"The hardest thing about being a teenager is middle school. Everybody's in groups. There's the popular group, the jocks, the nerd group, the cool kids, and the dramatic group. I try just to be myself, be nice to everyone, and treat everybody as equal. The best thing about being a teenager is having more control over my life and making my own decisions. The hardest decision for me right now is about college. I want to be a teacher someday; I've always liked little kids."
"If I had a superpower, I would be invisible. I'd go in stores and look around to see if there were robbers and then I'd zap them with lightning." "When I grow up I want to be a scientist because sometimes I make science. And I want to be a chef so I can make hot dogs and hamburgers and work at McDonalds!"
"My mom is my hero because she's a single mother and a full-time teacher, but she still has time for her three daughters. She's there for us when we need her, and when we get one-on-one time, we do special things together like get sushi at the market, get smoothies, and come to art class."
“I started arranging silk flowers just as a joke. Some family and friends were having a Christmas decorating contest a few years ago, and I decided I’d try to outdo my sister and sister-in-law. They did that kind of thing all the time, but I never had. It took me three months to get everything ready. The night of the contest, we went from house to house, and I made sure mine was last on the list. Relatives said, ‘You better have something over there, Charles, with all this talking you’re doing!’ At the next to last house, my wife and I left early and went home. I put on my tuxedo; I was so nervous I could barely tie the tie. My wife got the music ready and then turned off the lights. I know everybody was expecting me to be crazy and jump out at them in some kind of costume; that’s just the kind of guy I am. But when everyone got there, I greeted them at the door and said, very formally: ‘This was designed by Charles Taylor!’ I had arranged a signal with my wife, and when I said a certain word, she turned on the lights, the jazz music started, and everybody was like, ‘Wow! Wow!’ The women kept looking around and saying, ‘That’s GOOD! That’s GOOD!’ I really had expected them to laugh, but they didn’t. I thought I was playing a joke on them, but it turned out, the joke was on me: they actually liked what I had done. I certainly hadn’t intended on selling anything that night, but people wanted to buy the arrangements. I thought maybe they just didn’t want to embarrass me, so I told my wife, ‘Let’s enter a crafts show where no one knows me. If we can sell there, then I’ll know for sure.’ That’s what started it all. I’ve been doing silk arrangements and painting furniture ever since. People bring me things and say, ‘Can you make something out of this?’ My wife, a retired police officer, finds all kinds of treasures too. I work on them in the evenings and on weekends, and we have this booth [at the Sheffield Antiques Mall in Collierville]. I can’t even bring myself to buy new stuff anymore. With new stuff, you haven’t done anything. The work you put into something makes it beautiful. “I'm an admissions director at a mental health facility, but I've always loved working with my hands, so I also teach a 2-hour class there every week called Self-Expression Through Art. It’s soothing, spiritually uplifting, and helps patients to relax. We do string art, papier mache, free drawing, and other things; it just depends on the patients and their needs. It’s a great feeling, seeing them socializing, creating, and getting better. There’s beautiful stuff coming out of them.” Charles Taylor, Silk flower arrangements & distressed furniture
Sheffield Antiques Mall, 684 W. Poplar Avenue, Collierville “I grew up in Lemoyne Gardens in the 50’s and 60’s. Everything was safe then. You could sleep outside or with the doors open and you didn’t worry about anybody coming in or bothering you. You could walk anywhere by yourself and think nothing of it. I remember those old-fashioned cars, the kind with two doors, and I remember when milk was delivered to the doorstep in bottles. Back then, they brought around big blocks of ice that we put in a box, and that’s how we kept food cold. That was the icebox, and I still call it that. My grandchildren correct me and say, ‘Grandmama, it’s a refrigerator, not an icebox!’ but I can’t get out of calling it that. We had a corner store in the neighborhood, and drinks were ten cents. Everything was cheap then. They used to have a big ole bus that came around and got all the people at 5:00 in the morning when it was still dark, and we’d go and pick cotton. That’s how my mama made our money. There wasn’t anybody to keep the children, so the children had to go with the parents. I couldn’t tell you now where the cotton fields were; I don’t remember. But I remember getting on that bus and going when I was little. “Where we lived was all black, so I didn’t know any white people growing up. There was a Catholic Church across the street, and we’d see them going in and out, but that’s about all the white people we ever saw. Most all of us went to a black church, Metropolitan Baptist, which is still there. I didn’t know much about what was going on between blacks and whites because we never left the neighborhood. We had everything we needed right there. But I remember how excited everybody was over Martin Luther King. They said it was amazing that we had somebody who was strong for us. That’s all anybody ever talked about. He brought hope. People said the world was going to change because of him, but I didn’t really understand what that meant. “I was going to Hamilton High School when King was killed. All our people just went crazy, tearing things up, breaking stuff, going in stores and taking things, setting buildings on fire, just taking control. They even set the only library we had, the one on Vance, on fire. Everybody was so upset. The National Guard came in, and we were on curfew. We had to be in the house at 8:00 in the evening; nobody could be outdoors. If you got caught out doing some stuff, you’d go to jail. It was a terrible time. My parents were so shocked about it all. It looked to them like the world was going to end. “A lot of progress has been made since those days. I never thought I’d live to see the changes I’ve seen in my lifetime. I have white friends now and belong to a mixed church that has a white pastor and a black pastor. I think people treat each other a lot better now than they used to. The bad part though is all the killings. When we were growing up, we didn’t have all this killing, but now it happens every day. It’s the devil inside and the drugs---the cocaine---that are destroying people’s lives. A lot of people in this world are just angry. To me, they don’t know the Lord. If they knew the Lord, a lot of this stuff wouldn’t be happening. If we’d just come together and love one another, this would be a better world, but people don’t want to do that. There’s always an excuse to get mad. People say, 'White people called us this!' or 'White people do that!' But I say: ‘Just let it go. Go on. You can’t keep hanging on to that. You got to do better.’ King wanted to bring black and white people together when he was alive. That was a good thing then, and it still is.” Betty Isom, who has lived in the Vance-Lauderdale area for over forty years, has been quoted in the media about her views regarding the Foote Homes Housing Development, views which she says have changed over time:
“My husband and I are both nurses and have always tried to help people, but about a year and a half ago we decided it was time to do something more. We started a nonprofit [Merge Memphis], got some volunteers together, and began to supply monthly food boxes to a group of struggling families that we personally know. We also make up care packages and put them in bus stops all up and down Poplar, and in the winter we tie scarves and care packages to trees in Court Square for anyone who's cold; you don’t have to be homeless to take one. People donate food, hats, gloves, socks, and other items. In fact, someone even donated a food truck to us---it’s the only nonprofit food truck in Memphis---and we use the proceeds to help fund our projects. One of the things we’ve used those funds for is to make curtains for the Opportunity Center at 600 Poplar. Forty-two men live there, but when the temperature gets below 36 degrees, other people come and stay the night on mats in the front room. It’s a big glassed-in area and there was no privacy, so we measured the windows, got a volunteer to sew the curtains, and now they’re up. It gives our friends a little bit of dignity not to be right out there in the open where people passing by can gawk at them and at what little they have. Plus, car headlights don't beam in on them all night. “I just feel like we need to help people. That’s what we’re supposed to be doing. I don’t see how a person can go to work for eight hours a day, come home, watch television all evening, and close their eyes to what’s happening all around them. If you stay open, listen to God, and are willing, he’ll show you what you can do. You don’t have to build a $200,000 gym for people to play basketball in, in order to help them. We’ve got plenty of those. You don’t have to be somebody special to help either; I’m nobody. All I try to do is see needs and look for ways to fill them. Anyone can do the simple things. I never recommend handing out money, but anybody can make up care packets with basic toiletries, socks, and other things. Maybe include a bus pass. Keep the packets in your car and hand them out when you see a person in need. Keep your heart and your eyes open, and if you see something that needs doing, just do it. Treat people the way you'd want somebody to treat your grandmother.” Photos below courtesy of the Merge Memphis FB page: Before and after at the Opportunity Center at 600 Poplar (part of Union Mission): Sherry and Keith McClure are co-founders of Merge Memphis, a 501c3 (non-profit).
FB: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008136078846 “I was born and raised in Venezuela and came here on a tourist visa when I was 28 years old. When I first arrived, I worked every possible job you can imagine, from waiting tables to driving a forklift in a warehouse. Over time, I got better and better jobs and worked on my immigration status. I’m now the Hispanic Victim/Witness Coordinator for the Shelby County DA’s office, helping Hispanics get justice when they’re the victims of crime. I deal with cases involving theft, simple robbery, aggravated robbery, kidnapping, rape, child molestation, murder, assault, domestic abuse, everything. If the victim is Hispanic, the case comes directly to me. Many Hispanics don’t file police reports when they’re violated because they don’t understand how the system works. They don’t know what to expect, and there’s the fear of the unknown. But if someone is the victim of a crime here, they have rights. My work is to make contact with them, make them aware that someone here can communicate with them in their own language, and then guide them through the judicial system. I let them know that help is available to them. “One particularly rewarding case that came through our office involved an 11-year-old girl who was sexually abused. The child’s family was contacted and helped through the legal process, the perpetrator was convicted, and the child was referred for counseling. Without the family's cooperation, the defendant would have gotten off the hook and would only have targeted someone else. We need Hispanic victims to come forward and stay with the case to help us get convictions. When they do, it helps the entire community.” ************ For information helpful to the entire Hispanic community in Memphis, readers are encouraged to visit the FB page La Voz de la Communidad (The Voice of the Community). The group also welcomes messages or questions. Andres E. Mata, Hispanic Victim/Witness Coordinator
Shelby County District Attorney General’s Office 201 Poplar, Suite 301 Phone: 901-222-1432 Email: andres.mata@scdag.com “I came to the U.S. nineteen years ago as a middle school exchange student, but the situation in Colombia was so bad with the drug cartels that my mom decided we should move the family here. We’re all U.S. citizens now. I work as the Bilingual Outreach Agent for the City of Memphis, a position created by Mayor AC Wharton (and continuing under Mayor Strickland) to help bridge the gap between the Hispanic community and city government. One of the things we’ve done is to start Certified Neighborhood Leadership Training in Hispanic areas. We want to get information out on topics such as code enforcement and available city services. We’re also working to build better relationships between Hispanics and the police force. “Hispanics are often the target of violent crime because they don’t know the language, don’t understand the legal system, and are afraid to file police reports. But that’s beginning to change. I could tell so many stories, but this one will illustrate the point: A man who was recently robbed and shot in an apartment complex was afraid to report the attack, but his neighbor I had been communicating with called me. I met with the man and his family and told them, ‘You need to contact the police. If this happened to you, it could happen to someone else. We need to work together on this. I’ll guide you through it.’ He filed the report, and with the help of a bilingual staff member in the DA’s office, he was finally convinced to follow the case through the court system. His attacker was convicted and is now serving a lengthy sentence. It turned out that he had also killed another Hispanic person. So because this one victim was willing to work with us, a criminal is off the streets. We want Hispanic community members to feel comfortable interacting with the police and with city government. We want to build that kind of trust. We have a long way to go, but we’re making progress.” ******* For information helpful to the entire Hispanic community in Memphis, Valentina encourages readers to visit the FB page La Voz de la Communidad (The Voice of the Community). The group also welcomes messages or questions. Valentina Henao, Bilingual Outreach Agent for the City of Memphis
125 N. Main, Suite 438 Phone: 901-636-8703 Email: Valentina.Henao@memphistn.gov “A lot of people who come into Drug Court don’t necessarily want to quit doing drugs, but they’ve got a charge over their heads and don’t want to go to jail. That’s all right. But what we’ve found is that, once they get into the program and the drugs get out of their system, they start thinking more clearly. They start thinking about the negative impact they’ve had on their family and friends and loved ones, and they start buying into it. Not all of them, but quite a few do. Now if a person is a big-time drug seller, we just go the traditional route. And violent offenders don’t have the option of drug court. But if a person has a non-violent drug (or drug-driven) charge, we can take it. For instance, we would accept somebody who was arrested for stealing from Walmart to get money for drugs or a lady selling her body to get money for drugs, but we can’t take a violent offense like armed robbery. The drug court program is 12-18 months, depending on the severity of the charge, and involves intensive treatment and frequent court appearances so we can monitor how they’re doing. At the end there’s a graduation. We give them a diploma and some other things, but one thing we give them is their mug shot from the time of their arrest. We don’t do that to embarrass them, but we want them to keep it close by in case they think about relapsing. They can look and see where they were then and where they are now. It’s amazing the changes in people who go through the program: their attitude, disposition, appearance, everything changes. That’s rewarding and encouraging. “I have hundreds of success stories, but two in particular stand out to me. Both of these individuals were addicts, they went through the drug court program, and both of them work for me now, one as a drug counselor and the other as a secretary. They went from one extreme to the other. “The ‘Born Addicted’ program is part of drug court too. There are a lot of people who are against it, but I think they have a misconception. They seem to think we’re taking these ladies and throwing them in prison for having a drug-addicted baby, but what we’re doing is charging them with a misdemeanor and giving them the opportunity to go into treatment. They need help. Have you ever seen a baby born dead because of the drugs in its system, or going through withdrawals when it’s born? It’s a terrible thing. If the ladies don’t get help, they’re going to go right back out and have another drug-affected baby. We originally had this program going, but then the legislature changed the law and said that we couldn’t do it. At the time, I had 13 ladies who were in the program and doing well, and I had to tell them, ‘I have to dismiss your case because the law has changed.’ It was the first time in all my years on the bench that I had ladies begging me NOT to dismiss their case. They said, ‘This is the only way I’m going to be able to stay off of drugs and raise my child!’ It killed me. I still made arrangements for them to continue getting treatment, but most of them, without the drug court, without that hammer over their heads, ended up going back to their addictions. It was sad. The program is active again now, but the law's up for reconsideration before the legislature this summer. I just hope and pray it stays in place. “I’ve been a judge for 32 years, and this is my 19th year with drug court. I still wake up every morning fired up. I really enjoy being in a position to try to help save people’s lives. And it’s not just me. It’s my team. We all work together.” Informational video regarding Shelby County Drug Court treatment program: Letter to the editor of The Commercial Appeal, regarding the "Born Addicted" program, in reference to the 55 women who have given birth to drug-affected babies in Shelby County since mid-2014: Website: Shelby County Drug Court FB: Shelby County Drug Court Foundation Articles about Shelby County Drug Court:
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Judge Tim Dwyer, General Sessions Division 8, Shelby County Drug Court 201 Poplar, Suite LL-56 CM: "What would you like to say about yourself?"
TREVOR: "Nothing, really. I don't think I want people to know that much about me." |
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