Ghetto Mothers: A Story of a Mother's Struggle to Raise Her Children and to Raise Herself Up, Up, and Away

By Cheryl K. Bruce-White

This book was written to send a message to the Mothers in the urban areas about the serious issues in regards to Motherhood. The book contains less than 200 pages because I did not want to bore my readers with a lot of unnecessary dialogue.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 7, 2009
• ISBN: 9781465333162

Cheryl K. Bruce-White

Cheryl K. Bruce-White, (Kimmy) has overcome many obstacles in her personal life. Drug addiction was one of her greatest challenges but through God’s grace and mercy, she has been clean for nearly 18 years. Cheryl is strong, confident and very lovable woman and is always willing to fight for the underdog. She is a faithful member of the Emmanuelle Pentecostal Church in Jersey City, where her spiritual father and mentor, Bishop Robert L. Blount is the Pastor. Cheryl received her high school diploma in 2004 and completed a semester in college with a 3.89 G. P. A. Her biggest accomplishment is her successful relationships with her children. Cheryl is devoted to her children, Tanesha L. Bruce-Owens, and Shaymisa R. White and her grandchildren, Ka Necia, Le Shonna, Na Kira, Tyrome, Marvin Jr. and Kamari. Cheryl’s mission in life is to use her story to educate other mothers to be better mothers to their children. She is very passionate about speaking out against child abuse and neglect and domestic violence against women and children.

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Copyright © 2009 by Cheryl K. Bruce-White.

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Contents

ABOUT THE BOOK

Acknowledgement

Special Thank-you

To My Children

Preface

Introduction

Chapter 1

The Beginning

Chapter 2

Teenage Mother/It’s a Girl!

Chapter 3

Married with Children

Chapter4

Too Close and Comfortable

Chapter 5

I’m Motherless Too!

Chapter 6

The Vicious Cycle Continues

Chapter 7

A Cry for Help?

Chapter 8

Learning to Live Clean

Chapter 9

A Time to be Born! A Time to Die

Chapter 10

An Unmanageable Life

Chapter 11

My Life Is My Responsibility

Chapter 12

Going Back Home

Chapter 13

Moving Forward

Chapter 14

Chip off the Block

Chapter 15

She’s Ready to Grow Up!

Chapter 16

Moving On and Moving Out!

Chapter 17

The Fifth Generation, Vicious Cycle Broken

The Do’s and Don’t of Motherhood

Final Words/Epilogue

Ghetto Mothers/In 2008, We Are A Family That Prays Together

I dedicate this book to my children

Tanesha and Shaya. Through God’s love and forgiveness, I have been given a second chance to be a better mother. Today, you are both beautiful women, but in my heart, you will

always be my precious babies. May God

continue to bless you every day.

Love always, Mommy.

ABOUT THE BOOK

This book was written to send a message to the Mothers in the urban areas about the serious issues in regards to Motherhood. The book contains less than 200 pages because I did not want to bore my readers with a lot of unnecessary dialogue.

However, I was completely open and honest about where I came from, the terrible mistakes I made and what God’s grace has allowed me to learn about motherhood. In each chapter there is a brief story about my beginnings, and my past experiences as a mother. It was my intention to keep it short, strong, honest and to the point.

I realize that people are busy living their lives and they do not have a lot of time to go through the many pages of a thick book.

So please keep a open mind as you go through the pages of this book to receive the information. If you do not identify with my experiences that is okay. Perhaps you have a friend or relative who can understand my past struggles and be grateful to know that there is hope. Our children need and deserve the very best that we can give them. They have the God given right to grow up healthy, loved and reasonably happy. Come on my Beautiful Sisters, Let’s do this, together, we can save our children and build better communities. I am praying for you.

Love, peace and Blessings

Cheryl K.

Acknowledgement

If I even attempt to name the many people who have contributed to my growth and the enhancement of my life, well, I guess this dedication will be longer than the chapters in this book.

I would like to give praise and thanks to my God, Jesus Christ, it is through his love, mercy and many blessings; I have been given a second chance in life. Please believe me when I say that I am nothing without them.

I dedicate this book to the women who have touched and helped reshape my life in a very special way. First, my daughters, Tanesha and Shaya—their pain and suffering inspired me to write this book in a therapeutic way. Next, my mother, the late Peggy Lewis-Bruce, and my maternal grandmother, the late Willie Lewis-Harris—the vicious cycle of ghetto mothers had begun with them but has in no way diminished the deep love and respect that I have always felt for them. To Ka Necia and Le Shonna, my teenage granddaughters, who through the grace of God, had broken the vicious cycle of ghetto mothers in this family. To Wendie Santana, a special, dear sister friend, who inspires me daily. To my second mother Dorothy Terry, who tried very hard to make my painful childhood less painful with her love and understanding. To Fay Southerland, who taught me that it was okay to say I love you. To my stepmother, the late Ethel Ann Mumford, who stood by my side when everyone else stood in judgement. Also I would like to thank Michelle Fuller Taylor, who accepted and loved my oldest daughter at a time when it was extremely important to me. To Marcella Rush, my youngest granddaughter’s other grandmother, and my childhood friend, who has taken good care of our grandchild, from day one. And last, but certainly not least, to Rebecca (Sister) Black, one of my dearest friends and daughter’s godmother. Thanks for helping me to get through the pain and lonliness of my first pregnancy.

There are some brothers who hold a special place in my heart too. Bishop Robert L. Blount, Dwight Walker, Officer Michael Francis, and my big brother, Jeffrey Burwell. These men offered me unconditional love and respect; they have truly treated me the way all women deserve to be treated. I will always treasure my spiritual relationships with them. To Professor Hans, my college composition teacher, an extraordinary, brilliant, and very funny man, who emphasized how gifted I was as a writer. His expertise as an English teacher has helped improve my writing skills.

Last but not least, I would like to mention my sons-in-law, Marvin J. Owens Sr. and John Kibari; it is a blessing to have two sons through marriage.

And finally, to my four beautiful youngest grandchildren, Na Kira, Tyrone, Marvin Jr. and Kamari, these four precious little gifts from God add a special new meaning to the title Grandma.

PS

To my sisters, Debra, Vanessa, Velda, and Michele, and to my brothers, Faron, Tony, Lance, Jeff, and the late Curtis Bruce (who I miss so much), I love you, guys, very much. I am blessed to have you in my life. To my cousins, Elaine McDonald, Terry Worth, Donna Mumford, Gary and Mat lean Mumford, Bruce and Sheila Edwards, Frank and Evelyn Gregory, and Rhonda Ann Canary, you guys are so much more to me than cousins—you are my friends. To Mrs. Tish Jackson, thank you for your love and support, especially during the hardest times of my life. And once again, I would love to give a special honor to Mrs. Tanesha L. Bruce-Owens RN, BSN, you are a remarkable young woman and an excellent mother, and you are truly a good example to follow. Through God’s grace, I am a better mother because of the mother you are to your children.

To Letha Singleton and Elijah Davis, the best landlords in the state of New Jersey, I feel really blessed to have you guys in my life. You really are decent people who really go over and beyond for your tenants. God bless you, and thank you so much for taking me on as a tenant and a friend.

Last, but certainly not least, I would like to thank my ex-coworkers from the Jersey City Housing Authority. Roberta Barnes, Can-dance Fayton, Josephine Bramham, Trina Furka, Carol Feldhan, Victoria Guingon, Cynthia Bryant, James Cameron, Harold Shipman, Keisha Tigner, Gloria Darby, Kurt Harris, Georgeann Green, Rose Sorrentino, Belinda Laforte, Patricia Hairston, April Womack, Patricia Madison, Mary Anderson, Kenneth Pinnock, and Maynard Banks. These wonderful people welcomed me with open arms when I began working at the housing authority four years ago. Their kindness and support allowed me to feel like an important part of the team. Thank you so much; I truly love and respect you all.

PPS

I do not want to leave anyone out who made it possible for me to enjoy working at the housing authority. So I would also like to thank Almirrah Tiller, Shenel Mc Kinney, Generosa Austero, Peter Gomes and Joyce Worthington. You guys were very kind and supportive, and I appreciate each and every one of you. Much love, blessings, and respect.

Special Thank-you

To Bishop Robert L. Blount and First Lady Rosa Blount

Dear Bishop,

In 1990, the end of the year, you decided to take a chance on me. Evidently, you saw something in me that no one else could see, not even my own parents. When you decided to help me, you were determined to see it through. That had to be hard because I remembered how difficult and resistant I was in the beginning. Bishop, you are definitely a man of God, a man who goes over and beyond the call of duty to help people. I am not ashamed to say that I was probably one of your biggest challenges, yet through God’s mercy and your patience today, I am a decent, honest, and spiritual woman. God used you to save me, my children, and my grandchildren. Please believe me when I say that there aren’t enough words I can use to express how much I love and honor you, how much my children love you. Mrs. Blount is a remarkable and selfless woman because she never had a problem with sharing her husband with others. Thank you, Lady Blount, for allowing your wonderful husband to be there for my family and me. May God continue to bless you and your family, a family that my children and I feel honored to be a part of.

To My Children

Dearest Tanesha and Shaya,

I know I have apologized to you over and over again in regard to your childhood. I was damaged, ignorant, and selfish; and as a result, you both had to endure so much pain. I often ask God to please forgive me for being such a failure as a mother. I neglected you both during the times when you needed me the most—your childhood. There is no excuse for what I put you through.

You beautiful ladies have inspired me, and that is why I have written this book. I want to openly and publicly ask for your forgiveness.

Tanesha, you are my hero, role model, and best friend. On my forty-ninth birthday, those beautiful words you wrote, about how we balance each other, will stay with me forever. My darling daughter, it is you who balance me. You are so together, and even though I never take credit for the phenomenal woman that you are, I do give you the credit for the women that Shaya and I are each day. You are a special, humble, and loving person and a great mother. You are an example to us both. I am so proud of you.

Shaya, I know that I am hard on you, and there are times when the wrong words come out. I apologize for that. However, I know you have potential; you are beautiful and smart, and God has blessed you with three children. I know in my heart that you can be a better mother to your children than I ever was to you and your sister. I see some of me in you; that is why I feel compelled to save you. I am proud of you too. You have made positive changes in your life; please keep up the good work.

I would also like to thank you both for giving me a second chance to be a better mother. I thank God every day for your beautiful children, my grandchildren. Three lovely granddaughters and three very handsome little grandsons,three of the most important men in my life.

Tanesha and Shaya, God and Jesus will always come first. Please know that I promise to never ever hurt, neglect, or disappoint you again. You will be able to depend on me for love, protection, and emotional and financial support. When it comes to daughters, I am truly blessed with two of the best.

Love, happiness, and blessings,

Mommy

Preface

What is the definition of the word ghetto? In Webster’s Dictionary, it states that the word ghetto means a slum section of an American city occupied predominately by members of a minority group who live there because of social and economic pressure. In other words, the inner city area where poor black folks live.

Today, in the year 2005, we use this word to refer to a certain lifestyle. The way we talk, dress, and unfortunately, the way we raise our children. We have lowered our standards by adapting to the negative influences of the hip-hop industry through music and videos. Then we justify this way of life by claiming it as a part of the black culture. It is time to come away from this slave mentality and to take responsibility for our foolish behavior.

First, we need to acknowledge that we are acting like fools and change our way of thinking. We start by improving ourselves individually, opening our minds to new ideas and ways to become better mothers. Our ignorance is killing our children. Statistics show that there is a very high percentage of African-American children that lack self-control, self-esteem, and self-respect, with little or any desire to succeed in life.

We must break the vicious cycle of abuse and neglect by doing whatever it takes to save our children. I am angry because I was a ghetto mother who raised ghetto mothers. Today, my grandchildren do not have to suffer because we have the information to raise them with the love, guidance, and protection that all children deserve.

Brothers, please do not be offended. I know fathers are important too. This book is for my sisters because the most important teacher in any child’s life is the mother. She will be the first one to teach the child the lessons of life, lessons that will hopefully shape and mold them into positive, responsible members of society.

So I am on a mission to do my part by sharing all of my dirty laundry in regard to this issue, and I pray that my story will help to prevent other children from becoming victims of this disastrous and vicious cycle.

Introduction

As long as there is breath in my body, I will continue to stay on you about being a good mother to your children! I scream these words at my daughter on a regular bases. After many years of pain and ignorance, I realize the importance of Motherhood. I am a fifty-one year old mother of two adult daughters and six grandchildren. I feel compelled to write a book on this subject. I will honestly share all of my experiences as a mother, including all of the shame, pain and suffering that I have caused my own children.

Hopefully through God’s grace and mercy, this book will reach other women by raising their awareness on this issue. Then we can break the vicious cycle of Ghetto Mothers raising Ghetto Mothers.

Chapter 1

The Beginning

On a very cold afternoon, at 2:44 p.m., November 15, 1957, a baby girl was born. This was her mother’s fourth child and her father’s first. That baby girl was me. By the time I was eight years old, there were two new additions to our little family. My parents, older brother, two sisters, and I shared a five-bedroom apartment in a housing complex.

Growing up in the projects during the sixties and the seventies was pretty cool. It was safe for the kids to play outdoors because the parents did not have to worry about their children being exposed to drugs, gun violence, or sexual predators. The majority of families living here consisted of two-parent households. The adults in our community looked out for one another. They developed a bond that enabled them to discipline their neighbors’ children, adhering to the old saying, It takes a village to raise a child.

Nevertheless I grew up in a very dysfunctional household. My parents physically, verbally, emotionally, and mentally abused me. First of all, my mom was very unhappy with my appearance. In her opinion, I was a homely female version of my father with very short hair. However, she was very pleased with my light-skinned complexion. My two youngest sisters were pretty, with hair long enough to be hot-combed into styles that made Mom proud. My mother had no problem telling me on a regular basis how ugly I was.

My father was mean, strict, and very controlling. He was also disappointed with the way I looked. The way he treated me was ten times worse than the abuse I had to endure from my mother. He made my life miserable, and I hated him with a passion. Incidentally, most people disliked my father because he was very aggressive and hot-tempered.

The word love was never mentioned in our house. There were no hugs or any display of affection. On the other hand, there was plenty of cursing and degrading remarks being thrown at us, especially at me. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to my parents, I became destined to grow up needy, emotionally damaged, insecure, and with no self worth.

Now at this point in my childhood, I was totally convinced that I was the ugliest child living in this project. I began to wear layers of makeup at the age of twelve. During that era, afro was the hairstyle, so I begged my mom to buy me the biggest afro wig in the store. I became determined to change my looks for the better.