Host: Larry Rosen
Larry: [00:00:03] Welcome to The Moth Podcast. I'm Larry Rosen, your host for this episode.
In 2022, we've been marking 25 years of The Moth. By looking back at our history, this episode, we're going all the way to 1999, the year we began our community engagement program.
We started the program as a way of engaging with storytellers who might not otherwise have found their way to us. Today, the program partners with local groups, cultural institutions and nonprofits to host workshops that inspire confidence and self-reflection and deepen connections within and between communities. To celebrate the program, we're playing two stories that came out of community workshops. And stick around after the stories to hear a little more on what the program is all about.
First up is Marie Hershkowitz. Marie participated in a workshop we conducted in partnership with the Brooklyn Public Library in 2014. She went on to share her story in a New York City community showcase that same year. Here's Marie, live at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Marie: [00:01:23] It's the summer of 1965, the one right before junior high school. My parents are hard workers. That's what they did. They worked. Vacation was not a word in our family dictionary. So, here I am, bored to death, just wishing for school to start already, so I'd have something to do. So, then one day, I turn on the television set and I find the New York Mets.
Now, I don't know much about baseball at that point, but I decided I have nothing else better to do, so I might as well watch. So, I watched the game and I realized that this is simple. I can follow this. There's nine players, nine innings, they come up in the same order all of the time. And with my Mets, it's three up, three down, very easy. I caught on quick. [audience laughter] I caught on quick. And by the end of the game, I understood baseball, I knew all the players names and I was hooked.
So, now my sister and I start watching all the televised games. My parents actually managed to take us to a couple of games over that summer of 1965. By the summer of 1966, my sister and I are taking the hour and a half long trek out to Shea Stadium on the trains by ourselves. We're going to as many games as my father could get tickets to, not realizing that it's easy to get tickets, because the Mets are so lousy nobody else wants to watch them play. [audience laughter]
So, in the meantime, we don't care if they win or they lose, we don't care how good or bad they are. We don't even know that they're terrible, but we're Mets fans and we're happy and then the season ends and we're sad. [audience laughter] And it takes until 1967 when I'm there with my parents watching the World Series that I realize, if my team was good, if they could actually get into first place, win the National League, my season wouldn't have to end, because they could go to the World Series. So, I asked my dad, “When the Mets get into the World Series? Will you take us?” And he says, “Sure.”
Well, then 1968 comes, we go to lots more games, we're happy campers, and 1968 World Series comes along and of course the Mets are not in it. And we ask our dad, “When the Mets get into the World Series? Will you take us?” And he says, “Sure.” And of course, my father knows the Mets finished last in 1968. And no one in the baseball world, or in fact anybody in their right mind would ever expect that he was going to have to make do on a promise like this anytime soon, if ever. [audience laughter]
Well now, if you're a Mets fan of a certain age, you know what happened in 1969. Straight from the cellar, ninth place, last place, nine out of nine, they shot right up to first place in 1969 and actually won the National League pennant and went into the World Series against the hard-hitting Baltimore Orioles. So, here we are. They're back from Baltimore having won and lost one, so they're even. Even coming into New York to Shea Stadium for games three, four and five on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, even one-one.
So, Monday, I don't see any Mets tickets. So, I'm hearing on the radio that they're hard to get, they're costing hundreds of dollars, it's going to be record breaking crowd, standing room only. And I'm worried. So, I asked dad, “Are we going to the World Series?” And he says, “Don't worry about it.” So, Tuesday comes, Tuesday goes, [audience laughter] we don't go to the game, but the Mets managed to win. So, now they're going into Wednesday to game three, no, to game four, winning, leading two games to one. So, of course, that night we're asking dad, “Are we going to the World Series?” He says, “Don't worry about it.”
Well, now I'm worried, because you know there's only two games left here in New York. And even if they either going to win them both and they're going to win it here at home, or they're going to go back to Baltimore and play the last two. But either way, there's only two games for me to watch, for me to get a chance to go and share this with them.
So, anyway, Wednesday comes. We again watch them win on TV. They manage to win without us. [audience laughter] Wednesday night, there I am asking dad again, like a broken record, “Are we going to the World Series?” And he says, “Don't worry about it.” So, here it is, Thursday afternoon, the day when they can win it all, and we're home. So, we're getting ready. I'm resigned now to watch this game on TV. And all of a sudden, my mother comes into the kitchen with two tickets in this hand and the car keys in the other. So, now I am overjoyed and panic stricken, because I look at the clock and I see there's no way-- even if my mother drives us to the train, there's no way that we are going to make it to this game for the start of the game.
So, the next thing I know, we're in the car. And before I realize it, we're not going in the direction of the train, we're going the opposite way. I'm understanding that my mother, this woman who has never driven out of the neighborhood, intends to take us to the ballpark. Well, I don't know how we got there, but it was in record time. My very next memory is of my mother arguing with the parking lot attendant, because they want her to pay the fee and she's refusing to pay. This is going back and forth. In the meantime, I'm getting more and more nervous, and all the cars behind me would be perfectly happy to pay their fee and get into this ballpark in time to watch this great game of the century.
So, they're honking their horns. This is getting the attention now of a police officer. So, he comes on over and he wants to know what's the holdup. The attendant tells him, “This woman won't pay.” So, he says, “Lady, you better have a good reason.” So, she says, “There's three of us, only two tickets. I'm not staying. I'm just dropping them off.” “Lady, you're crazy. What are you, nuts? I'd never let my kids go when I had the chance to go to a game like this.” But he felt so sorry for her and so impressed that she was doing this for us that he waved her on in for free and even told her how to get back on the parkway. [audience laughter]
So, she rushes us to the nearest gate. We run in. We have to stop for the national anthem. [audience laughter] But we're this close to our seats. We actually managed to slip on in there as the first pitch is being thrown. Well, the rest is history. You all know what happened. The Mets won the World Series, they became world champs and I was there. [audience cheers and applause]
Best sports moment ever for me. Still to this day, all these years later, best moment ever. So, now here I am at the end of the game, I'm on the seven-train coming home with all these jubilant Met fans screaming and yelling. I'm holding on, it's for dear life and I'm clutching my souvenir right field grass close to my heart, and I'm thinking, how on earth did my father come up with these tickets, and what on earth did my mother think-- and when did she get these tickets and what was she thinking that she couldn't go? And what gave her the strength to think that she could drive us there? [audience laughter]
So, I'm a smart kid. I know what parents are all about. I know they're supposed to keep you safe, they're supposed to provide you the basics, they're supposed to teach you right from wrong and maybe give you a little encouragement now and then. But when I'm standing there, it occurs to me that parenting is more than that. It's about keeping promises and about self-sacrifice. I'm thinking to myself right then and there that if I'm ever blessed to have children of my own, that I want to be the kind of parent that my parents were that day. Yeah, I'm a Mets fan and I believe, but that day was the first time that I actually believed that every child deserves at least one day of perfect parenting.
[cheers and applause]
Larry: [00:09:44] That was Marie Hershkowitz, a devoted Mets fan for 57 years. Marie is still waiting for that elusive third World Series championship. She and her family of long-suffering Mets fans thought, for sure, this was the year and 2022 was a great season while it lasted. Marie says, “It's never been easy being a Mets fan, but it's always been fun. You got to love the Mets for all the joy the team has brought to my family over the years.”
Our next story is from David Gaskin. We met David in a workshop we conducted with Second Chance Studios, a nonprofit digital media company that trains and employs formerly incarcerated individuals. David went on to share his story at the 2022 Mothball in New York. Here’s David.
[cheers and applause]
David: [00:10:42] It was September 10th, 2009, and I was located in Governor Correctional Facility. Governor Correctional Facility is a medium classified correctional facility and I was at the tail end of serving 9 years and 8 months from an 11-year bid. Bid is a terminology that we utilize to describe the length of a sentence.
I was standing inside my cube looking around and I had a thought. Dave, you need to get rid of some of this crap. And the crap that I thought about getting rid of was my personal belongings that I had accumulated over the years. The reason why I was thinking about getting rid of it was because I was scheduled to be released the very next day.
Upon having this thought, I looked around the dorm and I caught the eyes of my comrades and I motioned them over to my queue with the nod on my head like, “Come over here.” They came over. And once they got to the queue, I just told them, “Go in there and take whatever you want.”
My comrade Jone walked in first and he decided to take some of the clothes. He took some sweatsuits and some shirts that we call visiting room shirts. It allowed us to look cool while he was out there on the visiting room. Enimo was the next one inside the cube. He went straight for my books, about two or three reading books, and the rest were BBWs and Black Tails that he continued to grab. [audience laughter] And Oz, who's the greedy one out of the whole crew, went directly for my locker. He went right in, he started digging in the non-perishable items, the snacks, the canned goods, even the little packs of sugar he decided to take.
Right there in that moment, I was feeling great, “Yeah, I'm about to be released the next day and I'm doing something great for my guys.” And that feeling was snatched away. I began to feel a pain in my chest. It happened so fast. It was sharp and just as fast as it happens, it was just as fast as it left. So, I continue on with my day. I did something that usually what young black men would do in that moment when they encountered a feeling that they do not know, I disregarded it. I went about my day as a gym worker to my mandatory program. And when that was over, I returned back to the dorm.
When I returned back to the dorm, when I walked in, I noticed the usual. Some people standing around talking, some sitting down watching TV, others playing card games, chess or checkers. But then, I noticed the unusual. I noticed Oz, Jone and Enimo in the far back of the TV room standing in what appears to be a round circle meeting. To the untrained eye, they might have just been standing there. But to my eye, they was having a meeting and this meeting was pretty intense. I immediately had two thoughts. The first, What the fuck is going on over there? [audience laughter] And the second, why wasn't I invited? [audience laughter]
So, I decided to make my way over to this circle to be fake nosy. That's being nosy, but first you have to fake it first, right? So, I slides over and I start moseying around until I get a little close. As I get closer, I say to “Jone, what's going on over here?” He turns around very fast and says, “We trying to figure out what to make you for your last meal today.” And he goes to turn back around and he snaps back real fast and he says, “And I don't know why we thinking about making you anything, because your ass going home tomorrow.” Shockingly, I step back. I look at Oz and Enimo, they begin to chuckle. I turn back and I look at Jone, and Oz say, “Sounds like you hating, bro.” Me and Jone stare at each other for a second, and then we both break out into our own little laugh mixed with a handshake and a bro hug.
They decided to make some of my favorite items that night, which is honey barbecue chicken, baked macaroni and cheese, some yams and coconut rice. Now, Enimo who is from a Caribbean descent, actually Jamaican, made this coconut rice. And this coconut rice was everything. I mean, 10 plus years I've been out here in the world and I have yet to find anybody, any place, any restaurant, who can make coconut rice like Enimo. I mean, it was fire.
So, after we made this food, we all sat down and began to break bread together, share some stories, reminisce of the time that we had spent together. I remember in that moment feeling very appreciative, very grateful, like, “Look at my guys. They done communicated, took their time out, put together this meal for me.” And in that moment, those feelings and no motions, was ripped away once again by that pain in my chest, but this time, it was much more intense. I felt like I had to coach myself to breathe. As we were sitting there having conversations, I was hoping nobody noticed. And then, a count was called, and I alleviated that feeling.
After the count was called, I returned back into my cube and I laid on my bed and I put my hands behind my head with my fingers interlocked like this, and I crossed my legs and I began to look out of the window and zone out. As I zoned out, I noticed that feet shuffling and lockers opening and closing begin to die down. Staring out the window, I began to have these thoughts. And my thoughts was like, “I wonder how many people slept in this bed that I'm sleeping in right now. I wonder how many people slept in this bed who was supposed to be scheduled for release the next day.” And of course, I thought about those that would never be released.
Staring out of the window, I noticed that the sky went from being dark black to a dark gray. And that dark gray turned into a light gray. And those feet shuffling and lockers doors opening and closing, that had died down, they begin to pick back up. Those thoughts were broken by the sound of a telephone ringing. Ring, ring, ring, ring. The receiver was snatched up, but nothing was said on my end. Only thing I could hear was a loud bang when it slammed. Boom. And then, I heard something I've been waiting to hear for a long time. “Gaskin,” which is my last name. My moment had come, and I was about to be released, y'all.
As I began to walk through the little small corridor, who else is there waiting for me? Jone, Oz and Enimo. Soon as I walk through the door, here go Jone, throwing his best combination of air punches, some jabs mixed with some body shots. I found myself blatantly blocking him, but none got in. Oz is standing behind him and he's screaming, “Yeah. Yeah.” And Enimo, who's about 6’4”, 230 plus pounds, casually walked up to me, put his arm around my neck, his big arm, and what I thought was just going to be a humble hug, his arm began to get tighter and tighter and tighter around my neck.
I found myself hitting him with a little jab like, “Come on, bro. Loosen that up some.” [audience laughter] And right there in that moment, I was attacked again by that same underlying feelings and emotions that I was having before. But this time, it was very intense. I felt like somebody was squeezing on my esophagus and my heart at the same time. I had to coach myself to breathe. I felt like I was getting a little dizzy. I don't know if I was bugging out or if Enimo arm was just that tight around my neck, so I hit him again with a little elbow like, “Nah, bro, you got to get up off me.” We said out goodbyes, and some farewells and I began to make my way.
The next steps in that jail was like a blur. I remember going down to outtake, which is the opposite of intake. They gave me $40 and a bus ticket, and I was waiting with about 20 to 40 guys at the facility, waiting for the facility bus to take us to the nearest city where we could catch a Greyhound or a Peter Pan to get down to our city. Mine was happened to be New York City. [audience cheers and applause]
I remember getting off the bus and looking at the people walking around so freely, men Women and children. Some was on cell phone, and that blew my mind, because I was so used to walking in a straight, single, fouled line. I was like, “Wow.” I remember the smell. It was the McDonald's and the Burger King mixed with the pollution in the air. [audience laughter] I was like, “Yeah, I'm almost there.” [audience laughter] I remember the guys talking about what they were going to do when they got home, some of the food that they was going to eat, their loved ones they couldn't wait to see, the things that they were going to do with their girlfriends. But I could think about none of that.
The only thing I could think about was those guys that I left back in the facility, my comrades. I wonder what they were doing at this moment. What was they having for lunch? Were they still working out our regular scheduled workouts? You know that guy Jone that I spoke to you about? Well, he'll utilize any excuse to miss a workout. So, I was pretty concerned about him. And then I thought to myself, what is wrong with me? Why am I having the thoughts that these guys that's being released are having?
It wasn't until I got my first job as a group facilitator when I was facilitating a group full of young men, and I shared this story. And a young man inside that group said, “That's survivor's guilt.” I turned around like “Facts.” [audience laughter] But the fact is, I didn't even know what survivor's guilt was. [audience laughter] Thank God that Google is our friend. So, in that moment, I learned that survivor's guilt is commonly associated with PTSD, post-traumatic stress syndrome, is when an individual or people survived an incident that most people did not survive. It was in that moment I began to understand those attacks that I was having.
When I was giving away my stuff to my comrades, that was cool, but what I really wanted to do was be able to give them their freedom. When they took their time out to make me that meal, I was grateful, but what I really wanted to do was something like what Jone said, “For all of us to be on the outside eating whatever that we wanted to eat.” And in those last final moments, when we were saying our goodbyes, what I really wanted was for them to be able to embark on that journey with me.
I still get those attacks to this day. But instead of disregarding them, I utilize them to fuel the work that I do. When I work with the men and women that's formerly incarcerated, and I help them navigate the barriers to successful reentry, I like to say, “Yes, that's what I do.” When I work with those young men and women that's closely associated to gang and gun violence, helping them change their mindset, which will ultimately help them change their behaviors, I like to say, “Yeah, that's what I'm doing.” Instead of disregarding those feelings, I utilize these feelings to help other survivors. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Larry: [00:22:45] That was David Gaskin. David was born and raised in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. He wants you to know that's the old Bed-Stuy, not the new Bed-Stuy. David recently discovered his interest in storytelling by assisting and encouraging formerly incarcerated people to share their stories. David is a community leader working against gun and gang violence. He's also the lead consultant for Conspiring for Good, which helps organizations, corporations and individuals to imagine, cultivate and co-create safety inside of their communities and workspaces. If you'd like to see a photo of David's community work, you can check out at themoth.org/extras.
The Community Education Program has grown a lot since 1999. Jennifer Birmingham, the Moth’s Managing Director of Programs, tells us, “In 2022, the program initiated a participant to Instructor pipeline. We also held our first drop-in workshops, where alumni and their families and friends come to develop stories and monthly virtual Moth meetups.” In 2023, we'll hold our first Community StorySLAMs, where alumni will share their stories in front of live audiences.
In the 14 years I've been with The Moth, I've worked very closely in and with the Community Engagement Program. And through all of this wonderful growth, what's remained consistent is the spirit, the energy and the love that our participants and our instructors and our partners bring to the process. So, here's to many more years of connecting communities and shedding light on some of our most pressing social issues through the art and craft of true personal storytelling.
Marc: [00:24:44] Larry Rosen is a master instructor at The Moth. After 25 years teaching, directing and practicing theater and comedy performance, Larry discovered the simplicity, power and beauty of true stories. Shortly thereafter, he found The Moth. As they say, timing is everything.
This episode of The Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin Jenness, Sarah Jane Johnson and me, Marc Sollinger. The stories in this episode were directed by Larry Rosen. The rest of The Moth’s leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Catherine Burns, Jenifer Hixson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Klutse, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Lee Ann Gullie, Inga Glodowski and Aldi Kaza. All Moth stories are true as remembered by the storytellers.
For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org. The Moth Podcast is presented by PRX, the Public Radio Exchange, helping make public radio more public at PRX.org.