Rooftop Sunset

I went to a rooftop wine and cheese gathering yesterday evening in Brooklyn.  Many of the other attendees were couchsurfers; from Puerto Rico, Australia, China, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, and Austria who somehow winded up on this rooftop with me.  I sat on my own and watched the sunset over Manhattan to the west.  The night air was perfect and stirred the anticipation for summer in this new, crazy city.  The sky turned beautiful colors, blue, pink, purple.  When the sky turned it's deep blue, we laid on our backs and saw a handful of stars shine through the light pollution of the city.  Fireworks went off in the distance near the Statue of Liberty.

 

I have been so stricken by tragedy in the past days.  A police investigator called me yesterday.  He asked about Patrick, a young man from Long Island who recently moved to the city.  Patrick was supposed to look at the uptown apartment I am going to try to move into about a month from now.  Patrick is now a missing person.  Although I hardly knew Patrick, this strange event makes me think of all the people who are close to me.  Shortly after, I got a phone call from a friend, who was slow to tell me he was in the hospital after being in a bad accident.  At first, I could hardly handle the news.  I felt scared to even leave the house, but if I stayed home I would have driven myself crazy.  I try to appreciate the things that are right in my life even more when other things go wrong.

 

As we pick from a smorgasbord of cheeses and other delicacies, taste wines from all over the world, and exchange stories of backpacking, our rooftop seems so surreal.  We speak of 9-11, a common New York topic, very aware of the open space that used not to have been there.  Our host watched the whole thing happen from this very rooftop nearly eight years ago.  We seem to be in the center of the world, a dozen or so people come together for good company and good (and bad) wine.

 

A girl from Austria is in town on internship.  She is working for a social organization that is putting together a report on the public housing situation in New Orleans.  She tells me of the hundreds of people, eighty percent of which are women, many with children who have been evicted from their homes from developers planning to build luxury apartments.

 

I think, how lucky are we?  How small are our problems?  Mine seem so overwhelming at the moment, but I know the world can be a beautiful place.  I have people who love me, and I love them.  I am known for buying last minute flights to wherever I desire.  I have a place to rest my head and good friends to show me around anywhere in the world I may end up. The day prior I walked along Brighton Beach for the first time, had a backstage pass at the Lupe Fiasco-NERD concert, and woke up in the Sheraton across the Hudson in New Jersey.  Today I will go to an antiquities dealer’s gallery, touch real mummies and other ancient artifacts, and be treated with more wine and cheese.  Then I plan to go see my friend that was in the accident in a hospital in the Bronx after his surgery.

 

I have been tested in the past days beyond anything I would have ever have imagined, but how could I look out over the East River, Downtown Manhattan, the Empire State Building, and the Verrazano Bridge and not feel a certain serenity?  Life is full of ups and downs.  The year was starting off fabulously.  I made the move to New York, taking a month to meander around the country before arriving.  I spent nights in over a dozen cities and a day in Mexico.  I took a last minute trip to Puerto Rico with a girl I hardly knew at the time.  Now I find myself at a point in my life when I am being tested.  I try to keep my head held high and work on myself as a person.  Sometimes I feel scared, weak, and untrusting of the world around me.  Those that know me see me as strong, independent, and level headed.  I try to remind myself of how lucky I really am.

 

I have to thank my friends for always being there for me.  I feel safe because I know if I fall I will have a multitude of hands to pick me up.  You soothe me with your conversation and make me smile when there are tears in my eyes.  You give me so much, and there is not enough I could do to express my gratitude for you.

 

I was once told New York would “kill my soul.”  Although I knew this was mostly meant as a joke, I took it to heart and pledged to constantly make sure my soul would remain intact.  I am constantly trying to better myself and learn from my mistakes and those of the people around me.  What can I do to somehow improve the lives and overall well-being of others?  What can any one of us do?  I fail when I take the easy road, so I must constantly challenge myself to go outside my comfort zone.  I find that I am a better, stronger, more productive person than I was five years ago, or even five months ago, and although I know I have a long way to go, I am proud of that.

 

As I look out onto the sunny day, I am full of hope and love.  Don’t we all have so much to be thankful for?  I will enjoy this day.

Commentary on the Response to the Elk Grove Shooting

I am sad to say I am one of the suspects’ sister.   My sister did not fire the weapon, but from what I understand she was partly responsible for the tragedy that unfolded over the past weekend.  After spending the last few days and nights lamenting the events of the weekend, consoling my mother and grandmother, reading the news stories (many of which severely contradict each other) and worse still the comments people have left, I have decided to speak up.  First off, I am overwhelmed with remorse for my sister’s actions this past weekend and I am so sorry for all the people this has hurt.  I really do wish there was something I could do; if there was I would do so in a heartbeat.  My sister’s poor (to put it lightly) decision-making and actions are obviously deserving of prison time.

That being said, I would like to address some of the comments I have been reading.  I must say many of them strike me as ignorant.   I find that people try to find the most convenient answers, which in this case seem to me quite absurd.  The first most obvious trend seems to be the blaming of media, like “MTV and BET,” rap music, et cetera.  The truth is my sister was more of an ESPN fan; she was quite obsessed growing up actually, and left the room when I tended to watch MTV after school.  Does it follow that MLB is to blame?  Maybe if my sister had a more artist outlet like myself (music and related media) things would have turned out better.  Not to say our media is not in need of reform.  It disgusts me to see the treatment of women and the lack of punishment for domestic violence offenders.  My mind goes to the recent Chris Brown-Rihanna case.  In fact, my sister has been a victim of spousal violence with a recent boyfriend, and from what I understand she was hit in the face at this party by a male attendee, which is what set off this despicable chain of events.  I am not making excuses for my sister, but should it not bother me in the slightest that this man faces no consequences whatsoever for his actions?  We are quick to jump to conclusions, when in reality a series of events, circumstances, and influences are at play.

A second even more disgusting assumption I find in the discussion of race, wealth, and other unfortunate class distinctions from a large number of the people who find it necessary to voice their narrow-minded opinions.  Perhaps this is partly due to the Caucasian race of the victim.  For those who really want to know, my sister and myself are purely of European descent.  For those of you to who that means anything, you should be ashamed of yourselves.  I have also heard mentions of welfare, poverty, and urban upbringing.  Actually, my sister and I were brought up in the suburbs of the San Francisco bay area where property value more than doubles that of Elk Grove and the surrounding areas.  We would not be considered wealthy by any standards, but we were fortunate in that we never suffered from not having enough or having to rely on government support.  My sister moved to Elk Grove at fourteen.  I decided to stay back and live with other family members because I found “EG” to be boring, devoid of culture, and depressing.  When I was twenty-one (and my sister was twenty) I pleaded with her to move in with me in San Francisco where I would support her until she got on her feet.  She was in Sacramento at the time, and declined my offer because she couldn’t bring herself to leave her friends and her boyfriend of two years.  I admit in the past days I have blamed myself somewhat for not somehow forcing her out of the hell that is the Sacramento Valley.

The last set of assumptions that I would like to address is that aimed at the values and influence of my family.  I admit I have been guilty of pointing fingers at the families of suspects in past cases.  I never would have imagined myself to be in the position of one of those family members.  These are the comments I find most offensive.   My sister and I, being only a year and a half apart, shared nearly the same upbringing.  Yes, there was divorce.  It was difficult as divorce always is, but it is a growing reality, and just one of the hundreds of factors that lead to the deterioration of modern society.  Luckily, we had a strong support from extended family, including our fabulous uncles and grandparents.  It’s true that an overly conservative Catholic family background put stress on both of us and we struggled to define our own distinct faiths.  Family, education, and manners were of the upmost importance in our young lives.  I am now a fairly successful twenty-four year old recently relocated to New York City.  I am well educated, currently weighing my options for grad school.  I worked and paid my way through college with no debt and honor roll grades.  I am well traveled for my age.  I am an avid volunteer, donating my time at least once a week for local charities and doing any kind of good I can on the side.  I love my family and speak to them regularly, and that has always included my little sister more than anyone.  An attack on my sister’s family is an attack on me.  I’m not perfect by any means, but my family is to blame as much for the good in me as for anything else in either my sister or myself.

So what did lead to the horrific events of Saturday night?  Of course, life is not so simple and there are hundreds of thousands of factors in making up one complex being.  My sister has never been convicted of a crime.  Since graduating high school, the declining job market hit her hard.  Perhaps blame Apple, the company that hired my sister and laid her off and hired her and laid her off and hired her and laid her off simply because they like to hire temps in order to lay them off before they are forced to give them benefits.  Blame that system of business when a company so prosperous cuts corners for a profit.  Again, blame the absence of accountability for males who hit their girlfriends or any other female.  Is it any wonder my sister’s sense of value as a person is damaged?  Furthermore, blame the government for spending trillions of dollars on war and violence rather than addressing the downfall of our school programs, and blame those of us who vote against higher taxes which would benefit our country’s young, poor, or sick, or worse still, those who somehow neglect to make it to the polls.   Blame the embarrassing streak of prejudice and lack of compassion for our fellow human beings, which I found while reading through so many of your comments.  We must find it in ourselves to think critically about things rather than react emotionally; after all, isn’t that what led up to the poor decision making of my sister and others like her the first place?

My sister has no acceptable excuse for her actions, and I am not trying to defend her in writing this.  She got caught up with the wrong guy, and I hope that young man spends his life in prison reflecting for what he did to his victims and the woman he supposedly loved.  May we all look upon ourselves, at our own lifestyles, at our simple day-to-day actions and the words we exchange and reflect.  I would not hope my position on anyone.  I find myself in a position where I must question my beliefs in the world and the people amongst me.  I find myself constantly asking why and trying to deduct the whole thing to simple explanations, but we all must learn that there is no simple answer.  I go on with my life with a drive to be better, work harder, and affect more lives in a more positive way.  I suggest we all do the same.  I feel so much for the families this tragedy has affected, especially the two young children who lost their mother.  I stand by my sister because I know that there is good in her and because that’s all I can do as her sister, but that in no way means I do not feel angered and disgusted at her part in this terrible crime.

 

Melisa Bassett

bebetecgrl@aol.com