I grew up in inner city New Haven. In fact, where I grew up doesn’t even exist anymore. We were told that there was a highway going to be going through this predominantly African American working-class community, but the highway never went there. We had to all move and scatter. That was really strange because the people that we grew up with were a very close-knit community. We ended up eventually moving to the border of Hamden [just north of New Haven]. I grew up with my mother, who was Pentecostal. She went to Beulah Heights Church. My father was Baptist. By the time I was 13, I felt like there were too many rules in that Pentecostal church. I had an interest in sports and getting together with people, and it seemed as though the Baptist youth had it going on! We did a lot of social stuff. I joined Emmanuel Baptist Church on Chapel Street, which is still there, and I enjoyed church so much. We had basketball teams, artwork, drama… There was always something to do there, so it was always fun. I ended up being at church about three days a week, maybe even four days. It was just a place to hang out and have a good time. 

 

My mother had this idea that she wanted me to go to a different school than my siblings. I was the third of four children. She had me take a test for a private school, but I didn’t know I was taking an admissions exam. She just said, “Take this test and do well and I’ll get you something.” I scored high and I got a full scholarship to an all-girls Catholic school. I was not Catholic. It was Sacred Heart Academy in Hamden, Connecticut. I thought it must be a joke. It wasn’t a joke. And so, they wanted to integrate the school. It was about five hundred students, and they accepted four – what I call – brown girls. We started there, but they never really kept us together in classes. We were separated a lot. I would say it felt a little traumatic for me at first because first of all, it was the suburbs, it was very isolated, it was Catholic, and they had Mass daily.

 

I still went to my Baptist church, and at the same time I was involved with Yale Drama School for summer school, and I had gotten initiated into transcendental meditation. So, I got my mantra, and that provided some kind of solace for me – learning how to meditate. After a while, I started seeing people as spirits with these kind of tents on that were different colors. I had to rationalize to myself that we’re all one people, and it’s just that we’re wearing different outer clothing. That there’s an inner spirit as well. So, I was introduced to this whole spiritual dimension that has really helped me tremendously.

 

 

 

 

Then, she experienced a catastrophic injury of her spinal disks, caused by a fall while helping a patient. Bedridden for about a year, she would imagine talking to God about her suffering and wrote notes to document this conversation. The result was the book From Mess to Message.

 

I just intended to have a conversation with the holy every day, to take me out of the pain, relieve me from it. The mess was my pain, the abrupt stop in my career, and the message was a message of hope. At the end of the book, I realized I was finished writing. I said, “When does this end?” And I felt this voice saying to me, “It ends when you thank God for the pain.” I was so confused about that. How could you thank God for pain? Really? So, I started listening to Mother Theresa’s tapes a lot, and she talked about the people who were suffering in Calcutta. She said they are the called ones. They are the people that are called because we exercise our compassion through them. In other words, we would never learn compassion if we had no one to practice on. We would never learn empathy.

 

 

 

Now this chapel was built in such a way that it’s all windows completely around, so you can look in and see. I was the only one in this chapel, and this huge Bible was open. It was open to Ecclesiastes 3: There’s a time and season for everything. A time to be born, and a time to die. The tears just rolled down my face. I felt like I was going to get the pages wet. I stepped back and sat down and thought about it, and I said, “Well, maybe I can do it.”

 

So, I went there, and took a few courses each semester. I stayed on campus, and every single time I showed up, there was one of three male students that would help me. I never had to call them. Somehow, they’d be walking past. One of those three were right there to carry my books to get me in and everything. Now mind you, I started there with a cane. By the time I graduated, no cane. And I was walking up the hill! It just felt as though I was getting better and better as I continued, and the support was phenomenal. It was wonderful. Sarah Drummond was so supportive, and she designed such a wonderful program for me that was so enriching, it was just incredible.

 

So finally, we got to almost my last year and we had to do a border crossing. I think it was a sixteen-day border crossing in Israel in Jerusalem. We went to the Holy City and stayed with Palestinian families. It was wonderful. When I was there, I remember being on Mount Olive and wanting to ride a camel but not sure if I wanted to do that alone. One of the professors rode on the camel with me. I’m so glad I had that experience because it was life-changing for me.