling me Uncle Leslie.
Uncle Leslie. How very sweet.
Something inside me deeply moved.
Something inside me is deeply moved.
I have tears in my right eye.
##
11:14 PM
February 18, 2010.
My Sister VIVIAN as a Kid.
I took a copy of a photo at Eva's apartment
the other day. This photo makes me want
to hold this little child in my arms.
I feel sadness that I never gave
birth to a little girl like that.
I am having feelings about my life now.
Spending time with Eva in the classroom
was a profound healing experience.
More to write about that.
I am on the run.
12:25 PM
February 18, 2010
This is a picture of one of the two friends
that I danced with at the Fat Tuesday event.
Eva has a photo of me with the first woman
I asked to dance. She was sitting down
when I asked her to dance, talking to her friend.
The music was terrific. It made me feel bad
that someone so beautiful was just sitting talking
when perhaps they really wanted to dance.
I caught her attention. I jestured to pointer
fingers at her, indicating I wanted to dance.
She came right up to the dance floor and
left her conversation. She was very vital in her
dance. She had great freedom and joy
expressing through her body.
I thanked this woman for dancing with me.
She said it was her honor. It was a very
respectful engaging experience.
Eva has a great photo
of the first woman I asked to dance. It was a
moment to remember.
I also have a great photo of the Kids at Hami
at the new garden spot.
I need to make sure I get permission from
the head teacher before I publish that!!!!
My sister Vivian dancing with AUDRY,
Eva's lifelong friend. I am 62 now.
Vivian is four-years older than I am.
I was thinking of coming home
Monday. Eva text me,
"I miss my brother."
I changed my plans and stayed over.
I have ignored my sister for most of my life,
but plan to turn this around now.
She has a sweet sense of humor,
and carries much unresolved feelings.
I was born right after the end of World War 2.
She was born in the middle of it.
Our parents seemed deeply and unconsciously
effected by the event of World War 2.
The Battle wages on through the desire
to control food, I sense. More on that theme
in the days to come.
FARMERS MARKET THIRD AND FAIRFAX
MARDI GRAS 2009. I WENT in 2010.
I hope someone puts up a Youtube!!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a58m4qKGO5o
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